Page 34 of Swept for Forever
He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
I scrambled for an excuse. “Locals don’t always like strangers using undesignated paths.”
Dom crossed his arms. “That guy just now told you that?”
Perfect opening. “Not directly, but kind of.” I reached for his hand. “Come on, please. Help me up.”
Dom muttered something under his breath but hoisted me up without argument, steadying me as I wobbled. He kept his grip firm as he guided me back to the shelter of the trees.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah, thanks.” My pulse was still thrumming. “So, what’s the deal now?”
“My friend Logan is coming.”
I nodded, but my attention drifted back to the bend.
Lulu wasn’t growling anymore, but she was still watching.
“How are you feeling?” Dom asked, his palm brushing lightly over my forehead.
“Just weak,” I admitted.
His brow furrowed. “Fever’s still there. Don’t move too much yet.”
“So where are we now?” I asked.
“The map says Timber Loop. It’s still part of Buffaloberry Hill.”
A truck rumbled in the distance. Dom stepped away tocheck, then returned and eased me upright, keeping a hand on me like he wasn’t quite convinced I’d stay that way.
“Hey there!” A deep, friendly voice called out.
I looked up. And well, either Buffaloberry Hill had a secret breeding program for handsome men, or I’d seriously underestimated small-town genetics.
The man who introduced himself as Logan Pierce might just give Dom a run for his money. But where Dom carried edge, Logan had “rancher” stamped from hat to boots. The kind of man who likely knew every name in town and helped out without thinking twice.
“Gimme that,” Logan said, hauling Dom’s pack. “You guys jump in.”
Dom guided me into the truck while Logan led Lulu to the back.
“Just take us to the Raven Bluff trailhead. My truck’s there,” Dom told him. “I’ll get her to the hospital from there.”
Logan nodded, already shifting into gear. “You sure? Anything else I can do?”
“Nothing. I’ll call if I need you,” Dom said, his voice already half-distracted as he checked on me.
As the tires bumped over a rut, Logan added, “How you ended up in Timber Loop, I’ll never know.”
Dom gave a noncommittal shrug.
“Been a long time since I’ve driven through there,” Logan went on. “It’s a patch of Buffaloberry Hill that people forget exists.”
“Used to be logging there or something?” I asked.
“You’re not wrong. It got the name back in the ’40s. Trucks would circle through and load pine and fir bound for the rail spur.”
“What’s there now?”
