Page 42 of Love in the Wild

“By who? The police?”

Eden bit her lip. “By ... You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Honey, please. I have to know. What happened? Who rescued you?”

She took a deep breath. “By a man who lives in the jungle, like a hermit.”

“A hermit?” her mother echoed, unconvinced.

“Yeah. He’s a conservationist. He stays away from the villages, preferring to be close to the animals. He saved me and helped me get to a village.” She had to admit, describing him this way sounded almost plausible.

“I need to find your father. He’ll want to hear this.”

“Just tell him that I’m okay. I’ll call you back as soon as I know when they’ll let me leave for home.”

“But, honey—”

“Please, Mom. I need to shower and get some food. I’ve been through a lot.”

“Okay. But call me tomorrow, no matter what,” her mother ordered.

“Fine. I will.” Eden sighed. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too.”

Eden hung up and tossed the phone on the bed, then dragged herself back to her feet and into the shower.

Drenching herself in the hot spray, all she could think about was the cold water from the waterfall and how she missed standing in the rippling pool as Thorne held her in his arms. She missed him so much already. She wiped away tears as she chastised herself for being so foolish as to fall for Thorne in just a few days. Despite Bwanbale’s romantic take, this wasn’t some romance novel, and she wasn’t some barely out of high school girl who let her hormones control her. Yet everything that had to do with Thorne made her emotional.

Focusing on the shower took some effort, but Eden cleaned herself off, wincing each time she discovered a new cut or scrape. She hadn’t been aware of her injuries while in the jungle, but she’d apparently gotten quite bruised and busted up. Now her body seemed fully depleted of adrenaline, and her legs shook as she tried to use the cheap plastic razor in the shower kit that had been left in the bathroom.

By the time she was done, she had only enough energy to braid her hair, crawl into the clothes someone had left on her bed, and fall asleep.

Her sleep was dreamless and dark. When she finally awoke a short while later, a note had been slipped under her door stating that Cara’s boss wanted to speak to her. She checked the digital clock and groaned. She had half an hour. Not enough time to go back to sleep, but she could get another phone call out of the way. She sat up and dialed her editor atNational Parkmagazine.

“Paul Lester speaking,” her boss answered.

“Hey, Paul. It’s me, Eden.”

“Eden! Hey, how’s the gorilla piece coming?”

Eden drew in a breath. “You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you.” She reached for her bag and pulled out Thorne’s ring. “But first, I need a huge favor.”

* * *

Thorne racedalong the thick branches of the hagenia trees and dropped to the ground with barely a sound. Before him lay the white tomb that held the bones of his parents. The airplane that had once carried him in the sky.

All night and much of the day he had debated coming back here. But something compelled him to return. Perhaps it was how much he missed Eden, or how much he longed for the company of another human. But this quiet tomb was all he could manage. Whatever it was that drove him, he walked slowly toward the plane, his heart fracturing inside his chest.

The dark cabin was unchanged from his visit a few days ago. The two skeletons sat in their chairs. These silent watchers filled him with a bittersweet longing to remember more about them.

Amelia and Jacob.The names were now known to him, carved into his heart forever, and yet they were strangers. He knelt first by the bones of his mother and bowed his head. Then he moved to kneel before his father.

“I wish to honor you, as I have done my best to honor Keza. But I am full of fear. What if I cannot live in Eden’s world?” He spoke his questions knowing they would not answer him, but it felt good to at least voice his worries aloud. He’d been debating whether to stay in the jungle or to try to embrace Eden’s world so he could be with her.

He gazed upon the bones of his parents. They still felt like gods to him, silently resting, their lives and memories out of his reach, yet their presence was soothing in a way he couldn’t fully explain.

Thorne lowered his head, bowing in respect as he listened to the distant jungle symphony outside. The parrots in the trees, the throaty calls of leopards, the distant trumpet of Tembo and his herd. All the sounds seemed in that infinite moment to blend together to form one word.

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