Page 206 of Her Reluctant Hero
“Josie, you were so brave out there.” Peyton’s soothing voice, already low and now roughened by smoke, reached out to calm his nerves as well. He hadn’t realized how tense he was until he started to relax. “You never even slowed down. And you found these caves— probably saved all our lives.”
Josie cried out and jerked as Gabe peeled one sock off. He saw Peyton take her white- knuckled hands in hers, tuck her head against her shoulder as skin came with the sock. He also noticed Peyton didn’t look at the injury illuminated by his headlamp.
“Have you been a counselor here for long?”
The counselor squeezed her eyes shut and tensed her muscles beneath his hands as the pain constricted her body. “Uh! Yeah. Twenty-seven years. Used to come here when I was a girl. I can’t believe—oh! I can’t believe it’s gone.”
Gabe quit listening to the conversation, only grateful Peyton had distracted her. How had the woman walked on these feet? The soles were literally one big blister. Fear must have driven her. Fear and bravery.
He treated her the best he could with the supplies on hand, wrapped her feet in gauze and a clean pair of his own socks and ordered Peyton to pass around the water again. He sat back against the cave wall and toyed with the switch of the flashlight.
While he watched her move, he waited for resentment to come. He was stuck here with a rookie, a reporter, no less. But he couldn’t blame the situation on her. No, she’d held up just fine on the run up the mountain. Hell, it was almost like having a partner.
He did not work well in pairs.
“Come here,” he said when she moved back to the corner she’d claimed for herself.
She considered him warily. “Why?”
So she didn’t trust him anymore than he trusted her. He wondered why. She’d trusted him well enough to save her life.
“You’re limping. I want to look at your feet.”
“They aren’t burned.”
And she had some defensive issues of her own. Was it him she wasn’t willing to admit weakness to, or herself?
“Blistered, though, aren’t they?”
She stammered, glanced away. “A—yeah.”
“First fire, new boots?”
“I have on two pair of socks,” she said.
Yeah, definitely some defensive issues there. He leaned forward and crooked his finger. “Let’s look at those feet.”
“They just…I...”
Her discomfort amused him. He wasn’t asking her to strip, for crying out loud. Why was she so skittish? “Sit and take ’em off.”
She did, grumbling more now than on the trail. Delayed reactions were fine with him. She’d done what she’d been told, and had done a fair job of it. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t dredge up any resentment.
She thrust her feet toward him and immediately he saw the outer sock, blackened on the top from soot, had been worn through.
“Peel.”
“I can take care of my own feet.”
He couldn’t tell if she was blushing under all the soot, but her jerky movements told him she was embarrassed as she stripped off the socks. He motioned for her to place them in his lap for inspection, which she did with more force than necessary, near a place a man wanted as little force as possible.
He picked up one foot, was amused by the hot-pink toenail polish, amazed by the softness of the skin. Calluses hardened a few places, the rest was city-girl soft. He allowed himself a brief picture of what she might be like on her own turf. Would she wear girly dresses? High heels? Fix up her hair? Hard to tell what she’d be like dressed up, the way she looked now, in her baggy fire gear and covered with ash. But he’d imagine she wouldn’t be too bad.
Of course, sandals wouldn’t be very flattering. He could see some blisters forming, traced a testing finger over the high arch of her foot. She jerked and shouted, the sound startling the girls as it echoed off the cave walls. He grinned.
“Ticklish?”
She scowled and tried to pull her foot away, but he tightened his grip on her heel. “I have some cream in my pack.”
