Page 50 of Lost With You
She absorbed those words, soaking them in, wondering whether he meant what she thought he meant, too weary and addled and exhausted to think any further.
The ranger bandaged her knees and then pushed up to his feet. “Can you two manage a last mile? There’s a logging road not far away. I parked my Jeep there.”
“I can walk a dozen miles if there’s coffee at the end.” She met Dylan’s gaze. “But he’s got a broken rib.”
“Cracked,” Dylan countered with a wince. “Maybe. I sure as hell can walk, if the future promises a burger.”
“To the hospital first.” The ranger pulled his walkie-talkie out of his belt. “Burgers and coffee later.”
She expected the mile walk to the Jeep would be the shortest distance they crossed that day, but the combined effect of three weeks in the woods and the accident took its toll. The ranger set the pace, but Dylan kept by her side, shoring her up when she couldn’t raise her foot high enough to avoid stumbling over a root or a rock. Her lungs ached. She might have inhaled some river water while tumbling through the current. Every scratch on her skin came alive, all at once. She’d never been so happy to see the sun gleam off the hood of the ranger’s Jeep.
Dylan eased himself into the front seat, where there was more legroom. She all but collapsed in the back seat, closing her eyes at the warmth and the comfort. Peter chattered as he eased the vehicle around the ruts of the logging road. She felt the change under the tires when the Jeep left the logging road and found smooth paving. She opened her eyes long enough to see the steel rails of a bridge flying by. Below was the slate-blue water of a river.
“Look north,” Peter said as the vista opened. “You can see the border and the glint of the Saint Lawrence River from here.”
She rolled her head against the back of the seat and saw the river in the distance. Leaning forward, she gripped the ball of Dylan’s shoulder. “You did it, Dylan.”
“Wedid it,” he countered. He couldn’t twist around without hurting his side, but she saw a smile lift one edge of his lips. “It would have made a better picture if you and I had paddled right up to the Canadian shore. But this works. It’s still a victory.”
The ranger drove them into a small border town, through placid streets, and to an unobtrusive hospital of only a few floors. Amid all of Peter’s low chatter, he must have mentioned the name of the town, but it flew out of her head. Time was starting to splinter. Her stomach felt hollow, nauseated, the granola bar that the ranger had given her curdling. In the emergency room, they said goodbye to their rescuer, who promised to go back and collect what he’d recovered of their gear and return it to the hotel for them later. A nurse appeared before her. Dylan was led to a separate examination room.
The nurse washed the angry pink scratches on her arms and legs and applied new dressings on her knees. After a few glasses of an electrolyte-loaded energy drink, some analgesic pills, and an hour to rest, she was directed to the room where Dylan was waiting to leave. He sat on the edge of a cot, wearing a clean T-shirt marked with the hospital logo, looking tanned and too full of life for the bright white walls and antiseptic nature of his surroundings.
Another man loomed in the room, and he definitely wasn’t a doctor.
“Here she is,” Dylan said as she stepped in. “Just the woman I was talking about.”
The strikingly handsome, dark-haired stranger by Dylan’s side turned to her with bald curiosity. He had the shoulders of a weight lifter, the waistline of a swimmer, and the face of a Hollywood actor.
With athletic grace, he leaned in to shake her hand. “So you’re Casey Michaels.” His grip was firm, his dark blue eyes probing. “From what Dylan tells me, I missed a hell of an adventure.”
Her mind still wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Had this guy been invited on the expedition? He didn’t look like any of Dylan’s cousins or brothers she’d met at the launch site all those weeks ago.
“Meet Garrick Kane.” Dylan frowned at their still-clasped hands. “The New Yorker I spoke about. You took his place on the expedition.”
“Oh, yes. Dylan spoke of you warmly.” She noticed an arm cast peeking out from under his suit jacket. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Garrick.”
“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.” He flashed a blinding Hollywood grin. “Considering the state you two are in right now, it looks like I dodged disaster by breaking my arm before the launch.”
She turned to Dylan, reminded of his injury. She glanced to his chest, where she could see the padding of bandages beneath the slim fit of his T-shirt.
She sucked in a breath. “Broken ribs?”
“The slightest of fractures.” He crossed his arms, tapping thumbs on his biceps. “I’ve been hit worse by this guy in rugby practice.”
The men shared the rumbling laughter of common experience. The noise jogged another memory. Garrick was one of the college friends who’d urged Dylan to make the journey as a way to honor Pops. She should interview this guy. He could reveal to her a whole side of Dylan she didn’t yet know.
She wanted to know everything.
“I know you guys love being here in the hospital,” Garrick said with a sudden clap. “But the MacCabe clan drove down from Canada, where they went into a panic when you two didn’t show up at the terminus of this adventure. They’re impatient for the arrival of the conquering heroes.”
“Hero,” she corrected as Garrick swept by her to exit the room. “I just went along for the ride.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Casey.” Dylan pushed away from the bed with care. “But my family knows better than anyone else what you had to put up with for three weeks.”
“That’s definitely heroic,” Garrick said from the hallway, flicking his arm to look at his watch. “Let’s talk in the car. After dropping you off at the hotel, I have to catch a plane.”
“No way.” Dylan followed her out of the room. “You just got here. Anne will be so disappointed.”
