Page 14 of Colton in the Wild
“Kindling, then,” he said almost desperately. And before she could question that, he turned on his heel and strode back outside. He knew perfectly well there was kindling and even some fire starters also there in the rack beside the woodstove, but he had to get away.
He tried to remember the last time they’d been alone together for any length of time. Usually there was family around, his or hers, or clients. And what time they did spend alone was usually filled with prep work, planning, or her doing her flight check while he got things loaded up. But now…
He stood outside on the hill, for one of the few times in his life too distracted to fully soak in the beauty all around him. Too distracted to savor the crisp, clean air, to gaze out at the expanse of the lake below, where the plane she had brilliantly brought down safely was just out of sight behind the edge of the stand of trees to the north.
He tried to tell himself he was so focused on her because she’d just saved them both with her skill. But he knew better. He was distracted because, when she was around, he seemed to lose control of his thoughts and they rocketed off in directions he should never be thinking. He was distracted because he knew it was futile, that she would probably forever see him as that kid she’d had to tutor in high school. He was distracted because she seemed only to dislike him now. Ironic, in a way, that she constantly ragged on him about flirting with clients when the only reason he did it was that the pull to do it with her was so strong.
And then the main source of that distraction came out of the tent cabin behind him.
“Adrenaline crash?” she asked as she halted beside him.
Startled, he looked at her. “What?”
“After an incident like this, I know the drained feeling that happens once the initial shock fades. You get kind of numb. And tired.”
“Oh. Yeah,” he said, gladly agreeing with her to avoid the real reason he was so…flustered.
Maybe that really was part of what was wrong with him. Maybe it was the letdown after a supremely stressful moment. Nothing like thinking you’re going to die in a plane crash to get that adrenal gland going strong. Maybe it wasn’t solely the idea of spending the night with her that had him so revved up and scattered at the same time.
Sure, Colton, keep telling yourself that.
“So…who’s fixing dinner?” the ever-practical Hetty asked.
And now she’d disconcerted him again. “I… I sort of figured we’d just eat one of the prepacks,” he said, referring to the bagged-and-sealed main courses with the long shelf life always kept in stock up here. “I saw there’s some of that chili you like.”
She was the one who looked surprised now. What, that he’d remembered she liked that particular version of the meals? Why would something that basic surprise her?
How would you feel if you knew I remember that you hate Brussels sprouts, that your favorite song is Hendrix’s classic “All Along the Watchtower,”and that your favorite color is that almost lime green of your jacket that makes your eyes practically glow? Or that you want to see the Eiffel Tower someday, after the Statue of Liberty, because you like the French connection between them?
His list of things he knew about her could go on and on. Not because she’d ever told him all these things, but because whenever he was around her he was glued to every word, no matter who she was actually saying them to. Which was almost always someone else, since she rarely spoke to him directly other than on work-related things.
“—fine with me,” she was saying, making him tune back in. “I like it warm, though, so I’ll get the fire going.”
She turned to head back but paused for a moment, looking intently up the hill.
“What?” he asked.
Hetty shook her head. “Nothing. I saw something move up there, or thought I did. But I don’t see anything now.”
“Maybe it was our moose, coming for a visit,” he joked, still trying to shake off the odd feelings he always seemed to get when he was alone with her. “I’ll go grab a couple of those meals,” he said, glad of the reason to take a hike, in all senses of the saying. He also needed to grab the Kimber out of the storage shed where he’d set it down to wrestle with the bulky stuff. Nobody in their right mind would be holed up this far into the Alaskan backcountry without a weapon at hand to convince some of the local wildlife that they would taste horrible.
They each turned to follow their stated intentions. But before he’d taken two steps, Spence saw a chunk of bark fly off the tree they were next to, for no apparent reason. A moment later, he heard a loud but distant crack of sound. Hetty looked puzzled, but Spence knew. He knew, and he dived for her, taking her down to the ground in a fierce tackle. She tried to pull away, but he held her fast. He played it back in his head in an instant; the lesser sound of the impact with the tree and the loud report. He knew he was right.
“What—”
“That was a shot.”
“There are always hunters around—”
“It was aimed at us.”
Chapter 9
He was crazy. She’d heard the sound but assumed it had been a tree branch breaking, as often happened out here.
He was imagining things. That had to be it.
Except, Spence was far from crazy. He didn’t go around imagining things. And when it came to almost anything here in the backcountry, at least on the ground, he had more experience than she’d ever have. And he’d certainly had more experience with firearms.
