Page 6 of Goddess of Storms

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Now off with you two. If you hike most of the night, you will be a half a day ahead of us.”

With a little wave, they head off into the dark and I retake my place on the log. Ears open for any more visitors or Harper calling for me again.

Harper

“Harper,” I hear my name being whispered as I stretch and yawn. Blinking hard, my eyes land on Stone a little too close to my face.

“Whoa, personal space. Heard of it?” I joke.

Stone smirks, “I’m glad you aren’t a slugger. It’s your turn for watch, are you ready?”

“A slugger?” I raise my eyebrow to him.

“Yes, I didn’t know if you would take a swing at me for being in the tent or for waking you.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.” I wink. “I have to pull my boots on and maybe a sweater, there is a chill to the air.”

“How can you know that?” he asks with amazement.

“It’s what I do. Now, get out. This tent isn’t that big.”

He exits and replaces the little flap, but doesn’t zip it closed.

Wiggling out of the warmth of my sleeping bag, I throw it to the side. I pull on my boots and grab my bag and search for the sweater I packed in the bottom. My fingers grasp the soft fabric and with a little tug, it is free from the contents of my bag.

Crawling through the flap of the tent, I spot Stone perched on a log near the fire, his eyes mesmerized as the flame dances in the small breeze. He has a tight grip, knuckles white, on the hammer he used earlier on the tent stakes.

“You really fancy that hammer, huh?” I tease.

My voice interrupts his thoughts, “What?”

“Are you attached to that hammer?” I say.

“Oh, this?” he asks as he raises it. “It was the only thing my father ever gave me.”

“Well, it’s a nice hammer,” I shrug.

Stone’s lips tips into a smile, “That it is. I am going to hit the hay. Only a couple hours until sunrise, we should start our hike then.”

“Sounds like a plan, now go get your beauty rest, Sleeping Beauty,” I joke as I pull on my sweater and take a spot close to the fire.

Stone stands and heads toward his tent behind him, hammer in hand.

“I wasn’t going to steal it,” I call after him.

Turning as he reaches his tent, he gives me a little salute with his hammer and then heads in.

He must have a special relationship with that hammer.

I settle in for the hours until daybreak, the crackle of the fire is relaxing, and I’m wishing I would have brought a book with me. I then remember I tucked a notebook and pens in my bag. Ducking in my tent, I grab them both and return to the log and doodle for a while.

My cell vibrates in my pocket. Surprised, I retrieve it, I sigh when I notice the name on the screen.I told him to lose my number, why is he texting me, and at 5 am?

Me: Why are you texting me at 5 am? Are you drunk again?

Nile: No, I miss you. Honestly, I didn’t think you would answer.

Me: I wouldn’t have but I’m bored and on watch. So I wanted to see why you were messaging.

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