throat.
Tanner broke into a run, pulling her with him. If their original path took them farther from civilization, so did this one, because they were headed in roughly the same direction. Her hopes of making it out before dark died a quick and sure death.
They crested a ridge and made a diagonal path down the other side. Without slowing, they climbed another slope, then descended, adjusting direction again. The sun sank lower and the shadows lengthened.
Tanner stopped and pulled her down behind a fallen tree. “I think we lost him again.”
She sucked in several gulps of air. “I hope you’re right.”
Their pursuer had firepower, but she and Tanner had agility and stamina. At least Tanner did. Whatever stamina she had was fading fast.
She looked over his shoulder, where the sun had dipped behind the trees sometime ago. Overhead, the sky had darkened to gray blue. Soon it would turn to navy, then black.
He followed her gaze. “We shouldn’t wander around in the dark. There are thousands of acres of forest out here.”
Her chest tightened. Spending the night alone in the woods with a strange man couldn’t be smart, no matter how nice he seemed. Besides, now that the sun was going down, the temperature was dropping, and she was already cold. But Tanner was right.
He pulled a flattened granola bar from his pocket. “Dinner. I’ll share it with you.” He removed it from the wrapper, and when he’d split it, he gave her the larger piece.
Her stomach rumbled. “I’m sure it’ll be the best granola bar I’ve ever eaten.” She hesitated. Did she actually remember eating a granola bar? Could she recall any sensory experiences? No, she couldn’t. She heaved a sigh. How would she ever function as an independent adult if she couldn’t call up something as simple as having a snack?
She shook off the concerns. Only a few hours had passed since she’d hit her head. She needed to give it time. She broke off a small piece of the bar and put it in her mouth, savoring it before swallowing. If she spread it out, maybe it would fill her up.
A few seconds later, Tanner brushed his empty hands together. His portion was gone in two bites. She shouldn’t have accepted the larger half.
“Have some of this.”
“I’m fine.” He patted his stomach. “That totally hit the spot.”
“You’re lying.” She split what she had left and held out her hand. “Take it.”
“You need to keep up your strength.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Rest while I try to find a semiprotected place to spend the night.”
After watching him walk away, she took another bite. Even breaking it into small pieces, the bar went too fast and came nowhere near filling the empty hole in her stomach. She’d eaten almost twice what Tanner had. He must be starving.
Gratitude welled up inside her, thankfulness toward Tanner and whatever force had sent him to her. The chance of anyone finding her before her attempted killer was slim to none. The odds of someone like Tanner finding her were closer to the “none” side. She was really lucky.
Not lucky, blessed.
Where had that thought come from? She apparently had some kind of religious background. She searched her mind, trying to pull out some snatch of memory.
Nothing. If the index cards were there, they were all blank.
She rubbed her arms through the damp fabric of the jacket. The temperature seemed to be dropping by the minute. What she wouldn’t give for a set of dry clothes.
Leaving her arms crossed in front of her, she rested her head against an upward-jutting branch and closed her eyes. Now that the immediate danger was over, fatigue was setting in. She could use a nap almost as much as a change of clothes.
The rhythmic crunch of footsteps in dried leaves brought her fully alert. Tanner was twenty feet in front of her, closing the distance. Relief flitted across his features. “You looked like you’d fallen asleep.”
She matched his soft tone. “Almost. I only needed another couple of minutes. Along with a warm blanket.”
“I wish I could help with the blanket. But you probably shouldn’t sleep. I’m no doctor, but I know when someone has a head injury, you’re supposed to keep them awake.”
She frowned. “For how long?”
“Since I don’t know, we’ll go with ‘as long as possible.’”
“Great.”
“The good news is, I think I know how to keep us somewhat warm for the night.”
He held out a hand, and she let him pull her to her feet. After leading her a short distance away, he pointed. The ground sloped upward on each side, with a trough between. A good-size tree had fallen and lay across it at a sharp angle.
“We can burrow in under that dead hemlock. There’s already a thick bed of leaves. Since it hasn’t rained, it’s nice and dry. I’ll gather branches to block us in the rest of the way and keep out any unwanted guests.”
She almost asked him what he meant by “unwanted guests,” then decided she’d rather not know.
“We’ve also got water. Listen.”
She lifted her chin. Behind the rustle of leaves and buzz of insects, a trickle reached her from somewhere in the distance.
When they arrived at the little creek, she dropped to her knees. The water was cold and tasted so good. Too many hours had passed since she’d finished the bottle Tanner had given her.
After drinking their fill, they headed back. She helped him gather limbs, then watched as he positioned them, leaving a single opening protected by one of the hemlock’s branches. He completed the last of the work by moonlight. When he finished, her teeth were chattering.
“Let’s get you out of this night air.”
She dropped to her hands and knees, then crawled downhill to the trough. It was narrow, just wide enough for a single body. But it was plenty long enough to allow a respectable distance between them.
After choosing the space to the left, she stretched out on her back and nestled into the leaves. Moonlight shone through the branches overhead in tiny geometric shapes. It wasn’t any warmer inside than outside, but getting out of the nighttime breeze helped. Even the hard ground wasn’t that uncomfortable. Knowing Tanner, he’d probably added some extra cushion. But it was still going to be a long damp night. She crossed her arms over her torso, trying to ward off the chill.
As Tanner maneuvered his body into the shelter, alarms went off. She struggled to silence them. If any man deserved trust, Tanner did. But trust didn’t come easily in her current state. Maybe it didn’t come easily in her normal state, either.
“Are you warm enough?” His voice sounded close.
“Better.”
Still in a crawling position, he gathered some smaller hemlock branches he’d cut previously and reached over her head to lay them across her torso.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. If there’s anything else I can do, let me know.”
“Other than the blanket.”
“Other than the blanket.” His tone held a smile. Leaves crinkled and dried twigs cracked as he positioned himself a few feet away. There was nothing solid between them, but he was giving her space. A true gentleman.
She smiled into the darkness. “You did good today. What are you anyway? Ex-military? Survivalist? Former Boy Scout?”
He laughed. “None of the above. Why?”
“The way you’ve handled everything. Evading the bad guy. Getting