regret flashed in his eyes, along with the deep pain she’d caused.
Her heart made a slow, guilty roll through her chest. She’d never meant to hurt Cade. Never. She’d just been so racked with grief herself that she hadn’t thought her actions through.
“Cade,” she pleaded. She reached out to touch him. “I-”
He jerked back, stopping her cold.
Her throat thick, she dropped her hand to her side. “I’m sorry. I wish…I wish we’d talked like this before.”
But they’d fallen for each other too fast. They hadn’t given their relationship time, hadn’t talked about who they were or what they wanted. Maybe she’d been too young even to know.
Instead, they’d communicated with their bodies and hearts.
“We both saw what we wanted to,” he said, his voice quiet. “An illusion.”
Dread chugged through her belly. “And what was it you wanted to see?” she whispered.
“A woman who understood me. One who loved me enough to wait.”
The woman she could never be.
His jaw rigid, he strode away.
Chapter 11
He’d done it again.
His jaw clenched, his gut churning, Cade strode through the trees up the mountain. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he control himself around Jordan? He should forget their damn marriage and keep it locked in the past. Instead, he kept trying to get closer, probe deeper, to figure out why she’d left.
As if he didn’t already know.
Pinecones crunched under his boots. Low branches scratched his face, and he shoved them aside with a scowl. He knew the truth, all right, but he couldn’t shake off the sensation that there was something he still couldn’t see, something she had kept hidden. Some detail that would help it make sense.
Right. Talk about fantasies. Disgusted, he swatted away another branch. He was pathetic around that woman, like some crazy lemming blinding himself to reality to hurl himself off a cliff.
It was those eyes that undid him. Those hypnotic eyes of hers pulled at him, sucking him under, making him want to ignore the truth. Convincing him she was the woman he’d once believed.
He hissed out his breath and glanced back. Her face flushed, Jordan struggled through the dense brush behind him. Devil’s club arched close to her head, its flat leaves trembling as she pushed past.
And as he watched her climb, his pulse still thundering in his ears, he felt his resentment slip. No matter what she’d done in the past, he had to hand it to her now. He’d never seen anyone try so hard.
She wasn’t in condition for this trek, wasn’t even equipped with good boots. She had blisters on her feet, scrapes on her legs, and she could barely stand on that ankle. And even from this distance he could see her exhaustion.
Yet she hadn’t complained even once. Throughout this ordeal she had pulled her weight, determined to keep herself going. She even looked out for the dog.
And it was hard to hold on to his bitterness when she was so damned nice. It would be easier if she whined or complained, even cried. But instead, she was a great companion. She always had been. Easygoing, good-humored, sexy as hell.
The kind of woman he wanted to come home to for the rest of his life.
He shoved that thought away, unwilling to entertain that dangerous yearning. Because no matter how much he wished things were different, he couldn’t alter the past.
Panting noisily, she closed the distance between them. Then she stopped, propped her hands on her knees, and gasped for breath. Her cheeks were bright, and her dark hair tangled over her shoulders. Dirt smudged her delicate chin.
But despite her exhaustion, determination gleamed in her eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel impressed. She was a hell of a fighter.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m…fine.”
“Want some water?”
Still wheezing, she shook her head, sending dark curls wisping around her flushed face. “No, I’m…all right.”
He doubted that, but they couldn’t afford to rest yet. They were still miles away from that clearing. Worse yet, sheltered in this valley between the mountains, he couldn’t tell where the fire was heading.
And that made him damned nervous.
“Hold on.” He dropped his PG bag to the ground and pulled his radio from the outside pocket. Ignoring the sharp pain lancing his shoulder, he straightened and keyed the mike.
Nothing happened.
He blinked, checked the switch, and tried again. Still nothing. Dread slinked through his gut. Hell, this was all they needed.
“What’s wrong?” Jordan asked, her voice high.
“Looks like the batteries died.” His jaw rigid, he jammed the radio back in his bag and pulled out his compass.
Jordan raised her hand to her throat.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. He kept his voice even so she wouldn’t worry. “They already know where to meet us.”
“But how are we doing on time?”
“Great.” As long as they flew the rest of the way. He checked the compass, relieved that they hadn’t veered off course, then shoved it into his pocket.
“Look,” he continued calmly. “There’s a lookout ridge just after we get out of this valley. It’s probably another hundred yards. If you think you can make it that far, we’ll wait and take a rest then.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Good.” He swung the bag back over his shoulder and, once he was sure she was ready, headed off at a steady pace. He’d spotted the ridge earlier that morning, back on the opposite peak. He hoped they could survey the fire from there, especially now that they’d lost radio contact.
Because he sure as hell didn’t want to walk into a trap.
And these were perfect blowup conditions. The steep slopes and high winds would increase the speed of the fire. And if that blaze switched paths, tunneling through the valley and igniting below them, they could never escape.
His throat clenched tight, and a cold chill snaked up his spine. He’d seen the videos, completed the training. Knew all about Mann Gulch and Storm King Mountain, when smokejumpers in conditions just like these had found themselves entrapped. They’d streamed up the mountain, dazed and panicked, trying desperately to outrun the flames, sprinting frantically for their lives. A race they were destined to lose.
And the same thing could happen to them here.
His nerves tighter than a parachute’s shroud lines, he rammed his worries to the back of his mind, where they wouldn’t distract him from the task at hand. Instead, he focused on slugging up the steep slope toward the ridge so he could find the best way to safety.
But his body protested with every step. His skull banged beneath his hard hat. The dull ache pulsing his shoulder now racked him with piercing pain. And if he felt this lousy, he couldn’t imagine how Jordan kept up.
He glanced back, and regret surged through his chest. He wished he could help her more. If his damn shoulder would cooperate, he’d carry her over the mountain. She didn’t weigh much more than a loaded pack.
Too bad she didn’t have crutches. He frowned, wondering why that hadn’t occurred to him before. This deep in the forest, he could easily find a walking stick.
He kept an eye out for likely branches as he continued hiking. He had plenty to choose from. It had been decades since a fire had burned through, leaving the area choked with deadfall and brush. Which made the forest
