“Yeah.” His brows furrowed, and he looked troubled, as if he wanted to say more. But then he turned away. She waited until he started walking before she slowly fell in behind him.
A deep sense of futility filled her, but she shook the sensation off. She couldn’t dwell on what she’d lost, not now. And she couldn’t think about the future, or what could never be. She’d just concentrate on the present, getting herself up that next mountain.
No matter how much she ached for this man.
As Cade had predicted, the game trail had stopped at the creek. She let him take the lead, content to plod behind him as he blazed a path through the brush. She skirted huckleberry bushes laden with berries, detoured around alder and fir trees and crawled over decaying logs. Maneuvering through the rough terrain took concentration, giving her a welcome excuse to stay silent. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her heartbreak with Cade.
But as the yards passed the slope grew even steeper, and her pace dramatically slowed. Her lungs burned, her breathing grew harsh and her chest felt stuffed with cotton. And despite the bandage, her ankle screamed with every step.
“Are you okay?” Cade called back.
“I’m fine,” she wheezed out. A sharp branch scratched her face, and she batted it back.
So this was how Cade spent his summers, she marveled. Hiking through the untamed forest, going without showers for days. She wondered how he could stand it. She’d never survive a packout, especially with a hundred pounds of tools on her back.
Smokejumpers were a special breed, all right. She couldn’t imagine competing for this job.
Exhausted now, she glanced at the dog. He trotted happily beside her, sending a slither of warmth to her heart. He looked silly with Cade’s sock knotted on his collar, and despite crossing the river, he still desperately needed a bath. But at least he wasn’t wandering through the forest alone anymore.
A few yards later, Cade stopped. Desperate for the break, she stumbled to a halt beside him.
“You thirsty?” he asked.
She sawed air through her burning lungs and nodded. He turned to give her access to his PG bag, and she gratefully grabbed the canteen. She drank deeply, greedily, relishing the moisture on her raw throat. She paused, wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and guzzled down more.
With her thirst partially quenched, she handed him the canteen. He took several long gulps and gave it back. She drank again, then recapped it and slipped it into his bag, ready to go.
But he didn’t move. Still panting, she looked up.
“Why didn’t you sell the cabin before now?” he asked.
Her breath stopped, and all at once she felt dizzy, as if she hadn’t the strength to stand up. It was a good question, one she’d refused to answer for years. And one she’d prayed he wouldn’t ask.
But she’d dodged the truth long enough. She inhaled sharply to gather her courage, then locked her gaze on his. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess I didn’t want to think about it at first, the cabin, the divorce.”
“Your lawyer demanded the cabin in the settlement.”
“I…I didn’t know. I should have. I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard. “I know that’s not an excuse. I was young and silly. A coward,” she admitted. She’d been so intent on avoiding Cade that she hadn’t even questioned the terms. “I just wanted to forget.
“But it didn’t work,” she whispered. “I couldn’t forget. Not the marriage, and certainly not you.”
She searched his eyes, hoping he’d understand, but his expression remained blank.
She sighed. “Later on, I thought about selling, but I still couldn’t make myself do it.” She couldn’t sever that last tie to Cade. “And I think…I knew that I had to come back here to face the past. To think about what had happened. But I didn’t have the courage until now.”
His hard jaw tightened beneath the bristles, and the muscles in his taut cheeks tensed. Then something like 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
