her gaze back to his. “That means our cabin’s gone, too.”
“Yeah.” Their gazes held.
And without warning, the air between them hung still, held immobile by the weight of the past. And memories piled up, images of when they’d been happy. Of Jordan smiling, her brown eyes gleaming with laughter. Of Jordan naked, her beautiful face taut with desire. His rapture at being with the one person on earth who met his needs.
The pine trees moaned overhead, and a stark emptiness seeped through his gut, a feeling of loss. Not for the cabin. Anyone could rebuild that. And new pine trees would eventually replace the burned ones, filling in the black.
No, the loss struck deeper, sharper, as if, with the cabin, a time of his life had vanished. And that seemed more final than the divorce.
He watched a series of similar emotions flicker across her face-pain and loss, regret. And suddenly, he saw beyond his bitterness to the truth in her dark eyes. “So you did care.”
“Yes.” Her whisper sent heat to his chest. “Of course I cared. God, I loved you so much.”
But then why the hell had she left?
“Cade, I-” She lifted her hand, then closed her mouth and shook her head.
She didn’t continue, and he sucked in a breath. The acrid smoke burned his lungs and pulled him back to the present. The fire. Their survival. That last steep stretch to the clearing.
This wasn’t the time to ask questions and rehash their past. He would figure all that out later, after that chopper airlifted them out.
When he had time to demand some answers.
She gave him a section of orange and cleared her throat. “So, it’s a good thing we switched directions.”
“Yeah.”
“But is it…Can the fire-”
“I doubt it.” He hated to lie, but she didn’t need him fueling her fears. “But I don’t really know,” he added, compelled to be honest. “The way this wind’s shifting, anything can happen.”
He swallowed the orange, took a deep slug of water and handed her back the canteen. Thinking hard now, he strode to the ledge to plot their course. To get to the clearing, they had to continue climbing up the south face of the mountain. The trek would be steep and slow, especially with Jordan’s sore ankle.
What bothered him was that he couldn’t see around the spur ridge. With the tall trees blocking his view, he couldn’t see where they needed to go. And if a finger of flame crept off the front and ignited this side…
Dread cramped his gut, and he tamped down the slither of fear. If only he could crank up that radio. He needed an update from dispatch, or for one of those tanker pilots to relay the view from the sky.
But his batteries were dead, and he couldn’t call, which meant they had to keep hiking. They didn’t have a choice. It was their only way off this mountain.
But he’d damn well better find an escape route in case that fire blew up. And with all the unburned fuel in this forest, he didn’t know how he’d manage that. They needed a burned-out section, another rock slide, something that fire would skirt around. And he hadn’t seen anything like that for miles.
He strode back to Jordan. She scrambled to her feet, her eyes locked on his. “Are you ready?” she asked, her voice quivering.
“Yeah.” He lifted their bags while she wrapped the leash around her fist and picked up her stick.
His gaze met hers again when she straightened. “We’re going to keep angling up the mountain. We’ll zigzag to make it easier, but it’s probably going to be steep. We need to get around to the south side where that clearing is.”
“I understand.”
Worry lurked in her dark chestnut eyes, along with fear. And he knew that she really did understand. This was it. They might not have another chance to talk. If that fire blasted up this mountain, they’d be running for their lives.
“Cade,” she whispered. Her beautiful eyes tugged at his heart.
“Yeah.” Unable to resist, he reached out and ran his thumb over her soft cheek. The smooth skin blazed through his nerves, swamping him with sensations, like a gentle voice calling him home.
Her thick, dark lashes shadowed her creamy cheeks as her gaze fell to his mouth. A shiver rose on his skin, and then the world seemed to stop, as if binding them together one last time.
And suddenly, he needed to kiss her, to touch her. To feel that soothing warmth deep in his soul.
As if reading his mind, she inched closer. He angled his head as she closed her eyes, and he slid his lips over hers. He tasted her sultry heat, her delicate sweetness, and felt her gentle breath mingle with his, just as he had a thousand times before and wanted to again.
She trembled against him and her quiet sigh called to his heart. To the part in him that yearned for her comfort, her love.
He cupped her smooth jaw with his good hand and tilted her head up to his. Then he deepened the kiss, moving past comfort into need. Surrendering to the male instincts that pulsed in his blood.
She lifted her hand to his neck, and her gentleness made his heart swell. God, he’d missed her. He’d burned for her, ached for her, during all those lonely nights.
She was sweet and warm, and the sexiest woman he’d ever known. One look, one touch, and urgency ripped through his veins.
She’d clawed so deep into his heart that even after all these years, he couldn’t let her go.
But he had to. They had to get moving. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, then watched as her eyes inched open and her smoldering gaze lifted to his. Desire blurred her eyes, and something more. His heart jerked in recognition.
“Cade,” she said, her voice wobbling. She swallowed and her throat muscles moved. “I…I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah.” So was he. And he’d figure that out later.
“And I need to tell you, about when I left. I should have told you before, but I-”
“Hey.” He smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? After we get on that chopper.”
“But…” Her luminous eyes searched his. “We might not…What if we don’t-”
“We’ll make it,” he said. He kept his gaze steady on hers. “I promise.”
Her forehead creased, and her eyes clouded. She opened her mouth, as if she intended to argue, but then she closed it again. “All right. But you need to know. No matter what you think, I never meant to hurt you.”
Her eyes pulled at him, urging him to trust her, and he felt his final resistance slip. His lungs swelled tight. His breath jammed up. And God help him, but he believed her. No matter what she’d done in the past, he knew she was telling the truth.
The dog darted between their legs just then, and she looked down, breaking the spell. Cade sucked in the smoky air and stepped back. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” She managed a tremulous smile, and his heart puffed up. And for the first time, he let himself hope. For what, he didn’t know. But suddenly, he had more reasons than just the fire to hurry to that clearing.
Please don’t stop, Jordan pleaded silently. She tugged on the leash to get the dog moving again, then scrambled up the slope behind Cade. It was bad enough that she was slowing them down with her bad ankle. If Cade discovered that the dog kept balking, he’d insist that she let him go.
Not that she blamed Dusty for wanting to rest. She’d passed exhaustion miles ago. She plodded along, dazed and dizzy, her muscles trembling, planting one blistered foot in front of the other, stumbling over rocks and branches, just praying that she would stay upright.
And her ankle! A wild moan rose in her throat. She’d managed to hide it from Cade, but the fierce pain roiled through her nerves, making her clammy and nauseous. Leaning on the stick helped her foot, but the pressure had worked her palm raw. She didn’t know how she could make it to that clearing.
But she had to. Anxiety pulsed at the base of her skull, threatening to overwhelm her. She’d seen Cade’s expression back at the ridge. He’d covered it with his soothing tone, but she knew his nuances well.
He doubted that they would make it.
Because she was slowing them down.
