“Yeah.” Which was their bad luck, but he hadn’t expected the trail to be problem-free. In fact, he was surprised they’d made it this far.
Jordan crossed her arms. “So now what? Should we turn around?”
He started to shake his head, but the stabbing pain stopped him cold. “Too dangerous. We need to keep going in case the fire turns.”
“You think there’s another bridge?”
“No, we’ll just have to cross without one. The bank isn’t steep,” he added. “The Jeep can make it down.”
Her eyes widened, and even in the low light he could see her alarm. “But what about the water? How do we get through that?”
He kept his gaze steady on hers, hoping she wouldn’t panic. “I’m guessing it’s pretty shallow with the drought we’ve had. But we won’t know for sure until we’re in it.”
Her hand rose to her throat. He wished he could spare her this. He worked with danger and risked his life every day. But she’d always been more vulnerable, in need of protection. Or so he’d thought.
“If you want, we can leave the Jeep here and wade across,” he said slowly. “I can come back later and pick it up.”
“But then we’d have to hike to that road. And what if the fire turns? Wouldn’t it be better if we had the Jeep?”
“Maybe.” Depending on the path the fire took.
She turned toward the river again. The Jeep’s high beams reflected off the thrashing water. The scent of moisture permeated the air. “I guess we’d better drive it across,” she finally said. “But shouldn’t we wait until morning?”
“More light won’t help that much.” The real danger lay under the water, with river rocks and mud. “And the way that front is moving, I’d rather cross tonight, at least get a firebreak between us and the fire.” Even then, sparks could blow across, but he didn’t mention that. She already looked anxious enough.
Her long sigh cut through the dusk. “All right, but you’d better drive. This is totally out of my league.”
If only he could. He tried to lift his right arm, but sharp pain blazed through his shoulder, a deep, dizzying spasm that burned from his neck to his ribs.
He clenched his jaw and sucked in his breath, willing the ache to subside. He’d always been the strong one, the man who took all the risks. Sure, he relied on his smokejumping bros, but that was part of the job.
But this weakness, this damned dependency…
His stomach balled, and something close to panic rocked his nerves. It was only temporary, for God’s sake. He wasn’t a permanent ground-pounder. He’d be back on the jump list in no time.
But it was still damned hard to admit. He forced his fist to uncurl. “You’ll have to do it. I can’t shift with my shoulder this bad.”
The rushing water filled the stark silence. He felt Jordan’s gaze on him, and his pulse slugged hard through his head, as if he’d just run the PT test. God, he hated being weak.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll try.”
He flicked his gaze to hers, but didn’t see condemnation. The knot slowly eased in his gut.
But then, she’d always had that effect on him. She’d been his oasis, his refuge, offering him the comfort and solace he’d craved.
“Do you want to make that sling now?” she asked.
“Later, after we cross the river. We can take a break on the other side.”
Her eyes searched his. Her delicate brows wrinkled with worry, not for her own safety, but for his. His resentment slipped another notch.
And suddenly, he wanted to move closer, to feel that gentle warmth. To bask in her approval, her acceptance.
And that was as dangerous as the fire. He couldn’t let down his defenses. This woman had the power to destroy him, just as she’d done before.
He’d barely survived it the first time. He’d spent months enraged, so bitter he could barely sleep. Always doubting, forever questioning, wondering what on earth he’d done wrong. And he’d be damned if he’d suffer through that hell again.
He yanked his mind to the river and stepped back. “We’d better go.” Without waiting for her to answer, he circled the roadblock and strode to the back of the Jeep. Once there, he popped the rear window, picked up the nylon rope and tossed it on top of his PG bag.
A few seconds later, Jordan joined him. And despite his resolve, her soft, feminine scent invaded his space and heightened his senses. Annoyed by his reaction, he stepped away. “You’d better put a bag together,” he told her. “In case we have to bail out midstream.”
He heard her suck in her breath. He didn’t want to scare her, but they had to prepare. “I doubt you’ll need it,” he added.
“I know.” But her hands trembled as she dumped out an athletic bag full of toiletries. She pulled a blanket and clothes from various bags, along with food from the cooler and a plastic bowl. “For the dog,” she explained.
She zipped the bag closed and dropped it on the backseat. The dog raised his head and whined.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “We’re not going to leave you here.”
She meant that, Cade knew. She would risk her own life before she abandoned that dog. Of course, he’d once thought she was that committed to him.
Shoving aside a rush of resentment, he closed the rear window, walked back to the passenger door and climbed in. Pain bolted down his shoulder with the movement. He panted quietly, sucking in fast, shallow breaths until the spasm passed, knowing this wasn’t the time to be weak.
Jordan slid into the driver’s seat and closed her door. She latched her seat belt, and her uncertain gaze met his.
“Ready?” he managed as the pain edged back to an ache.
“I guess so.” Her gaze moved over his chest. “Do you want me to help with your seat belt?”
“No.” He’d rather suffer than have her that close.
“This could get bumpy.”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just go.”
“If you say so.” Looking doubtful, she shoved the Jeep into gear, tightened her grip on the wheel and backed up.
“Try going down by that tree.” He pointed to an alder tree still visible on the bank downstream.
“All right.”
He gritted his teeth as the Jeep bumped over the rocky ground to the bank, which sloped gradually down to the river. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but the headlights cut through the mounting darkness. The water gleamed as it floated past.
Jordan stopped and adjusted her hands on the wheel. Her knuckles shone in the dashboard’s light and she inhaled sharply. “Here goes.”
The Jeep tipped, and she quickly slammed on the brakes, throwing him forward. “I’m sorry!” she gasped as he hit the dashboard.
Pain stabbed his shoulder, and nausea flooded his gut. Stifling a groan, he shoved himself back in his seat. “Keep going.”
She edged up her foot and they rushed ahead, bumped over a rock, then stopped. Feeling dazed, he sucked in his breath. “You’re doing great,” he ground out.
She slanted him a skeptical glance. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind getting whiplash.”
They sped forward again, dropped into a pothole, tipped to the side and jolted out. Struggling for balance, Cade braced his boot against the dashboard.
The Jeep lurched over another rock and stopped abruptly, ramming his knee to his chest. A spasm racked his shoulder and he fought down another groan. Forget whiplash. If she kept this up, he’d pass out before they reached the bottom.
But a few feet later, the bank mercifully flattened, and she let up on the brakes. The Jeep bounced down to the riverbed then stopped with a sudden jerk.
