Kitabı oku: «Facing the Fire», sayfa 3

She frowned. “I guess I never appreciated that before. I mean, I knew what you did, but I never really thought about the lives you save.” She’d focused on the danger, the glamour, the excitement of leaping from planes.

The time he’d spent apart from her.

“You’re a hero,” she admitted.

“Hardly. I just do my job.”

“You do far more than that. You’re amazing.” Their gazes locked. The seconds stretched. And she wondered if she’d really known him back then, ever seen beyond her own needs to the essence of this man.

And that bothered her. She’d come here to let go of the past, not to see Cade in a better light.

Or to find out she’d been wrong.

“We’d better go,” he said.

“All right.” Still unsettled, she followed him back to the Jeep and started the engine. He slid in the passenger side and closed the door.

“How far until we meet up with that Forest Service road?” she asked.

“Hold on. I’ll check the map.” He turned on the dome light and reached toward the backseat, then stopped.

The pallor of his face caught her attention. “I’ve got it.” She grabbed the map and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He spread it awkwardly over his lap. After a moment, he lifted his head. “We should get to a river pretty quick. Once we cross that, we’ve got about twenty miles to go.”

“Twenty miles? Just to reach a dirt road?” Her jaw sagged. This trip could take all night. And she couldn’t imagine driving this trail in full darkness. “But what about your shoulder?”

“It’s fine. I’m guessing my collarbone’s cracked, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” She gaped at him. “Are you joking? You must be in terrible pain.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Right.” She didn’t believe that for a second. “Is there something we can do?”

“We can rig a sling up later, when we’re farther away from the fire. I don’t want to take the time right now.”

“All right,” she said, still stunned. She knew they didn’t have the luxury of stopping, at least not yet. “But let me know when you want to do it.” She put the Jeep into gear and released the brake.

A quarter mile later, they crossed the ridge top and started down the opposite side. They descended slowly, working their way haltingly down the rutted road, every sway and jostle of the Jeep bringing their shoulders dangerously closer. Jordan focused on the path the headlights cut through the dusk, determined to ignore her nearness to Cade.

The smell of the fire finally faded, replaced by the strong smell of pine. She braved a glance at Cade. He’d fallen asleep, thank God. At least now he could escape the pain that injury must cause. And she could stop pretending he didn’t affect her.

She let her gaze linger on his handsome face, on the hard, familiar planes of his cheekbones, the stubbled line of his jaw. The dim light emphasized the shadows under his eyes, his fatigue. He seemed vulnerable suddenly, exhausted, and she felt a reluctant surge of sympathy.

He’d always come home from fires worn out. He’d shower, wolf down more food than she’d thought possible and promptly crash into bed. And leave her feeling even lonelier than when he’d been gone.

She forced her gaze back to the road. After seeing that fire, she had to admit he had a right to be tired. She could only imagine the strength his job demanded.

Pensive now, she continued picking her way down the mountain. Soon she heard a low rushing sound over the noise of the motor. It grew steadily louder, and her hopes rose. They’d made it to the river. Now just twenty more miles until they reached a normal dirt road.

But then the headlights flashed on a barrier blocking their path and she quickly slammed on the brakes.

“What’s wrong?” Cade asked, his voice rough with sleep.

She peered through the windshield at the metal pole. What on earth? “The road’s closed.”

He dragged a hand over his eyes and straightened. “I’ll check it out.”

“I’ll come with you.” Her anxiety rising, she pushed open her door. Why would anyone block off this old trail? Unless…

She hurried around the front of the Jeep. The sound of rushing water filled her ears. The Jeep’s headlights shone past the barrier to the dark, swirling water below, and her breath jammed in her throat.

Someone had put up that pole for good reason. The bridge was gone.

Chapter 4

Cade strode around the roadblock and peered down at the river snaking through the rock-strewn valley. Months of drought had shrunk it back from its broad banks, exposing rocks and stranded deadfall. But even now, in this weakened state, it wouldn’t be easy to cross.

“I can’t believe this,” Jordan said from beside him. “Why would anyone take out the bridge?”

Her voice floated to him in the dim light, and the low, throaty sound tightened his nerves. He forced himself to ignore that temptation and concentrate on the problem at hand. “The mining company probably built it. They wouldn’t want to maintain it after they shut down. And nobody uses this road.”

“Except for us.”

“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. Hell. His damned arm was practically useless.

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. Her love.

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.

They both exhaled. A second later, her gaze met his. “Stage one. Now to get us through that water.”

Cade’s mouth curved up, and he felt a glimmer of pride, much like he did for his rookies. Despite her inexperience and fear, she’d pulled through.

“Any special route I should take?” she asked.

He turned his attention back to the river. The headlights lit the swirling current but the water beyond that was nearly black. “Not that I can tell. Get closer and we’ll see how it looks.”

“All right.” Small stones and branches crunched under the tires as she drove forward. The Jeep jostled over the uneven ground, but didn’t slip. When they reached the water, she braked.

He peered through the windshield. The water trickled harmlessly along the river’s edges, skirting rocks and splitting into shallow side streams. But yards of dark, unbroken water stretched across the center.

“You think we can cross it?” she asked, her voice tight.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” His gaze met hers and he saw the anxiety crowding her eyes. “Hey.” He lifted his hand to touch her, to stroke away the worry and soothe the rapid drum of her pulse. Then he stopped. She wasn’t his to touch anymore.

He dropped his hand to his knee. “You’ll do fine.”

“Right.” She managed a strained smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and flicked her gaze back to the river. Then she sat up straighter, eased out the clutch and drove in.

Cade stuck his head out the window to watch. The water barely moistened the hubcaps. “It’s just a few inches deep.”

“Should I go faster?”

“No, this is good.”

The Jeep rolled steadily forward, swaying and bumping over rocks. The smell of water spread through the cooling night air. He glanced at Jordan and saw that she’d glued both hands to the wheel. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t know.” She nibbled her lip. “I wish we didn’t have so far to go.”

“We’ll get through it.”

She shot him a quick glance. “You think so? It looks like it’s getting deeper.”

“Yeah.” Ignoring his throbbing shoulder, he leaned out the window again. The water had inched to the top of the hubcaps. “But we’re still okay.” At least they hadn’t sunk into mud.

They drove further into the river, and the water continued to rise. The Jeep tipped on a rock, and she righted it with a splash.

“Cade…”

“I know.” He frowned at the water creeping toward the axle, then shifted his gaze to the shore. Hell. They weren’t going to make it after all.

Resigned, he pulled his head back inside. “Okay, we’d better turn ar—”

A metallic screech rent the air, and the Jeep abruptly stopped. Oh, hell.

“What happened?” Jordan asked, her voice high. “What did we hit?”

“A rock, probably.” Under the water where they couldn’t see it.

“Oh, God.”

He kept his tone calm. “It’s all right. Let’s try backing up and see if we can dislodge it.”

She shoved the gearshift into Reverse and pressed on the gas. The tires spun, but the Jeep didn’t move. She stopped, inhaled sharply, then tried again.

“Not too fast.” He hung his head out the window as water streamed up the door. “Okay, a little harder.”

She hit the gas and the engine’s fan came on. “Not too much,” he cautioned. She slowed, but then the engine sputtered and missed. “Stop!” He jerked his head back inside.

“What’s wrong?” Jordan asked. The Jeep vibrated roughly, coughing and stumbling badly.

“Water probably got into the engine.”

“Water? But how do we—”

The vehicle bucked, jolting them forward, then died.

The river’s rush filled the sudden silence. Water splashed past in the light of the Jeep’s high beams. “Try to start it,” he said.

She cranked the engine. It churned and whined in the silence. She turned it off and tried again.

“You might as well stop,” he finally said when it didn’t catch. “We’ll have to let it dry out.”

“How long will that take?”

“Hard to say. A few hours maybe.”

“A few hours!” Her gaze flew to his. “But we can’t just sit here and wait.”

“No.” He kept his gaze steady on hers. “We need to keep going. We’ll come back later and tow the Jeep.”

She bit her lip as that shock registered, and tension tightened her elegant jaw. But after several long seconds, she nodded. “So how do you want to do this?”

His respect for her rose. She was a fighter; he’d give her that much. Despite the setback, she didn’t balk.

He returned his gaze to the river. “We can use the rope. We’ll tie it off to the bumper.”

“You think it’s that deep?”

“Probably not, but the rocks could be slick. We’ll hold on to it for balance.”

“What about the dog?”

“He can swim.”

“But what if he goes the wrong way? He might head back toward the fire.”

He frowned back at the dog huddled behind his seat. The dog’s worried gaze lifted to his. “I’ve still got that beef jerky in my bag. Won’t he follow the smell of that?”

“Not if he’s scared.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I can carry him across first, then come back and help with the bags.”

The muscles along his jaw flexed. He wasn’t that damn helpless. “I’ll carry the bags. And if you’re that worried about the dog, tie him to the other end of the rope. Then you can pull him along.”

“That’s a great idea.” Her lips curved, and her blatant approval blocked the air in his lungs.

And without warning, the old dizziness seeped through his brain. That heady, off-kilter feeling that made him want to promise the moon. To do anything to feel her admiration, her respect.

Jordan grabbed her bag from the backseat and stuffed her purse inside. Then she propped it between the seats and picked up the rope. “Are you going to take off your boots?”

Still feeling light-headed, he pulled his attention back to the problem at hand. “No, the rocks could be sharp.”

“Then I’ll keep my tennis shoes on.” She handed him the rope, then pushed her seat farther back. Rising to one knee, she bent and lifted the dog. “You really do stink,” she said as she slid with him into her seat. She kissed the top of his head and rubbed his ears. “But we’re still not going to leave you.”

She shot Cade a grin. “At least he’ll get a bath out of this.”

Impressed that she could joke under pressure, he shook his head. She was a trooper, all right. And that lethal combination of feminine warmth and grit made her hard to resist.

“Tie this to his collar.” He handed her the end of the rope. “We’ll hook the other end to the bumper and hold on to that.”

“Got it.” She threaded the rope under the dog’s collar and secured the knot. Then she took a deep breath to gather her courage and pushed on her door. It didn’t budge, so she shoved again, hard.

The door swung slowly open and she looked out. The dark, swirling water lapped at the floorboards, and dread spiked through her nerves. Good God, she didn’t want to do this.

But Cade needed her help, and so did the dog. She sucked in her breath and hopped out. And shrieked.

“Cold?” Cade asked.

“No, it’s great,” she lied, shivering wildly. “Jump right in.”

Cade’s low chuckle drifted on the night air. She turned, set the dog back on her seat and grabbed the rope. “You stay here,” she told the dog. Then she looked at Cade. He’d attached the headlamp to his hard hat and put it on.

“I’ll tie the other end to the bumper,” she said. “I’ll come back for my bag and the dog.”

Locking her jaw against the cold, she waded to the front of the Jeep. The icy water soaked through her lightweight sneakers and plastered her jeans to her calves.

Cade’s door swung open, then closed. “You were right about the stones,” she said as he came over. Even with her shoes on, she could feel them poking her feet.

She threaded the rope around the bumper and knotted it several times. She worked quickly, but her hands grew stiff from the cold. Cade switched on his headlamp for extra light.

“Let’s see.” He grabbed the rope near the knots and pulled. “Looks good.”

A sense of victory spread through her, and she grinned. Maybe tying a few knots wasn’t important, but at least she’d done something right.

Cade had both bags slung over his good shoulder. “Here,” she said, reaching up. “I’ll take mine.”

“Never mind. I’ve got it.”

“Don’t be silly.” Especially since he needed that arm for the rope.

“I said I’ve got it.”

She recognized that stubborn tone. “Fine. I’ll get the dog.” Her teeth chattering now, she waded slowly around her door to the seat.

“Here we go.” She lifted the trembling dog, then paused to scratch his ear. “You know, you’re pretty heavy for someone so skinny.” Checking to making sure his rope didn’t catch, she stepped back and closed the door.

Cade waited in the path of the headlights, the rest of the rope in his hand. “I’ll go first,” he said. He played out a few feet of line. “Hang on to this part behind me. And you might as well set down the dog. He can swim.”

“In a minute.” She clutched the shaking dog tighter and rubbed her cheek on his head. She didn’t know who needed the comfort more, the dog or herself. “We’ll get through this together,” she whispered.

Cade waited until she grabbed the rope behind him, then started walking toward shore. She followed in his wake, letting the cold rope slide through her hand. The uneven rocks made it hard to stay upright and she tightened her grip on the dog. “We’re okay,” she said, more to herself than to him.

The current pushed against her knees as she waded along. She tried not to think about the dark, rushing water turning her feet to ice. She focused instead on Cade’s strong back, relying on him to guide her.

Cade stopped a few yards later and waited for her to catch up. “You okay?”

“Yes.” But she knew they’d freeze unless they picked up the pace. “I’d better put the dog down, though.” She reluctantly set him in the water and tugged on the line, relieved when he paddled beside her. “Good boy!”

They started walking again. It was easier moving without the dog in her arms, but the frigid water now crept up her thighs. She waded faster, forcing herself to breathe deeply despite the chills ravaging her body.

But God, it was cold. And the river was wider than she’d thought. For an eternity, she trudged behind Cade, slipping and splashing over the rocks, her teeth chattering nonstop. Then the water lapped her waist, and she gasped.

Cade stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She locked her jaw to stop the clacking and shook her head.

He still looked at her. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m f-f-fine. Just c-c-cold.”

“Hell.” He looked ahead at the bank. “We don’t have too far to go.”

But she knew she was slowing him down. He was already injured—badly, she suspected. He couldn’t afford to get chilled.

But the river kept getting deeper. She glanced at the bags dangling from his muscled shoulder. The bags with all their dry clothes. “Are you sure I can’t—”

“I’ve got them,” he said, his voice hard. “Now get moving before you freeze.”

He let go of the rope and hoisted the bags higher on his shoulder with his good hand. “You’ll have to lead,” he added. “I need to hold up the bags.”

Too cold to argue, she plodded past him, then instantly slowed her pace. “Th-this is hard.” With no one to guide her, she had to work to find the best footing, especially since a mistake could jeopardize Cade.

She stumbled, then quickly righted herself. It was definitely easier to rely on Cade, and not just to get through the river. She’d depended on him for so many things during their marriage. Companionship, friendship, love…Maybe she’d relied on him too much?

Jolted by that thought, she stopped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“N-n-nothing.”

“Do you want to wear my hard hat?”

“I can s-s-see.” She forced herself to continue walking. This wasn’t the time to mull over their marriage. She needed to get them out of this river before they froze.

And God, it was cold. Shivers coursed through her body. Her teeth chattered so hard she couldn’t think. She could only imagine how miserable Cade felt with his injuries.

She slipped and slid over a jumble of rocks, struggling to maintain her balance. The current pushed relentlessly against her, and she had to fight not to float downstream. But at least the dog had stayed with her. She tightened her grip on the makeshift leash.

Yards later, the rocks leveled out, making it easier to walk. But just as she started to relax, the rope ran out. She stopped.

“Forget the rope,” Cade said from behind her. “We don’t need it anymore.”

She looked up in surprise. He was right. They’d almost crossed the river. And the water had dropped to her waist.

“You go ahead,” she said. “I n-n-need to un-t-t-tie the dog.”

“Forget it. We stay together.”

“B-b-but—”

“Just hurry up.”

Shaking, she pulled the dog into her arms, then struggled to untie the rope. Her stiff fingers couldn’t work the wet knot.

“Take off his collar,” Cade suggested.

She switched her attention to the buckle, but even that proved too much for her frozen hands. “I c-c-can’t.” Her desperation rose.

“There’s a knife on my belt,” he said. “In the sheath. Pull it out and cut the rope.”

Shivering, she released the dog, and he treaded water beside her. Cade turned to give her access to his belt. Still shaking, she stuck her numb hand into the sheath and grasped the knife. Then she pulled it out.

And promptly dropped it.

Oh, God. She stared at the water in horror. It was too dark to see to the bottom. She lifted her stunned gaze to Cade.

“I’ll get it,” he said. “Here. Hold the bags for a minute.”

She reached for the bags, then stopped. What was she doing? Cade was hurt. He shouldn’t be getting wet. And what if he bumped his injured shoulder? She could search for the knife better than he could. Before he could stop her, she took a deep breath and plunged.

Completely submerged now, she groped blindly along the bottom with her hands. She felt rocks and silt, but not the knife. The current must have pushed it downstream. She rose, sucked in another breath of air, and sank back down.

This time, she swept the area a few feet away. She crawled along the rocks, running her hands over the bottom. Suddenly, the back of her hand brushed the knife. Relieved, she lunged forward and grabbed it, then stood.

Water sluiced over her face as she triumphantly brandished her prize. Cade took it from her shaking hand.

“Hold the rope so I can cut it,” he said, sounding angry.

She clutched the dog’s rope, and he sawed it off. “All right, let’s go.” He stuck the knife in his sheath and grabbed her arm.

Blinking back the water from her eyes, she started moving. But she could hardly feel her feet anymore, let alone keep pace with Cade. She stumbled, and he jerked her upright.

“The d-d-dog—”

“He’s coming. Now hurry up.” Cade picked up the pace and she couldn’t turn back to check. Dazed, her body convulsing with shivers, she fought to keep up.

Seconds later, the water fell to her knees. Then suddenly, it was gone. Her teeth clacking hard now, she staggered across the dry rocks. Water squished through her shoes. The wind whipped her wet hair across her face, lashing her frozen skin.

The dog trotted beside her, then paused to shake. Relief swept through her. He’d survived.

She stopped, but Cade nudged her forward. “Keep moving. Over to those trees.” He bumped her again, and she stumbled up the grassy bank to a cluster of pines.

“Stop,” he said. “Now start taking off those wet clothes.”

“The d-d-dog…”

“I’ll get him.” He dropped the bags to the ground, pulled out his radio and turned away.

Too numb to move, she watched him stride toward the river. A huge swell of emotion overcame her, cramping her chest. His shoulder had to ache unbearably. And he was wet, too; he had to feel terribly cold.

And yet, he’d carried their bags. He’d helped her to shore. And he still continued to work.

Not for her sake, at least not anymore. No, not because of her. In spite of her.

Because he was that kind of man.

The lump in her throat grew thicker, and feelings she couldn’t name wadded her chest. “C-C-Cade,” she stammered. He paused and looked back. “Thank you.”

His gaze stayed on hers for an endless moment. The night stilled, and even her heart seemed to cease beating. Then he nodded and turned away.