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“Wow, you must be brilliant!” Carly blurted.
He stared at her. “What?”
“To have learned all of those languages without being able to read them to study? That’s amazing.”
Justin’s face slowly split into a grin. “Carly, you’re amazing. That has to be the first time anyone has ever been impressed I’m dyslexic.”
“And you’re one hell of a Scrabble player, too. You bet I’m impressed.” She supposed the plainly-inscribed letters on the tiles would be easier to distinguish than those printed in a book, but it must have been quite a feat to memorize the spelling of words without being able to always see them properly.
He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Carly.”
Carly blushed fiercely and her cheek tingled where his lips had brushed it. She didn’t know what to make of him sometimes, whether he was teasing or flirting, whether little gestures like his hugs and this kiss on the cheek were meant to be platonic. Maybe he was just an affectionate guy.
She was grateful for the distraction of putting away the rest of their cooking supplies and the entertaining spectacle of watching Justin climb a tree to hang their non-canned food from a high limb to keep the bears out of it.
“But wouldn’t the bears have died from the Infection, too?”
“Yeah, just like the horses and the wolves. With the way you draw animals, I’m not taking any chances that the only bear left in the Yukon will find us. And before you ask—no, we’re not adding a bear to our motley crew.”
Carly laughed, changing into her pajamas behind a tree while picturing a bear napping beside Sam in front of the fire. She felt the need for a shower, or at least a wipe down, but didn’t feel as if her location was private enough for that, and she wasn’t about to wander off into the woods by herself at night. They unrolled their sleeping bags in the tent. Funny how it had seemed so much larger before they were both confined in its space.
Carly called for Sam, and he spun around in circles before settling on the foot of her sleeping bag with a sigh. Justin zipped it up and lay down on his own sleeping bag, instead of inside it. She wondered why, but decided not to question it. For all she knew, it was one of those survival things that would make her look stupid again for not knowing it. He didn’t use a pillow, either, though Carly had one taken from the hotel in Skagway. He put his handgun on the tent floor behind his head and his big hunting knife under the edge of his sleeping bag beside him. “Sleep well, Carly.”
“Good night.” Carly snuggled down into her pillow.
Chapter Three
“I can do this,” Carly said to herself. “I can. It’s just a matter of willpower. Keep pushing. We’re almost there. I can do this.”
Her calf muscles burned with exhaustion, and it wasn’t even lunch time yet. Carly leaned forward and pushed. The bike wobbled beneath her. She pushed down with the other leg. “Come on. Come on...” She was going at a slower-than-walking pace. Justin turned to look at her, and that’s when Carly lost her balance and toppled over. The bike clattered on the pavement, and she scraped her palms when she landed. Fortunately, she was wearing her jeans, so her knees were protected.
Flushed with embarrassment, Carly climbed to her feet.
Justin hopped off of his own bike and came over to help her up. “Let me see your hands.”
“I’m fine.”
“Carly, let me see.” His voice was low and coaxing, which made her feel even more foolish for objecting, but she just wanted to get back on her bike and forget about it. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Even a small scrape is nothing to fuck around with now. If you get an infection...”
“Justin, it didn’t even break the skin. I’m fine.”
“Sit down,” he coaxed. “Come on. Please?”
With a sigh of exasperation, Carly did as he asked. Justin took her hands in his and examined her palms.
“See? No big deal.”
“They should still be cleaned, just in case.”
“Fine,” she said with ill grace. “If it means that much to you.”
He went to the wagon and brought back a bottle of peroxide. She stretched out her arms and let him pour a stream of it over her wounds. She hissed at the sting; maybe it was deeper than she thought.
“Your knees?”
“Will you believe me if I say I’m fine?” she asked with a small smile.
