* * * * *
The storm continued throughout the night, but as dawn broke, the seas calmed. Talon glanced at Kate, who bailed mechanically on the other side of the small boat. Her head drooped with exhaustion, her hands moving independently of her mind.
He reached out and stopped her, putting his hands on hers, stunned by how cold they were. “It’s all right, Kate. It’s all right. You can stop now.”
She looked up at him, her eyes glassy and unfocused. He yearned to pull her close and share his body heat. But she wouldn’t appreciate that even now, so he fought the impulse.
Instead, he reached beneath the seat and pulled out the bundle of blankets and clothes he’d kept dry with a large piece of oilcloth. He spread the oilcloth across the wet hull and then placed several blankets on top of it.
“Lie down for awhile. Get some rest.”
She nodded and crawled to the makeshift bed. “What about you? Shouldn’t you rest, too?”
He shook his head. “I need to figure out where we are and start trying to row toward land. We weren’t far from shore when the storm hit, but we could have been swept a hundred miles farther out last night.”
“We could still die, couldn’t we? We could just drift out here until we die of thirst or hunger.”
He hated the resignation in her voice. Had he done that to her? She had once been such a fighter. “We have plenty of food and fresh water. We’ll make it. Just have a little faith in me.”
“I wish I could,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I wish you were half the man I once thought you were.”
