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Rusty glanced down at the top of Cooper’s head. “Cooper?” He looked up at her. “I don’t mind staying here alone. If you can cover more ground without me hobbling along, it only makes sense, doesn’t it? You could call my father as soon as you get to a telephone. He’ll send someone to pick me up. This could all be over by tomorrow night.”
He regarded her wistful expression. She’d go along and bear up under the hardships stoically if he insisted. But it wouldn’t be easy for her to cover fifteen miles of forested ground even if she weren’t injured. Through no fault of her own, she would cause them endless delays that might necessitate making camp for a night.
Still, he didn’t like the idea of being separated from her. No matter how feisty she was, she couldn’t effectively defend herself. In this environment she was as helpless as a butterfly. He wasn’t being sentimental, he assured himself. It was just that she had survived this long against incredible odds; he would hate for something to happen to her now that rescue was a probability instead of a pipe dream.
His hand folded around her knee protectively. “Let’s wait and see how you feel in the morning.”
The next several hours crawled by. Rusty didn’t know how the Gawrylows maintained their sanity. There was nothing to do, nothing to read, nothing to listen to or to look at—except each other. And when that became boring, they all stared at the sputtering kerosene lamp that put out more smelly black smoke than light.
One would expect these hermits to ply them with a million questions about the outside world, but the Gawrylows showed a marked absence of interest in anything that was going on beyond their boundaries.
Feeling grimy an
d unwashed, Rusty timidly asked for a bowl of water. Reuben stumbled over his own long feet while fetching it for her and slopped some of it in her lap before successfully setting it down.
She pushed the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows and washed her face and hands with the bar of soap Cooper had permitted her to bring along. She would have liked to savor the luxurious feeling of cupping handful after handful of water over her face, but three pairs of eyes were focused on her. When Cooper thrust one of his own T-shirts into her wet hands, she accepted it regretfully and dried her face.
Picking up her hairbrush, she began pulling it through her hair, which was not only dirtier than it had been in her life, but also matted and tangled. She was just beginning to work all the snarls out when Cooper jerked the brush out of her hands and said bossily, “That’s enough.”
She rounded on him, ready to protest, but his stony face stopped her. He’d been behaving strangely all day— more so than usual. She wanted to ask what the hell was wrong with him, why he was so edgy, but wisely decided that now wasn’t an opportune time for an argument.
She did, however, show her irritation by angrily snatching her hairbrush back and repacking it in her precious bag of toiletries. They were her only reminders that somewhere in the world hot water, cream rinse, perfume, bubble bath and hand lotion were still realities.
At last, they all settled down for the night. She slept with Cooper as she had the past two nights. Lying curled on her side, her injured leg the uppermost, she faced the fire. Beneath her was the pallet Cooper had made using the pelts they’d carried with them. He had tactfully declined to use the bedding Quinn had offered them.
Cooper didn’t curve his body around hers as he had been doing. He lay on his back tensely, never completely relaxed, and ever watchful.
“Stop twitching,” she whispered after about half an hour. “What’s your problem?”
“Shut up and go to sleep.”
“Why don’t you?”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“When we get out of here I’ll explain it to you.”
“Explain it to me now.”
“I shouldn’t have to. Read the signs.”
“Does it have anything to do with why you told them we were married?”
“It has everything to do with that.”
She pondered that for a moment. “I’ll admit that they’re kinda spooky, the way they keep staring at us. But I’m sure they’re only curious. Besides, they’re sound asleep now.” The chorus of loud snores should have been his assurance that the Gawrylows were harmlessly asleep.
“Right,” he said dryly, “and so should you be. Nighty-night.”
Exasperated with him, she rolled back onto her side. Eventually she sank into a deep sleep. It was mercilessly short-lived. It seemed only minutes after her eyes closed that Cooper was nudging her awake. She groaned in protest, but remembering that today was the day her ordeal would come to an end, she sat up.
The cabin was still in total darkness, although she could see the shadowy outlines of Cooper and the Gawrylows moving about. Quinn was at the stove brewing coffee and stirring the pot of stew. It must never run out but be continually added to, she thought, hoping that she didn’t return home with a case of ptomaine poisoning.
Cooper knelt beside her. “How do you feel?”
“Cold,” she replied, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Even though she hadn’t slept in his embrace, his body heat had kept her warm throughout the night. He was better than any electric blanket she’d ever slept with.
