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The ground was relatively flat and free from branches and rocks. He moved them to the ground, putting them closer to the fire. Lying down, he coaxed her to rest her head on his arm that circled her shoulders. It would put his arm to sleep but would be more comfortable for her than the ground. She was stiff at first, moving her head to a more comfortable position that didn’t press on where she’d been injured, then relaxed with a deep sigh.
“We’d be dead if you hadn’t taken control of the plane,” she said after a while.
“Yes.” No sense sugar-coating it.
There was silence for a while as Blane looked into the flames. The warmth was enough to keep the chill at bay, and also provide a deterrent to any animals. He could smell the slightly floral scent of her perfume. He wondered when she’d put it on. Was it a habit, like brushing her hair?
“We’ll go tomorrow to the plane and salvage what we can,” he said. “If it isn’t on fire by now, it should be safe enough.”
After a moment, she responded. “I have a backpack. I brought things which will be useful.”
Blane didn’t question her. Anne’s voice was small and thready, and her body felt much too fragile next to his. After a moment, he curved his other arm around her waist and dragged her closer.
She’d been told he was the mastermind behind her brother’s death. Her quest was one of justice, which was honorable, even if she’d been misinformed. And why would she have doubted the head of the DOJ? Now that she’d talked about what her brother had been investigating, a memory stirred. Kade had said something about this months ago. Blane struggled to remember. At the time, he’d dismissed it. There was always someone after him for something or other. It was politics.
But the memory wouldn’t come. He was exhausted from the surges of adrenaline today and no doubt the aftereffects of whatever they drugged him with. Anne had already fallen into a fitful sleep, her breathing even, but her body twitching with whatever she was dreaming.
Blane closed his eyes, his nose buried in Anne’s sweet-smelling hair, and told his body to sleep. It obeyed.
Chapter Eleven
Morning came abruptly. With a bear.
Blane’s eyes opened and he saw the black bear only feet from them. It was investigating the fire, now just smoldering embers. Blane held very still. They didn’t have any food and if they didn’t do anything to provoke it, it should move on.
It wandered closer, nose snuffling the ground. It wasn’t large. Still a youth, Blane assumed. When it was about mere feet away, Anne woke with a start. In a flash, Blane had covered her mouth with his hand.
“Don’t move,” he hissed into her ear, barely moving his lips. His eyes were on the bear. “Stay quiet.”
Anne gave a tiny nod, and he slowly removed his hand.
They lay there, silently watching as the bear sniffed Blane’s boots. He worried that the blood still on Anne would be a problem. And it did pause, sniffing the air, when it got closer to her. Blane slowly moved his arm up until it covered the dried blood on her chin and neck. He could feel Anne’s panic. Her breath was fast enough to cause her to hyperventilate, and she shook from head to toe.
Then, as if suddenly deciding it was done, the bear turned and shuffled away. They didn’t move as it wandered away into the trees and finally disappeared. Anne made as if to move, but Blane stilled her.
“Give him a few more minutes,” he whispered. He thought he could still vaguely hear it.
They were still for another agonizing five minutes. Nearly all of Blane was wrapped around Anne, shielding her. Her shaking had gradually subsided. At last, he relaxed his hold on her and sat up. She did, too, hurriedly brushing away tears from her cheeks. She didn’t look at him.
“I’m going to go back to the plane and see what I can find,” he said. He didn’t think she was in any condition for another trek that wouldn’t get them further out of here.
“I’ll come, too,” she said though. “I just…um…need a private moment.” Her face was bright red.
Seriously? He’d done things to her that had made her legs wrap around his head, but she was embarrassed about needing to take a piss in front of him? Or pee. Urinate. Whatever. Women. He’d never understand them. Still…
“Okay. Just go that way.” He pointed in the opposite direction from where the bear had gone. “But not far. I’ll wait here.” He had to take a leak, too. Two birds and all that.
Blane didn’t realize it was possible, but she blushed even redder before nodding and gingerly picking her way through the trees. She stopped when she was out of sight, but he could still hear her moving. If she cried out, he could pinpoint where she was.
He took care of business and so did she, returning after a few minutes, still blushing a little. He didn’t say anything, just began leading the way back to the plane.
Keeping a moderate pace out of deference to Anne, they reached the plane without incident or any more bear encounters. Blane surveyed the wreckage, thinking of the best way to approach it.
It had landed at a forty-five degree angle, propped against some trees that had taken the hit and showed it who was boss. They looked none the worse for wear and, Blane fancied, a little put out at the encroachment of civilization into their midst.
“You stay here,” he told Anne. “It doesn’t look very stable.”
“I can help,” she protested.
