the wilderness, she decided.
I’m taking the first plane back to Los Angeles. Somehow, I’ve got to forget this man.
Hank woke up then and groaned.
“You okay?” Carly asked, not moving from his embrace. He sounded as if he were in pain.
“Hell,” he muttered. “What train hit me?”
“What’s wrong?” Carly sat up quickly, jostling Hank in the process.
“Ow, don’t!” He cringed as if she’d run over him with a bulldozer. “Jeez, I’m dying.”
Hank opened his eyes and looked startled to find Carly staring at him. It took a moment for reality to settle in, then he said blankly, “Oh, it’s you.”
The lack of romance in his tone stung her pride. “Maybe you were expecting Pocahontas in this charming teepee?”
Hank sat up cautiously, holding his head as if to keep his wits from swirling around. “Man, that was a rough night, wasn’t it?”
“Are you in pain?”
“Agony,” he corrected. “I think every bone in my body is broken.”
“I think you slept on a rock.”
He rubbed his back. “That explains my ruptured kidney.”
“Can you stand up?”
“No,” he said. “I think I’ll just wait here for the rescue helicopter.”
“Hank—”
“I’m joking,” he soothed. Slowly he raised himself to a sitting position, but Hank didn’t look any healthier than he had a few moments ago. His face showed a liberal growth of beard, gray circles under his bleary blue eyes and distinct grooves that ran from his nose to the corners of his mouth.
Carly couldn’t hold back a grin. “Boy, you look a little worse for wear. What happened? Did a prairie dog beat you up during the night?”
“I’m not the only one looking less than perfect.”
Carly’s spine snapped straight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just—oh, nothing. Sorry.”
Steaming, Carly let herself out of the tent and into the feeble rays of early sunshine. Her sneakers squished in the soft ground as she walked away from the tent, smoothing her hair and pinching her cheeks to bring back their color.
“Hey, wait,” Hank called, gingerly pulling himself out of the tent. “Carly!”
“I’m going to wash my face,” she snapped. “Apparently, I need it.”
“I didn’t mean anything by—ow, dammit!”
Hank continued to curse as he tried climbing to his feet, joints and bones making little cracking noises, but Carly stalked away from him, thoroughly annoyed.
“Okay, so I don’t look like Cleopatra this morning,” she muttered, putting a hundred yards between them. “Did he have to point it out?”
Of course, nothing had stopped Carly from making the observation that Hank hadn’t exactly been his most attractive.
She knelt at the edge of the muddy, storm-swollen stream and swished her hands in the cold water. The shock of the cold made her fingers ache in seconds. Looking at her hands, Carly moaned. “Brother, do I need a manicure! Probably a facial, too.”
She rubbed her face and found it rough and sunburned. With a little water, she tried smoothing her hair into place. But it was probably a lost cause.
A noise made Carly look up from her ablutions, and she found herself staring into the slanted green eyes of Baby, the pup. Two yards away, the animal was crouched behind a rock and peeking at her.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she cooed, holding out her fingers to the pup. “Want to be friends again?”
The pup was shy this morning, but not as hostile as she had been the night before. With some coaxing, Carly managed to catch the wolf and hug it tightly against her chest. She returned to their pathetic campsite with the pup in her arms.
“Oh, no,” groaned Hank, looking up from the sodden remains of their fire. “You found it again.”
“Of course I did. She’s too young to be on her own out here. She needs us.”
Hank seemed on the brink of arguing, but they were interrupted at that moment by the sounds of approaching horses. Climbing onto the highest nearby rock, Hank waved and
I’m taking the first plane back to Los Angeles. Somehow, I’ve got to forget this man.
Hank woke up then and groaned.
“You okay?” Carly asked, not moving from his embrace. He sounded as if he were in pain.
“Hell,” he muttered. “What train hit me?”
“What’s wrong?” Carly sat up quickly, jostling Hank in the process.
“Ow, don’t!” He cringed as if she’d run over him with a bulldozer. “Jeez, I’m dying.”
Hank opened his eyes and looked startled to find Carly staring at him. It took a moment for reality to settle in, then he said blankly, “Oh, it’s you.”
The lack of romance in his tone stung her pride. “Maybe you were expecting Pocahontas in this charming teepee?”
Hank sat up cautiously, holding his head as if to keep his wits from swirling around. “Man, that was a rough night, wasn’t it?”
“Are you in pain?”
“Agony,” he corrected. “I think every bone in my body is broken.”
“I think you slept on a rock.”
He rubbed his back. “That explains my ruptured kidney.”
“Can you stand up?”
“No,” he said. “I think I’ll just wait here for the rescue helicopter.”
“Hank—”
“I’m joking,” he soothed. Slowly he raised himself to a sitting position, but Hank didn’t look any healthier than he had a few moments ago. His face showed a liberal growth of beard, gray circles under his bleary blue eyes and distinct grooves that ran from his nose to the corners of his mouth.
Carly couldn’t hold back a grin. “Boy, you look a little worse for wear. What happened? Did a prairie dog beat you up during the night?”
“I’m not the only one looking less than perfect.”
Carly’s spine snapped straight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just—oh, nothing. Sorry.”
Steaming, Carly let herself out of the tent and into the feeble rays of early sunshine. Her sneakers squished in the soft ground as she walked away from the tent, smoothing her hair and pinching her cheeks to bring back their color.
“Hey, wait,” Hank called, gingerly pulling himself out of the tent. “Carly!”
“I’m going to wash my face,” she snapped. “Apparently, I need it.”
“I didn’t mean anything by—ow, dammit!”
Hank continued to curse as he tried climbing to his feet, joints and bones making little cracking noises, but Carly stalked away from him, thoroughly annoyed.
“Okay, so I don’t look like Cleopatra this morning,” she muttered, putting a hundred yards between them. “Did he have to point it out?”
Of course, nothing had stopped Carly from making the observation that Hank hadn’t exactly been his most attractive.
She knelt at the edge of the muddy, storm-swollen stream and swished her hands in the cold water. The shock of the cold made her fingers ache in seconds. Looking at her hands, Carly moaned. “Brother, do I need a manicure! Probably a facial, too.”
She rubbed her face and found it rough and sunburned. With a little water, she tried smoothing her hair into place. But it was probably a lost cause.
A noise made Carly look up from her ablutions, and she found herself staring into the slanted green eyes of Baby, the pup. Two yards away, the animal was crouched behind a rock and peeking at her.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she cooed, holding out her fingers to the pup. “Want to be friends again?”
The pup was shy this morning, but not as hostile as she had been the night before. With some coaxing, Carly managed to catch the wolf and hug it tightly against her chest. She returned to their pathetic campsite with the pup in her arms.
“Oh, no,” groaned Hank, looking up from the sodden remains of their fire. “You found it again.”
“Of course I did. She’s too young to be on her own out here. She needs us.”
Hank seemed on the brink of arguing, but they were interrupted at that moment by the sounds of approaching horses. Climbing onto the highest nearby rock, Hank waved and
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