In This Together. Kara Lennox

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СКАЧАТЬ probably had a lunchbox with some Disney princess on it. He smiled at the thought. “Want to try it?”

      “Sure. Might as well broaden my horizons.”

      When he presented her with the can of chili, like a waiter at a four-star restaurant presenting a sirloin steak, she took the spoon and helped herself to a hefty bite.

      “So, you never eat canned food?” Though Travis knew how to cook, these days he seldom bothered with anything more elaborate than a can of soup or tuna fish.

      “Daniel doesn’t allow canned food in his house. Everything is made fresh. And my mother cooks everything from scratch.”

      “Something about being out in the woods makes even canned stuff taste better. When you’re hiking or canoeing, a peanut butter sandwich can be ecstasy.”

      She was staring at him. He turned away from her self-consciously.

      “You’re very handsome when you smile. You should do it more often.”

      “Don’t have much to smile about lately. You about done with that?”

      “Oh, yeah. I forgot for a moment that I’m hogging the only spoon.” She handed the utensil back to him. Now that her hunger was satisfied, she might have more incentive to threaten him with the knife, so he was relieved she didn’t try anything.

      Elena surrendered her spot next to the rock, and Travis took it over. The ground was still warm where her bottom had rested, and he enjoyed the sensation, the secondhand contact with such an attractive part of her body.

      Wow, he was obviously hard up.

      He finished up the chili and the beans and set the cans aside. There was no trash bag, but he would carry the trash out when they left. Just because he was a desperate felon was no reason to litter.

      “You want dessert? The canned pumpkin might be tasty. Or I have some granola bars.”

      “No, thanks. I’m full. I have to, um, use the bathroom.”

      He’d been dreading this moment. Once out of his sight, she could run. It might seem the smart thing to do, from her angle. But they were a long way from help. She might find her way to the road in the dark, but he would catch up to her if she did that. And if she went deeper into the woods she might elude him, but she risked wandering all night and becoming hopelessly lost. With no jacket, no proper shoes and no water, she could come to harm.

      But what else could he do? He wasn’t going to stand over her while she peed behind a bush. The situation would be humiliating for both of them, and her friendly, cooperative mood would come to an abrupt end.

      “Don’t go far.”

      “Can I take the flashlight?”

      “Nope.”

      “Great. You better hope a snake doesn’t get me.”

      “Snakes are hibernating this time of year.”

      With a backward malevolent glance at him, she stalked off into the darkness. Travis took a couple of bites of the pumpkin, but it had a chemical aftertaste—too many preservatives, or maybe it simply tasted of the can. He listened to the sounds of the woods at night. It was peaceful here, just him and Elena and the crickets.

      And the coyotes. A long, mournful cry drifted on the night breeze—a coyote seeking its mate. Soon another cry joined the first, then a third. They weren’t too far off; maybe a mile.

      Elena hurried back to the campsite, her feet crunching noisily in the leaves. “What is that?”

      “Uh, coyote?”

      “It’s enough to chill my blood.” She looked around fearfully, as if carnivorous monsters might appear from any direction at any minute. “They sound close.”

      He opened his mouth to reassure her that they were safe, that the coyotes were just calling to each other and wouldn’t bother them. Humans were far too big to be prey for a small critter like a coyote unless the animals were really desperate.

      But then he realized he could use her fear and ignorance of the woods to his advantage. If she was afraid of coyotes, she was less likely to wander off in the night and try to escape.

      He looked around, feigning worry. “They are close. And they sound hungry. They howl like that when they’re hungry.”

      “Do you have a gun?”

      “A gun? No. Why would you even think that?”

      “Well, you’re a kidnapper. I just thought you might have a gun.”

      “No. But they won’t bother us so long as we keep the fire burning. Coyotes are afraid of...wood smoke.”

      Elena scurried back into the clearing, standing close to the fire. “Do we have lots of firewood? Should we collect more?”

      Travis eyed the meager pile of deadwood he’d collected, most of which had been lying around within twenty or thirty feet of their campsite. He’d been planning to let the fire die down; it wasn’t so cold that they really needed the warmth. But after the whopping lies he’d just told, he was going to have to keep it burning. Well, he hadn’t intended to sleep much tonight anyway.

      “I’ll go get more.”

      She picked up one of the smaller logs and held it, club fashion. “Don’t go far. If I see anything move, I’ll scream.”

      Now he felt a little bit guilty for making her so afraid. She hadn’t shown that much fear toward him, and he had the capacity to do her a lot more harm than a scrawny coyote.

      Travis spent about ten minutes collecting more wood, occasionally checking on Elena to make sure she wasn’t pulling another fast one, using the distraction of the coyotes to get him out of the way so she could make a break for it. Then he moved the tarp to the ground closer to the fire and spread the sleeping bag on it again. “You can sleep here. It’s not the Ritz, and you’re probably used to a feather bed and silk comforter at Logan’s house, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

      She shrugged. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

      “Really? When?”

      She sat cross-legged on the sleeping bag and pulled one end of it around her shoulders for warmth. “How about in the bottom of a leaky dinghy?”

      Yes, that sounded worse. “When did you—”

      “Never mind. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s something I don’t think about often, let alone talk about.”

      Now he was consumed with curiosity. She’d dropped a few hints that she hadn’t always lived a privileged existence, but now he wondered how bad it had been.

      “Elena, how did you learn to pick pockets?”

      “It’s a gift.”

      A pat answer. “So, you don’t want to talk about that, either?”

      She СКАЧАТЬ