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“Take my extra shirt. I washed the mud from it and dried it earlier. You can hang yours to dry for the night.”

Denial stuck in her throat, but she did want rid herself of her sticky shirt. And sleeping in wet clothing held little appeal. “Thank you.”

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His surprise irritated her. Was she so predictable in her disagreeable nature? She stomped to the stream and glanced once over her shoulder. Actually she did trust Brady not to spy on her but wariness was a hard habit to break.

The cold water shocked her with its frigid sting. She washed her shirt out first and then used it to scrub her face, chest and arms. Her fingers did for a comb as she brushed clean water through her hair. All her quickness of hand went to shedding her boots and pants. She scrubbed with held breath and fought the desire to check over her shoulder. Between fear and freezing, it took only moments to sluice water over her shivering body.

Brady’s shirt was larger than she expected. The shoulders touched half way down her arms, and the sleeves hung more than a hand’s length beyond her fingertips. The hem touched midway on her thighs. Was he really so much larger than her? Wearing his shirt stirred a complex mixture of vulnerability and comfort.

She tugged her wet pants back on and cringed at the clammy cotton against her cold skin.

But she had no other choice.

Brady had built up the fire. His gaze flicked over her and then quickly away. “I had some tea already and made more for you.”

His blue eyes glistened darkly in the firelight. He handed her the metal mug and again his gaze darted away from hers.

She settled on the pallet he’d spread beside the fire. He sat not far away on a thick log with his long legs stretched toward the flames. His attention seemed tight on the flames. “I’ll take first watch tonight. You had the longer walk today. All I did was splash around in the waves.”

“And

catch

bugs.”

He looked at her then with a smile. “And catch bugs.”

She used both blankets to settle beside the cozy fire. He moved off into the purple shadows clinging to the underbellies of the trees. But his scent lingered behind and surrounded her. She burrowed her face into the collar of his shirt and took the comfort his small kindness offered.

* * * *

Brady loved sleeping outdoors. The last year spent as the top captain of the Realm Security Forces had been fulfilling and challenging. With the discovery of Parlania the previous year and the opening of a trail linking the university city to the Realm and Solonia, the territory his men had been responsible to protect had stretched them to their limits. He’d taken many warriors into the field who might have been too green, but they’d needed bodies. And his men had performed beyond expectations. Until he was swept over the falls, they suffered no major casualties since freeing Parlania.

The cliffs were a darker black against the star speckled sky. Somewhere out there was a way back home to his life. A life that was sometimes lonely, but always challenging and interesting.

Tomorrow he would help Cara search for a way up the mountain. She was surely as anxious to return home as he was. But what life had she left behind that she so foolishly dove in after him?

In the past, each time he directed the conversation toward anything other than fighting or their warrior duties, she pulled away emotionally and sometimes physically. Never did she allow their words to become personal. Yet, he’d been around enough women to know when one liked his company. He’d once thought Cara wanted to be around him. Damn, she confused him.

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The night was still the cool of spring with a constant breeze off the sea. He walked around to stay warm, avoiding underbrush and fallen branches that might make noise. The falls rumbled constantly and the sea spoke from further away. Small things scuttled among last year’s leave litter, and insects chirped and squeaked as they hunted, fed and were hunted in return. All in all, it was a peaceful night as if he and Cara were the only intelligent creatures in the entire world. And she was a damned difficult woman to spend the rest of his years with if they didn’t find their way out of here.

He wandered further north near the cliff and turned often to see how obvious their fire was. The thick trunks of mature trees hid the small tongues of flame completely after a quarter of a mile. The wind blew in fits and spurts from the sea and rolled against and then up and over the rocky mountain face. There was little chance of anyone scenting the wood smoke by random chance.

It seemed the greatest danger to them might be hunger. He circled wide around their campsite until he was between the fire and the river to their south. The roar of the falls drowned out any of the usual night sounds when he was this close to it. As he’d guessed earlier, it should cover a gun shot. It should be safe to hunt game with no worry of giving them away to unfriendly ears. A little variety of fare to go with the crabs would be welcome. Or bugs, as Cara called them.

Cara. Surely it was inevitable that all his thoughts and ideas came back to her. She’d been pleasant for the most part tonight though he saw it took effort on her part. Perhaps she would find herself easier with his presence with some practice. They might have a lifetime together for her to work on it.

* * * *

Cara held onto the long stick and watched the line for any little jiggle. Even in the relatively still pool where she’d decided to fish, the chaos from the falls stirred the river and shook the bit of crab she used as bait.

Brady impressed her with the various goods he carried in his leather pack. Sewing needles and thread, this bit of sturdy fishing line, two hooks, a little clay bottle of salt and other things he had yet to reveal. She’d heard his revolver not long ago and hoped he’d found something for them to eat other than crab.

They’d spent the previous day exploring north along the cliff but returned to their original camp so he could hunt near the falls. His reasoning made sense. They would fish and hunt on this, their fourth day of exile, cook some game so they could perhaps travel a full day or more without stopping for food.

An uneven jiggle on the line gave away the presence of another catch. She jerked the short line and pulled another fat bass from the cold water. It was her third in only an hour.

The noisy water hid Brady’s approach. Her startlement wasn’t what it should have been.

Was she beginning to feel safe? She must not allow it.

“Good work.” He held two brown-feathered birds in his hand. Each appeared to have been taken with a shot to the head. “I checked the sides of the falls. There’s no way up the sides. But summer will see the floods carry out to sea. We might be able to find a way.”

“That might be a month away.”

He shrugged and then absently rubbed his shoulder. “As a last resort, we might try to cross the river and make our way south.”

“Cross the river?” The Watara was an angry, wide flow that might have been miles wide for the chances of them being able to cross it. “We can’t swim that.”

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“Maybe not. But I was thinking of floating across. Start here and paddle across the current on a diagonal. We should reach the other bank before it carries us out to sea.”

Going back into the killer waters wasn’t something she was brave enough to do. “We’ll find a way to the north.”

She put another bit of crab on the hook rather than look at him though she felt his gaze upon her.

“I’ll go set these over the fire. We should be well set up with the fish and birds for two days of travel. And if we stay near the sea, we can always do more crabbing or surf fishing.”

“I’ll catch one more for tonight’s dinner.”

He left without speaking again. Such had been their conversation for the last two days.

Polite but no more words that what were needed. As she wanted.

The last two nights she’d even slept quite comfortably under his watchful eye as he had under hers. He wouldn’t know how amazing such a small thing was for her. That she might trust any man that much other than Juston Steele was beyond her previous imaginings.

She watched him stride with manly grace into the trees hiding their camp. He pleased her eye as she’d noticed from the first time she saw him. And now, forced into his constant presence, his company pleased her also. She didn’t want it so. They had to find a way up the mountain and soon.

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Cara stood back and alternating keeping watch to the north and observing the man plucking their dinner from the waves. Brady was a much more interesting sight.

He’d shed his boots and rolled his pant legs to his knees. The surf still swirled high enough to dampen his pants as he chased down the scuttling crabs.

Four days now, they’d been traveling north. They still were only a few miles from the falls and had yet to find a path up the cliff. The cataract was still a faint mumble in the background. Exploring every crevasse and tumble of fallen rocks was a tedious and slow process. At this rate they might be at it for months and months.

Brady’s spirits were undimmed and his determination grew each day. He acted as if they were on a great adventure with that curious attitude typical of Realm warriors. The challenge of survival and exploration delighted him to no end.

Even chasing the ugly crabs, he laughed at their antics and his occasional success. The shell that served as their pot already held a half dozen of the creatures. Only her completely empty stomach allowed her to contemplate eating the bugs. Again. They’d finished their smoked fish two days ago and feasted on the game birds before that. They were surviving on one meal a day for the most part, and she felt constantly hungry. Hungry enough to eat crabs.

“Hell’s bastard!” Brady hopped about in the shallows on one foot. An especially, large fat-clawed crab clung to the big toe of his other foot. “Son of a bitch!”

He hopped forward and fell into the dry sand on his behind. “Little hellion is taking his revenge on me for eating his friends.”

“I thought it only a matter of time until they started hunting you.” Her mouth curved of its own accord. Brady’s infectious good mood made each day more difficult for her to keep her distance from him. Damn his charm.

“I’m hardly to blame. If you didn’t eat dozens of the poor things at a time, I wouldn’t have to be so merciless in the hunt.” He grimaced and pried the sharp claws from his toe. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a comic sneer. “I think it’s you they actually want.”

He tossed the wiggling crab at her. She jumped back with a shriek that sent him laughing.

“You idiot.” But her heart lightened and their situation seemed less grim than a moment ago.

He jumped to his feet and snatched up the crab before it could regain the haven of the waves. He plunked it into their cooking shell. “I think I’m going to grow claws myself if I eat one more of these things.”

“We’re not starving.”

He snorted. “You’re as sick of them as I am.”

“We’ve seen no signs of live any bigger than a hare. Maybe you should do some more hunting again tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you’re the one to suggest it.” He raised an eyebrow, but she gave no answer.

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Truth was she did feel oddly secure. It was as if they were the only two people in the world. They’d fallen into an easy pattern of taking turns with watch at night and exploring the cliff-side during the day. Would it be so bad if they never found their way back home? They could build a winter shelter, stock up on food, live as ….

Live as what? Husband and wife? Brady had pulled on his boots while her mind wandered. He strapped on his gun and sword and checked to see the hand pistol was in easy reach.

She picked up the heavy shell with their dinner. The way they’d begun to work together with such ease must have led to her silly daydreaming.

“What the hell?” Brady grabbed her arm and tugged her toward a high rocky formation jutting from the white sands.

Old habit had her digging in her heels for a moment of resistance before her common sense let him lead her to cover.

“What is it?” She set down the shell.

“Look between the two white pines.”

Many of the trees growing at the bottom of the cliff were pine trees. She squinted against the setting sun and saw it. “Smoke.”

The cries of the seagulls suddenly seemed a warning. The tracks they’d made in the sand from the tree-line to the sea marked their presence as clearly as if they’d lit a beacon.

“Looks like a small fire.” His hand rested on his gun. “I hope we don’t have to make a run for it. My damned toe hurts like hell.”

Tension drained from her. Did nothing rattle Brady Gellot? “I’ll cover your backside while you hobble away.”

“Don’t joke with me, woman. You never ran from a fight in your life. Go now or wait for dark?”

“Lots of open ground between here and there.”

“And we’re going to leave tracks in the sand no matter when we go.”

“We don’t have any place to hide or run.” He turned his full attention on her.

She hadn’t realized how close they were as they crouched behind the rock. His eyes were very clear in the bright sunshine and filled with that honest confidence she so admired in the Realm warriors. So admired and wished she had instead of her angry bravado.