by Bella Blake
I keep coming back to one thought, despite their words earlier when my injury was brand new. They should leave me here. This isn’t a bad place to make camp and wait it out. I’m out of the hot spots, I have water, and it’s an easy location to find again by helicopter or foot rescue—just follow the river.
They’re stronger, more skilled, they have more endurance and experience. They can make it out faster by themselves and send a rescue crew back for me. It’s the smartest thing, really, and I know they know it, too, despite their chivalrous insistence of hauling me along.
They can leave me a water bottle, a pack of food, and a water filter. I can put on all of my clothes to stay warm and let them take the blanket. If I’m careful, I can stretch the food out, cooking only a handful at a time—it’s not like I’m going to be moving far and needing many calories.
A sense of determination builds inside me as I pick up the filter and continue filling the bottle with purified river water.
I’m going to have to fight them over it.
They’re too noble to agree to leave me behind, but dammit, it’s the right thing to do. I can make them see the logic, though. Maybe Chase would be more willing to listen, since he’s already carried me so far today and knows firsthand the burden that’s caused.
The sound of pounding footfalls over the rocks grabs my attention, and out of the corner of my eye I notice Hugh standing up and turning toward the noise. We both look toward the bend where I last saw Chase, and he reappears moments later.
He’s running back to us, his legs pumping as though he’s being chased by the devil.
I freeze for a moment, a tendril of concern threading inside me, until I see the excited look on his face as he draws closer. A flare of unexpected hope grips my chest, even as my heart lurches into my throat.
“Holy shit, you guys,” he says coming to a stop, panting heavily and bracing his hands on his knees. “I found a fishing hut. But more amazingly—a fucking canoe in decent shape. We can get out of here.”
14
CHASE
Around a bend in the river, my eyes land on something promising.
Relief pools in my stomach, swirling inside me with a soothing calmness, just like the water lazily circling in the eddy beside the fishing hut. I jog toward the small structure to give it a thorough inspection.
The hut is exactly that—four walls and a flat roof, its door long gone if there ever was one. The sides are stripped of any stain, the wood now the faded weather-worn grey that all structures eventually succumb to after being exposed to the unforgiving elements.
It’s nothing like the cabin I’d planned to take Megan to at the beginning of this adventure, but hell, that cabin is probably a pile of ash now. This hut is even more dilapidated than the old fire watch tower, and definitely much smaller, but it’s still a welcome haven after the hike we did today.
I run back to share the discovery with Hugh and Megan, who are both just as ecstatic at the news as I am.
After packing up in record speed, my brother scoops Megan up while I grab our bags and lead the way to our home for the night.
“Oooh, yes. This will be much better than sleeping outside,” she says as we approach the hut, twisting to look over her shoulder, from where she’s cradled against Hugh’s chest.
One hand is clutching her hiking boot, and the other is wrapped around my twin’s neck as he carries her. My pace slows as I fixate on the two of them.
She looks like a stolen beauty that we’ve claimed as our wilderness bride, and now we’re taking her to our ramshackle wedding night retreat. My heart lurches at the thought.
“What?” I hear Hugh mutter behind me with a surprised grunt as I squeeze into the hut.
I have to duck my head since the building is so squat, but rather than being annoyed I’m glad—it’s much easier to keep a shorter, smaller room warm. My brother’s expression is one of vexation as he sets Megan down in the doorway, holding onto her arm to help her balance on her good foot.
His brow is furrowed. “I… I thought sleeping under the stars is romantic?”
The obvious confusion in his voice makes me grin, as though Hugh is second-guessing everything he thought he knew about women and romance.
“Maybe when we have proper sleeping bags,” I interject before Megan can answer. “Hard to be romantic when you’re freezing your balls off.”
I stow our bags in the corner and do another quick sweep of the place. It’s mostly spider free, from what I can tell—but in my book, spiders are nothing compared to outrunning a wildfire.
“Exactly. Only, you know, other body parts for me,” Megan says with a smile as she settles down on the floor next to our packs and pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Speaking of freezing… how well would our little camp stove work as a heater?”
I notice Megan struggling to stretch her leg out and I want to smack myself upside the forehead for not helping her sooner. I jump into action and shift one of the packs in front of her, then help raise her calf up until her foot is elevated.
“How’s it feel?” I ask her.
Her ankle is marbled with deep purples and tender red patches that run down to the top of her foot, so it’s pretty easy to take an educated guess about how it’s feeling. The soak in the river seems to have brought the swelling down some, and hopefully the ibuprofen has started to kick in, but she needs more. I wish I had something that could hit the pain harder, but until we can get her to a doctor, this has to do.
Megan notices me frowning at her bruises. “I just drew those on there with markers when you weren’t looking. I’m a sucker for sympathy,” she jests.
I squint at her, trying to hold back the grin I feel. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll just wipe right off.”
“Okay, fine. Would you believe me if I said it hurts like a bitch?” Megan says with an exasperated chuckle, and that makes both of us laugh loudly, snickering together in the corner of the hut.
Her attitude is amazing. Where others would be depressed and terrified about being injured in this situation, she’s laughing—and making me laugh, too. I kiss her, unable to do anything else.
“What was that for?” she asks softly when I pull back.
I run my thumbs over her cheeks, gazing at her in awe. “For being you. For being awesome.”
“Oh,” she says, the word a tiny sigh of breath as she stares into my eyes.
I kiss her again, cupping her cheeks with my hands as I brush my lips against hers, holding her to me.
“Seriously,” I tell her when I draw back to meet her gaze. “We’re in the worst situation, and you’re making jokes. It’s impossible to resist your charm. You’re basically making me fall in love with you.”
The moment I say the words, the earth falls out from underneath me and I’m spinning in a dizzy free fall. I drop my eyes to the floor as my chest locks up and my stomach turns to ice. My mind is whirling with a million thoughts at once, but I can’t focus on any of them because the blood in my veins is pumping hard and furious in time with the pounding of my heart.
I can’t take the words back.
They’re out there now, and I’m terrified they’ll make her pull away.
Drawing a deep breath, I try to steady my nerves, and realize that even if I could erase the words from existence, I wouldn’t. If this crazy, unpredictable experience has taught me anything, it’s that time is precious, and I don’t know what might happen next.
So, it’s best to just be honest and lay my cards out on the table.
I chew on my lip for a moment and raise my gaze, drinking in her beautiful features once again. “I think I’m already halfway there, anyway,” I confess.
Her mouth is parted in surprise, her eyes wide, and she darts a glance over to Hugh. Whether she’s checking if he’s paying attention to our private moment, or hoping he’ll come save her from an awkward moment, I’m not sure.
I spoke the truth, but goddammit, I might have just jumped the gun way too soo
n. I could have kept my thoughts to myself a while longer—until we’re out of danger, at least. The panic that grabs my heart at her deer-in-the-headlights expression is more frantic than when I woke up in the middle of the night to see the entire forest on fire.
I bolt up from my kneeled position, barely remembering to duck at the last moment to avoid braining myself on the rickety ceiling beams. My mouth is dry, my throat is constricted, and my heart is doing its best to take off like a 747.
What the fuck? I’ve come face to face with angry bears, narrowly escaped falling off cliffs, and had some damn close calls with snakes—none of which made my fucking chest feel like it’s about to explode.
Jerking a thumb over my shoulder, I motion toward the doorway as I back away. “I’m just gonna go do… I’ll be—” I don’t finish before I turn and stride out of the hut, squeezing past my twin, whom I’m certain will never let me live this shit down.
As soon as I’m outside, I haul ass to the edge of the river and walk along the bank, heading back toward the wide, sandy beach we first stopped at. It takes everything I’ve got not to hit the ground in a dead sprint, to put the hut, Megan, and Hugh behind me and get as much distance as possible between me and the clusterfuck I just created.
I want to dismiss the feelings churning inside me, to find a way to go back in there and laugh it off as an absurd moment of exhaustion or stress. To say that all of this is just a temporary infatuation brought on by our situation.
Emotions are heightened during a crisis, and I know that it’s natural to feel things more strongly in the midst of this type of extreme environment. But I also know in my gut this is different. It’s not from being sleep deprived, physically tired, or mentally taxed. It isn’t just an infatuation, either.
Deep inside, where instinct and truth have a firm hold on reality, I know that even if I’d met Megan in a coffee shop in the middle of downtown, she would still make me feel the same intense emotions I’m wrestling with now.
This longing, this need for her—it’s ridiculously sudden and painfully raw and utterly real, all at the same time.
I want to wake up in the morning and start the day by showering her with kisses before we sip coffee together and watch the sun rise. I want to go to her favorite brunch spot and enjoy a delicious meal while she tells me all about the latest book she’s reading. I want to be there to pour her a glass of wine after a particularly trying day. I want to be there to offer a back rub, or even just let her curl up next to me on the couch with a mindless sitcom playing on the TV.
I draw to a stop and shove my hands in my pockets as I look out across the river. My eyes trace the dark ripples of water flowing downstream, but my mind is focused completely on Megan.
I told her I was halfway in love with her, but the truth is, I’m definitely, completely, all the way in love with her.
“There you are.”
My brother’s deep voice reaches my ears and I draw in a breath, my muscles tensing. Hugh comes up next to me, his arms crossed as he looks out over the river with me.
For all the shit we give each other, Hugh’s always been my best friend—the one who knows me better than myself sometimes.
But I don’t think either of us are ready for this conversation.
He bends down and snaps off a blade of tall grass from the river bank and inspects it for a moment before peeling a long, slender piece off one side. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, knowing he’s working up to asking me the question I don’t want to answer. He’s always needed something to do with his hands when things are tense.
“What happened back there?” he finally asks.
I scrub my face with my palms, grinding my teeth. The only reply I have for him is a question of my own. A bigger question that strikes right at the heart of this mess. The one I’ve been avoiding thinking too hard about.
“What the fuck are we doing, Hugh—screwing around with the same woman?” I keep my voice low, as there’s no need to clue Megan into the fact that I’m five minutes away from a breakdown, but the words come out angrier than I meant them to.
Hell, maybe I am angry.
Not at Hugh or anyone else but myself, for letting it get to this point. It’s not like I saw this coming, though. I’ve never fallen for a woman this fast or hard before. There’s no fucking road map on how to navigate through this, especially not when it’s three sets of feelings to consider.
I’m pretty sure my brother’s heart is just as tangled up in her as mine is.
Hugh doesn’t respond right away, he just purses his lips, letting his gaze move slowly across the water as he absentmindedly peels off another piece of grass from the long blade.
I take the time to steady my breathing, battling to rein in the emotions gripping my chest. Now isn’t the time or place to get into this. I can’t unpack all these feelings tonight, not when we’ve finally stumbled into some luck—water, a shelter to sleep in, and a way out of here with the canoe.
By my guess, we’re fifty miles from where the river crosses under Tilman Bridge, the first sign of civilization after a long stretch of back country wilderness.
Which means at least a full twenty-four hours on the water, most likely more.
I’m not familiar with this stretch, but I know White Snake River isn’t popular with white water rafters, so I’m hoping that means there aren’t too many rapids and we’ll have a smooth float out to safety.
“Everything about the last few days has been…” Hugh trails off as he struggles to find the words. He throws up his hands with a shrug, looking as lost as I feel.
“Intense?” I suggest.
He nods. “That’s one word for it. It’s so different. It’s like everything we knew to be true about how things work was burned up in the wildfire, and we’re in uncharted territory now.”
“It certainly feels like we’re living in another world, at least in my head,” I tell him with a nod of agreement. A world where a woman could share her heart equally with two men. A fantasy land, really. That’s where I’ve been living.
As though he knows exactly what I’m thinking, he says, “You know, when you told her that you’re half in love with her, you may as well have been speaking for me, too.”
“You heard that, did you?” I let out a quiet sardonic laugh, more breath than sound, and shake my head ruefully. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”
Hugh lays his arm over my shoulder, tugging me close to him. “Yeah, maybe,” he answers somberly.
We both stare out at the river for a while, neither of us speaking, both of us contemplating the complicated mess we’ve landed in. Then my twin tosses his blade of grass down and puts some space between us before squeezing his hand on my shoulder to grab my attention.
I turn to look at him and see both hope and determination etched on his face.
“Since we’re in uncharted territory here in this brave new world, we can make our own rules,” he declares. His eyes bore into mine as though he’s searching for the resolute solidarity that underpins our brotherhood, the steadfast unity that’s carried us through some of the worst times of our lives.
I level my gaze with his. “So what rules are we making, exactly?”
His hand doesn’t stray from the tight grip he has on my shoulder as he answers. “That we’re allowed to be in love with the same woman.”
“How the fuck’s that going to work?” It comes out with a scoff of disbelief and a tone of frustration, but in my heart of hearts, I really want to know. Is it even possible, or are we just kidding ourselves?
He shrugs. “I have no damned idea, to be honest. But we’ll figure it out, somehow. Just like we’ve figured out every other curveball life’s thrown at us. Since when have either of us ever backed down from a challenge?”
“And if she only wants one of us?” I counter. “That’s a curveball we can’t control, brother.”
I’m playing the devil’s advocate, but my stomach clenches at the thought. A strange realization hits me
as the idea twists like a knife in my chest, because even though I’ll be gutted if she only wants my brother, the idea that she might only want me makes me similarly uneasy.
Whatever this is, it has to be something that includes all three of us.
Otherwise it wouldn’t be right.
“The only way we will know is if we ask her,” he answers stoically, more composed than I’ve managed to be this evening. “And out here, talk is just talk. All the hot sex and sweet gestures in the world won’t change anything if, once we get out of here, we can’t find the courage to ask her.”
I elbow him in the side, and he lets go of me with an affronted yelp. “Is there something in the water? When did you get all this wisdom and shit?”
He grunts with a cocky smile. “Sucks for you, doesn’t it? The first born got the looks and the brains.”
I lift an eyebrow and give him a smirk. “Keep telling yourself that, Einstein. Truth is, wisdom comes with age, so all this does is confirm you’re an old man now.”
“Oh yeah? Then you need to get the hell off my lawn, young whippersnapper, and leave the lady to me, since I’m clearly older, wiser, and better looking.”
The laugh he pulls from me is exactly what I need. “Shut the fuck up before I push you in the damn river.”
“If I go in, you’re going with me,” he says with a wide grin, bobbing around like he’s about to wrestle me into the water.
I give him a brotherly shove, then take a deep breath before inclining my head back towards the hut. “We should probably head back. Megan will think we’ve been eaten by bears.”
“You go ahead,” Hugh says. “I’ll be along in a bit.”
I stare in the direction of the fishing hut for a moment, then turn to Hugh. “Uh… I think it’d go over better if we went back together.”
It’s my twin’s turn to smirk. “You scared of facing Megan? You know, for someone who can survive in the woods for weeks with nothing but a paperclip in your pocket, you sure are a—”
