Surviving Love (Montana Wilds Book 1) (14 page)

Sara grunted, hand still holding his. He turned his face to show her his victory smile and got a scrunched nose for his efforts.

Mike three—Sara zero. Just like old times.

They passed into the shade of a cluster of trees, the coolness making them both sigh. A few more steps and they beheld the best sight a dehydrated, thirsty wanderer could: a flowing stream.

“Can we drink it now?” Sara asked in desperation, taking a step toward the small ravine.

Mike shook his head as he scanned the area, mind whirling. “The water looks clear, but we’re at least halfway down the mountain. There’s no telling what’s been leaked into the water further up. There’s animal waste to think about, bacteria. No, we need to boil it.” He turned to her. “Let’s find some shelter for the night, get a fire going, and then we’ll be ready for the water. We’ll use whatever daylight we have left to search for some food.”

“No more walking today?” she asked with a sagging body.

He leaned toward her, her feminine aroma competing with sweat and sun-warmed skin. He had no idea it would be such a pleasant elixir.

His hand found the rise of her butt as his face dipped in close, wanting to sample. Ignoring the painful pit of his stomach and the monster headache—all he felt was his pounding erection. He moved closer, inches from her now, his hand falling to her firm butt.

“Hello? I’m dying of thirst,” she reminded him, a crease working into her brow. Heat had seeped into her gaze, though. Hot and eager. Her body leaning in, sexually welcoming his touch. But there was still a glimmer of fear. Of uncertainty.

She wasn’t ready. But she was closer. The waiting continued. For now.

He wiped his mind clean and nodded, back to business. “Let’s get some shelter.”

S
ara waited
while Mike scouted the area, her mind foggy and her stomach aching. She was nauseated from the intense hunger, not to mention the confusion settling over her brain from fatigue. This was all nothing to her dry, cracked lips and desperate yearning for one—just one—drop of water. She couldn’t remember ever being so thirsty in all her life.

Her feet stumbled as she followed Mike down the ravine, her eyes stuck on the flowing water greedily.

“It’s actually a lot deeper than I thought. Hmm.” Mike’s beautiful eyes scanned the bank they were approaching, settling on a fallen log crossing the stream ten paces to the right. He looked back in the direction they’d come.

“Must be our lucky day.” He scanned her shoes before looking back at the log.

As he led her by the hand to his intended crossing, she asked, “Why don’t we just stay on this side? Hang out near a tree or something.”

“I’m hoping the other side has something more to offer in the way of food sources. It can’t be any worse, so the risk is worth it.”

Sara waited as he gracefully stepped up onto the log, his substantial muscles working in perfect harmony. He bounced a couple times with each step, making sure the wood would hold. It didn’t take him long to effortlessly cross, stepping onto the far bank with an expectant expression.

“It’ll hold. Just keep your balance and come on over.”

“Oh sure, no problem.” Sara’s brow furrowed in dazed concentration as she stepped up onto the log. It wobbled, throwing her balance to the right. She stepped back onto the bank, her arms windmilling.

“You can do it, baby,” Mike said earnestly.

“Don’t call me baby—it’s weird,” she said as a shock of butterflies assaulted her stomach. It was also extremely distracting.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, a grin tweaking his lips.

Arms out to the sides, she stepped up again, prepared for the wobble this time. Her body quivered as she kept her balance and stepped out further. The fast-moving stream gurgled below her, rushing under the log in a clear, beautiful gush. Just looking at all that water—that delicious, clear water…

Her tongue seemed to thicken with her pressing thirst, her throat tightening up and all her focus homed in on that water. She was so thirsty. So unbelievably thirsty.

She stepped on the edge of the log—more of a branch, really. No more than the size of her thigh.

“Good job, almost there,” Mike said, reaching out to her.

The warmth in his voice, and the timbre, had her eyes flicking up, always drawing her attention no matter the situation. Unfortunately, the timing was all wrong. She had just stepped with her other foot, halfway across the deep stream. The distraction saw her stepping a little too wide.

Her foot slipped, losing traction and skimming the side of the log, taking her body with her.

“Oh cra—”

She experienced a moment of weightlessness before water slapped her. A blast of cold stabbed her body, so extreme it pushed the air out of her lungs. It felt like needles, pricking her skin. Stinging her face. Thrashing, she cried out, teeth chattering already, flailing for the shore. Mike was there, holding out his hand, alarm etched all over his face.

“Why is it so c-cold?” she asked through clenched teeth as she clawed her way up the bank. “So, s-so c-cold.”

“Snowmelt feeds the streams in the hills and mountains around here. C’mon, we have to get you up the bank and out of those clothes as fast as possible.” He hoisted her out of the water.

Her limbs trembled from the agonizing chill, like knives flaying her flesh and scraping against her bones. It felt like her stomach shriveled up and her heart was seized in a snowman’s hand.

“We have to prevent you from getting hypothermia,” Mike said in a low, steady voice born from years of reacting quickly and confidently to extreme and terrifying circumstances.

This was only her first extreme and terrifying circumstance. She wasn’t nearly as calm.

“Mikey, I’m fu-freezing. Freezing. Oh my God, it’s so c-cold!”

“Hypothermia reduces your core temperature,” Mike said calmly, leading them toward a clearing. “Your vital organs start shutting down, and before you know it, you’re tired, lethargic, you can’t think straight, and you’re making mistakes. You fall flat on your face, pass out, and never wake up.”

“Fa-fascinating,” Sara managed, her body shaking so badly she felt like she was having a seizure.

They stumbled up the bank, Mike taking a fast look around before standing her beside a tree. “Get yourself out of those wet clothes. I have an extra fleece and you can have my pants. I have boxers on, so those’ll be fine until later tonight. I’ll get a fire going and we’ll put your clothes over it to get them dry. Hopefully, by the time the sun goes down, we should be back to basics.”

“God, you’re good at this,” she muttered, her teeth chattering.

Knives stabbed her limbs as she painfully moved her body, trying to get out of her soaked clothes. Mike didn’t waste time helping. With practiced, economic movements, he gathered grasses and small twigs into one neat pile. Beside that, he started another pile for larger logs and branches, unhurriedly scouting the area for fuel for a fire, but always with momentum. That done, and as Sara was shakily removing her pants, he was in front of her, helping her pull down the drenched jeans and whisking them away to a tree branch.

She stood in just her panties for one full second, clutching her arms around her middle. She didn’t care if a whole parade of nuns happened by, she was happier in her bare skin than in those icy clothes.

“Here you go,” Mike said, removing his sweater and undershirt. He only glanced at her bare breasts once before ripping his eyes away and homing in on her face. “Use this sweater. It already has my body heat. I’ll use my spare.”

Those perfectly sculpted pecs made an appearance, leading down into that delicious six-pack. “You’re so h-hot,” she managed, closing her eyes against the searing cold. “You could have any gi-girl you wa-want. Oh my G-God, I hate the c-cold.”

“I only want one, and so far, she’s given me a run for my money.”

“I would make a joke, but I’m t-too cold,” she whined, slipping into his deliciously warm shirt before letting him help her into the even warmer sweater. “Ooooh, this feels so g-good.”

“I know, baby. We’ll get you warm in a jiff.”

Again without hurrying, but doing it faster than most people could in the same situation, he unbuckled his belt and stripped out of his pants, his black boxer briefs now the only thing he was wearing. Clearly he wasn’t worried about nudity.

He’d probably been in worse situations than this way more often than she had.

“I’m swa—swimming in your clothes.” She smiled through numb lips.

“Better than swimming in that stream. Okay, here we go.” His palms worked up and down her arms, rubbing more heat into her limbs. “Let’s just be thankful it’s not winter, huh?”

“Hmm.” She nodded, leaning forward into his arms. She dropped her cheek onto his warm shoulder and curled into his embrace, closing her eyes as he rubbed her back.

“You survived your first freezing water experience. How’d it feel?” His deep voice rumbled in his chest.

“I’m sti—still too cold to talk ab—about it.”

His chuckle vibrated against her ear before he backed her away. His expressive eyes looked down into her, once again pushing past her every defensive layer—not that she had many just now—and tickling her core. A warm hum started in the base of her spine, those beautiful hazel eyes in that handsome face entrancing her.

He winked before moving away, leaving her to hop up and down, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. “Smells like teen spirit in this sweater.”

“Wow,” he said, opening his pack and pulling on the extra fleece. “You just aged yourself.”

“Why? That’s Nirvana. ‘Smells like Teen Spirit’.”

“
I
know who they are, but half the kids that work at the ranch probably don’t.”

“Well, that’s a glaring hole in their music knowledge, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously, yes. Exactly.” He grinned at her, fastening back on his boots. He stood up, motioning for her to put back on her own shoes. Only, hers were still icy cold. She eyed him dubiously.

“We can’t relax yet,” he explained. “I’ll get a fire going so we can boil some water for drinking and dry your clothes. While I do that, you can do a scout to find some of those plants you talked about. Remember, this is about risk and reward. Don’t go too far, don’t do anything stupid, and don’t take all day.”

She threw up a hasty salute. “Yes, sir. My feet are freezing, sir.”

“Very informative. Thanks for keeping me in the loop. Let me know if you lose a toe.”

“I’ll kick you with my toes,” she muttered, grabbing his backpack. To his glance she said, “For when I find dinner.”

He flashed her a grin before sitting down to make a fire. Before she got far, he glanced back up again. “Repeat what I told you about bears, and make sure you have that bear spray handy at all times.”

Sara hesitated, her witty response dying on her lips. It was easy to forget where they were, without safety, when she was hanging out and talking with Mike. They had such easy, fun communication that her mind glossed over the gravity of their situation.

She thought back to the half-day hike getting to this spot when he’d droned on about survival know-how. “Right, okay,” she said, taking the spray out of the pack. “For bears, I want to make lots of noise so that they hear me. Although you say I make plenty, so that’s good. If I see one, I don’t want to run away. That’s very bad. It’ll chase.”

“And then gnaw on you like a chew toy,” Mike said.

“You’re not helping. Um, let’s see. Don’t stare it in the eye. It’ll see that as a challenge. If it stands up on its hind legs, that just means it’s checking me out. Don’t get concerned.”

“Or, in your case, don’t freak out.”

She scrunched her nose up, sending him an evil threat via glare. “I am being serious right now!”

“Yes, you are. And I am lightening the mood so you don’t leave here dripping all kinds of fear and worry and blind your eyes to finding food. Panic and stress don’t belong in a combat situation.”

“I am scouting for food. I hardly think this counts as a combat situation, or why would they give this job to women?”

“You are going out into the wilds with minimal knowledge and pretty much unprotected. They give this task to women because gathering doesn’t need a lot of strength. However, nothing about surviving in the wild is easy and effortless. You need to keep your wits about you, and if you, Sara Michaels, are stressing out, you don’t think logically. A joke or two gets your brain active, and puts you at your best.”

“Oh, stop pretending like you know me. I only just met you a month ago,” she said, fidgeting.

“I’m a fast study. Now get to it, I’m starving.” He bent back to his task.

Sara scowled at him, even though he didn’t notice, and she set out, running through a list of plants and their properties in her head. In her excitement to follow her dream and work a ranch in Montana, she’d learned all she could about the area. While she didn’t think she’d have to survive in the wilderness, she did think she might go camping, and being able to impress new friends with a little knowledge of local plant life seemed like a good idea at the time.

Maybe she could show Mike that she could pull her weight. That she wasn’t as useless as… other men might claim.

She pushed her way through the trees, eyes scouting in the fashion Mike always used. She paid attention to trees and the types of grass on the hill, something she should’ve been doing on the trek here.

When she crested a hill, the trees parted and the vista opened up, beautiful Montana showing off in all its glory. Sloping mountains, lined and dotted with lush green trees, stretched out as far as the eye could see. Another fearsome black shape lumbered along the brown slope in the distance, going about its business without human interference. In the backdrop, the bright blue sky touched down, huge and majestic. People paid for tours and vacations this beautiful. This was it, right here. Living.

Filling her lungs with sweet air, she continued along her path, keeping somewhat near that gurgle so she’d know how to get back. She kept the pace fast to work some heat into her limbs, and snapped on her determination. She would find some food. She would. She could feel it.

M
ike finished rigging
the water-boiling device and set to work on the fish trap. Soon they’d conquer their dehydration, and hopefully, before long, they’d sate their hunger too. He’d seen some ground squirrels here and there on the hike this morning, so before sundown he’d set some snares and hope something wandered in.

Just as he was snapping the last durable branch for the trap, a tickle of apprehension started worming its way into his thoughts at Sara’s prolonged absence. He heard the trampling and stomping that could only be her. A smile broke out on his face as she emerged from the trees on the other side of the clearing, her arms stuffed with a huge bundle of green.

“I found it!” she exclaimed, practically running at him. “I found some stuff to eat. Well, at least one thing. Look!”

Pride and delight lit up her face, joy beaming out of her eyes. Her back was a little straighter; something as simple as knowing, and finding, an edible plant boosting her confidence.

A key component of survival, whether in the wild, or life in general, was morale. Even a small score, like finding an edible plant and bringing it back to feed others, made a person feel useful. Made them feel like they were contributing. In Sara’s case, it let her take one more step toward healing. Just knowing she could do something on her own gave her self-worth; raised her chin just that little bit more.

His heart swelled with pride. She would beat this. She’d move on from that asshole Phil and regain her love of life. He knew she would. She had strength under it all, and just maybe this trip would help her realize that. Maybe her path was supposed to end up out here, surviving, proving to herself that she could do it. That just because “happily ever after” didn’t end up how she’d planned, it didn’t mean her life was over. She could pick herself up, dust herself off, and keep surviving.