Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,18
Taking care of her basic needs satisfies a deep-seated desire on some primal level. I get some sort of caveman gratification by providing warmth and comfort for her. These elemental instincts are more than likely due to our captive situation. But I’m willing to give her the credit she deserves. Blakely is unlike any woman I’ve met.
I’m two seconds away from pounding my chest while grunting Male make fire and protect woman from harm. The disjointed statement is a chant in my depraved brain. What the hell is wrong with me? As if she wants me pawing at her like an animal.
As if sensing my internal conflict, another breathy sigh escapes her. “This is nice.”
It takes a moment for her words to register. “Yeah?”
“I mean, all things considered. It could be worse.” A single shoulder nudges upward.
“That’s a great attitude to have.”
“Might as well try to look on the bright side. Being optimistic is encouraging.”
Spoken like a certified social worker. She’s a natural mood booster. I scratch over the stubble coating my jaw. “Well, all right then.”
A mutual silence swallows us for a few beats. Blakely settles onto a small scrap of dirt not covered in snow. She glances up at me with a soft grin. The fading sunlight plays off the sharp angles of her cheekbones. Her smile is bright enough to melt the permafrost in Nunavut. I contemplate sitting beside her, but chuck that idea into the dumpster where it belongs. Standing a safe distance apart is best for both of us. Getting swept up by her inviting features is a feeling I’m beginning to recognize.
I don’t deserve to share the same space as her, let alone bask in the goodness she emits. Daring to fantasize about something developing beyond partners in survival is nonsense. Talk about being foolish—I might as well attempt to stitch a hot air balloon and fly us home.
Blakely traces a circle into the slush next to her. “Have you been to Canada before?”
“When I was younger, we’d cross over into Saskatchewan and Manitoba. There’s great hunting and fishing to be had.”
“With your family?”
I widen my stance, attempting to find a comfortable position while her spotlight beams on me. “Yep. My parents and little brother. How about you?”
Her mouth pinches to one side. “I’m from Minnesota, but never made it over the border. My mom isn’t huge on travel. I bet my sisters would love it, though. Where’d you grow up?”
Thinking of Trixton Falls gets a dry chuckle from me. “A tiny town in South Dakota. I left the day after high school graduation. My folks still live there, so I’d visit every now and then.”
“Past tense?”
“There are restrictions for my parole. I’m on a damn short leash. Although”—I gesture around us—“I guess that’s all shot to hell.”
Her face drains of color, taking on an ashen hue. “How could I forget? That’s so insensitive of me.”
A sharp bark rips from my throat. “Never feel bad where I’m concerned. Especially after this.”
“This was no choice of yours. We’re at the mercy of deviant monsters. You have no more control over those deranged sociopaths than I do. I’ll admit to being a tad peeved at you initially. That guilt was misplaced. I don’t blame you anymore,” she murmurs.
“Well, you should.” I wasn’t aware that captivity could be worse than a guarded cage. This is a very different version of lockup, with an innocent woman as my cellmate. I’m the guilty offender dragging her along with me.
Blakely looks ready to slap me with a retort, but presses her lips into a firm line instead. “Do you have an idea where we might be? More specific than the wilderness. I bet large portions of Canada are sprawling woodlands.”
“Since there’s an abundance of trees, I’d guess somewhere in the Northwestern Territories.”
“Are there humans in this part of the country?”
Damn, she’s cute. And clearly needs to brush up on her geography. “Yeah, of course. Some choose to reside in areas far more inhospitable than this.”
Her gaze expands. “On purpose?”
There’s no stopping the laugh from rumbling off my chest. “Very much so.”
“Wow, they’re brave. I don’t mind an adventure, but this is something else entirely. Do you think finding people to help us is a possibility?”
“That’s what I’m banking on. We can build a fire large enough to draw attention.”
“Will that work?”
“I’ve never had to try, but we’ll find out. If we get to an open area with less trees, it’s more likely someone will see the billowing smoke. Then it