Page 11 of Danger In The Backcountry
Lettie didn’t call him out for his noncommittal change of subject. Nor did she ignore his advice, sitting up and pulling her own rations from her pack without a look in his direction.
It felt as though they were on the edge of a cliff, his feet cast over the lip with her standing at his back. One push. That was all it would take to break what was left of them. Or…she could pull him back. Help him fill the hole he’d carved into his own chest by walking out. Part of him wanted that. To fix…this void between them. He wanted things to go back the way they were when they were first married. Those frenzied nights of not being able to keep their hands off each other, the consideration to make sure the other had eaten throughout the day or gotten enough sleep, the glances and inside jokes when out with friends that only they understood in that secret language of couples.
There’d been women in the past few months, mostly rangers intrigued by the fact his literal job was to survive night after night of wilderness and wildlife in some of the most dangerous places on the planet, but he hadn’t felt a connection to any of them. No matter how many times he’d tried to force himself to move on, to take that step to forget his wife, he’d pulled back. Every time. It didn’t make sense. Their marriage was over in every sense of the word, but something… That small part of him couldn’t let go. Not yet. Not when he seemed to be able tobreathe after six months of holding his breath. Just from being around her again.
“Why a van?” Rome regretted the question almost as much as he regretted that time he’d let her convince him to try pickled mushrooms.
Her laugh pierced through some invisible wall constructed between them over the past couple of hours and brought it down in a violent shredding of wills. “I needed a change.”
“You hate change.” How many times had he tried to get her to try a different chicken place than the one closest to their house or to move the potato peeler into the drawer closest to the kitchen sink for easier and faster access?
“Yeah. Well, my husband left me, and suddenly, living in the house we bought together and made memories in for ten years gave me hives.” She tore through a piece of dried mango, one of her favorite snacks he’d made sure to keep stocked in their pantry. Especially when they’d been trying to start their family. Another pulse in that void in his chest rocked through him. If there was one point in their marriage he could identify as the beginning of the end, it’d been sitting in that damn doctor’s office, holding Lettie’s steady hand as the fertility doctor had informed them biological children wouldn’t be possible. No tears. No reaction from her at all. She’d taken the news as any scientist would. Knew crying wouldn’t change the results and suggested ways to change the outcome. None of it had made a difference. And she’d…just accepted it. There hadn’t been talks of adoption or surrogacy. The subject had been explored then closed. Permanently and without regard to what he’d wanted.
“I have to be honest. I almost didn’t recognize you back at the scene. I never thought I’d see you living in the middle of national park.” He stored the pouch of jerky, his throat coated in preservatives that would surely attack tonight with a surge ofacid reflux. “I had to initiate a reward system for you to go hiking with me. Sometimes just to go outside.”
A half-hearted smile broke through the set of her lips. Lettie packed up her food but didn’t move to stand. The slight shake in her hand as she rubbed at her calves told him she’d pushed herself too hard. “It’s challenging. Some days more than others, especially when it comes to rationing water for showers, but you know how much I like a challenge.”
Yeah. He did. And sometimes he wondered if that was what he had been for her, if that was why she’d retreated into her work with no intention of coming up for air. If he’d been nothing but a project for her to fix before focusing that beautiful brain on the next big thing. And he’d liked it. Having her all to himself. Someone who gave a damn, who he could worry about. He caught the slight glaze in her eyes as she continued massaging the muscles in her legs, lost in thought. “I remember. Is that what Sam is for you? A challenge?”
“I think it started that way. The tracking device, getting him to trust me enough to let me close, studying his movements and the ecosystems here in the park.” She folded her heels beneath her thighs. “It gave me purpose. For a while.”
His heart beat hard against his rib cage as Rome tried to read between the exhaustion in her voice and the words coming from her mouth. Tried to shove down the hope splintering through the cracks in that void he couldn’t fill with jobs and women and lying under the stars. “But not anymore?”
Dragging herself to her feet, Lettie hauled her bag over her shoulder with what looked like the last of her energy reserves. “No. Not anymore.”
“What changed?” His mouth dried.
Her gaze locked on him. Just for a moment before she turned away. “Turns out, the only purpose that made me happy walked out the door six months ago.”
Chapter Eleven
She hadn’t meant to admit that.
Lettie snapped her mouth shut. Heat flushed into her face, her breath shallower than a second ago.
Rome hadn’t said a word, didn’t even seem to be able to breathe as she cut off any hope of a response, but there it was. Out in the open. And he just…stood there. As if he’d been just as surprised at her admission as she was.
Her parents would be so disappointed at this weak display of emotions and vulnerability. Embarrassment burned hot and fast, but shame? That held on. Gripped her tighter and tighter with each passing second her ex-husband stared back at her.
Rome took a single step forward. “Lettie—”
“I’m going to expand our search into these woods. It’s possible Sam needed to rest as much as we did and found a cave or burrow to commandeer.” Nope. This had absolutely nothing to do with the black bear she’d pinned her entire career on and everything to do with the man who still made her laugh so easily. Turning on her heels, Lettie spiraled out from the last track she could spot in the cracked red earth and headed west.
She couldn’t handle whatever Rome had been about to say. She couldn’t take another dose of rejection or the final nail in the coffin. Thin twigs snapped beneath her sore heels as she scanned the low bushes hugging the base of several trees. Sam wasn’t small in any regard, probably one of the largest of his kind. If he’d come through here, there would be signs.
She didn’t know exactly where she was going. Only that she had to get away from here, away from Rome. Distance. The last time she’d put distance between them, a black bear had tried to eat her. Her insides curdled with oily embarrassment as she focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Despite the fact Rome Foster had become one of the foremost hunters in the country and for the National Park Service, she’d learned to track and identify signs Sam was in the area. Broken branches, tufts of black hair, claw marks on bark or dig sites.
But the landscape remained untouched by man or animal.
The ground here had become rock-hard this far into winter, and Lettie scrubbed her foot across the ground to clear some of the debris. In vain. If Sam had come through here, he’d done so without so much as leaving evidence. Which meant she’d gone in the wrong direction.
She have to turn back around to get her bearings and make sure she and Rome didn’t get too far separated, but that kernel of shame that’d taken hold had once again contorted into something ugly and wild. Anger. At herself. At him. At whoever had been killing these hikers and the fact that she hadn’t caught the differences between an animal mauling and the kind of violence only capable by humans before now. Her bones felt too big for her body. One wrong step, one wrong thought, and she’d explode right here. No need to chase after Sam. He’d find her and finish the job Rome started all those months ago. A growl worked up her throat before she cut it short. No responding growl in answer this time. She should’ve felt some relief at that, but—
“Lettie.” He’d come after her.
Her shoulders pinched. She closed her eyes, savoring the softness in his voice when he said her name like that. Like the wounds in and around her heart had all been part of somevicious nightmare, and once she woke up, he’d be there. Ready to make the pain go away. To convince her it hadn’t been real.
But Lettie opened her eyes to the winter sun that couldn’t reach her between these trees. This was real. All of it.
