Page 35 of Coyote

"You were gone, and I was tired. The bunk was too short. Too many people around me. The shed was quieter."

"You could've waited. You could've left a note or something. When I got there and couldn't find you, I thought something terrible must've happened."

"I know. I'm sorry."

My fingers dug into his ankle. "Don't make me look for you."

"I won't do that again."

"You say it like you understand."

"I woke up with a knife against my throat and my first thought was to wonder whether you knew where I was." His grip tightened at my nape. "I understand."

I turned back and pressed my forehead against his knee.

He gave me a minute before he spoke again. "I need something from you too."

I went still.

"Next time you find a trail in the dark, you don't follow it with one other man and no way for me to know where you went."

"Linc had a radio." I looked up at him.

"And still…" He sighed. "All I'm asking is that you don't disappear and leave me waiting to find out whether you're coming back."

"I didn't want you worrying."

John's mouth pulled tight. "That isn't your choice to make for me."

I flinched. Not because he was wrong. Because he wasn't.

I rose to my knees between his legs. Even like that, I didn't come close to matching his height. I put one hand against the center of his chest.

"If somebody puts hands on you, I'll take them off."

"I know."

I slid my hand up his chest and closed it around the back of his neck. I couldn't span it. Not even close.

"Just promise me you won't go somewhere I can't follow," John said, and he sounded exhausted. "I can't lose…" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I just…don't want to lose anyone else."

"I promise," I said.

John searched my face. Then he nodded. "Come here."

"I'm already here."

"Closer."

I climbed carefully onto the bench beside him. John put one arm around my back and drew me against his chest. I tucked myself beneath his chin, one hand spread over the dressing at his ribs without touching it.

He smelled like well water, cedar, and the last trace of blood I hadn't managed to wash away.

Mine.

He smelled like mine, and that made everything feel better. I let him hold me, his chin on my head, and ran my thumb over the fading bite marks on his arm, wishing they'd stay.

John kissed the top of my head and stood, putting me back on my feet. "Come on, little one. Let's get back before somebody comes looking for us."