Her long sigh cut through the dusk. “All right, but you’d better drive. This is totally out of my league.”
If only he could. He tried to lift his right arm, but sharp pain blazed through his shoulder, a deep, dizzying spasm that burned from his neck to his ribs. Hell. His damned arm was practically useless.
He clenched his jaw and sucked in his breath, willing the ache to subside. He’d always been the strong one, the man who took all the risks. Sure, he relied on his smokejumping bros, but that was part of the job.
But this weakness, this damned dependency…
His stomach balled, and something close to panic rocked his nerves. It was only temporary, for God’s sake. He wasn’t a permanent ground-pounder. He’d be back on the jump list in no time.
But it was still damned hard to admit. He forced his fist to uncurl. “You’ll have to do it. I can’t shift with my shoulder this bad.”
The rushing water filled the stark silence. He felt Jordan’s gaze on him, and his pulse slugged hard through his head, as if he’d just run the PT test. God, he hated being weak.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll try.”
He flicked his gaze to hers, but didn’t see condemnation. The knot slowly eased in his gut.
But then, she’d always had that effect on him. She’d been his oasis, his refuge, offering him the comfort and solace he’d craved.
“Do you want to make that sling now?” she asked.
“Later, after we cross the river. We can take a break on the other side.”
Her eyes searched his. Her delicate brows wrinkled with worry, not for her own safety, but for his. His resentment slipped another notch.
And suddenly, he wanted to move closer, to feel that gentle warmth. To bask in her approval, her acceptance. Her love.
And that was as dangerous as the fire. He couldn’t let down his defenses. This woman had the power to destroy him, just as she’d done before.
He’d barely survived it the first time. He’d spent months enraged, so bitter he could barely sleep. Always doubting, forever questioning, wondering what on earth he’d done wrong. And he’d be damned if he’d suffer through that hell again.
He yanked his mind to the river and stepped back. “We’d better go.” Without waiting for her to answer, he circled the roadblock and strode to the back of the Jeep. Once there, he popped the rear window, picked up the nylon rope and tossed it on top of his PG bag.
A few seconds later, Jordan joined him. And despite his resolve, her soft, feminine scent invaded his space and heightened his senses. Annoyed by his reaction, he stepped away. “You’d better put a bag together,” he told her. “In case we have to bail out midstream.”
He heard her suck in her breath. He didn’t want to scare her, but they had to prepare. “I doubt you’ll need it,” he added.
“I know.” But her hands trembled as she dumped out an athletic bag full of toiletries. She pulled a blanket and clothes from various bags, along with food from the cooler and a plastic bowl. “For the dog,” she explained.
She zipped the bag closed and dropped it on the backseat. The dog raised his head and whined.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “We’re not going to leave you here.”
She meant that, Cade knew. She would risk her own life before she abandoned that dog. Of course, he’d once thought she was that committed to him.
Shoving aside a rush of resentment, he closed the rear window, walked back to the passenger door and climbed in. Pain bolted down his shoulder with the movement. He panted quietly, sucking in fast, shallow breaths until the spasm passed, knowing this wasn’t the time to be weak.
Jordan slid into the driver’s seat and closed her door. She latched her seat belt, and her uncertain gaze met his.
“Ready?” he managed as the pain edged back to an ache.
“I guess so.” Her gaze moved over his chest. “Do you want me to help with your seat belt?”
“No.” He’d rather suffer than have her that close.
“This could get bumpy.”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just go.”
“If you say so.” Looking doubtful, she shoved the Jeep into gear, tightened her grip on the wheel and backed up.
“Try going down by that tree.” He pointed to an alder tree still visible on the bank downstream.
“All right.”
He gritted his teeth as the Jeep bumped over the rocky ground to the bank, which sloped gradually down to the river. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but the headlights cut through the mounting darkness. The water gleamed as it floated past.
Jordan stopped and adjusted her hands on the wheel. Her knuckles shone in the dashboard’s light and she inhaled sharply. “Here goes.”
The Jeep tipped, and she quickly slammed on the brakes, throwing him forward. “I’m sorry!” she gasped as he hit the dashboard.
Pain stabbed his shoulder, and nausea flooded his gut. Stifling a groan, he shoved himself back in his seat. “Keep going.”
She edged up her foot and they rushed ahead, bumped over a rock, then stopped. Feeling dazed, he sucked in his breath. “You’re doing great,” he ground out.
She slanted him a skeptical glance. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind getting whiplash.”
They sped forward again, dropped into a pothole, tipped to the side and jolted out. Struggling for balance, Cade braced his boot against the dashboard.
The Jeep lurched over another rock and stopped abruptly, ramming his knee to his chest. A spasm racked his shoulder and he fought down another groan. Forget whiplash. If she kept this up, he’d pass out before they reached the bottom.
But a few feet later, the bank mercifully flattened, and she let up on the brakes. The Jeep bounced down to the riverbed then stopped with a sudden jerk.
They both exhaled. A second later, her gaze met his. “Stage one. Now to get us through that water.”
Cade’s mouth curved up, and he felt a glimmer of pride, much like he did for his rookies. Despite her inexperience and fear, she’d pulled through.
“Any special route I should take?” she asked.
He turned his attention back to the river. The headlights lit the swirling current but the water beyond that was nearly black. “Not that I can tell. Get closer and we’ll see how it looks.”
“All right.” Small stones and branches crunched under the tires as she drove forward. The Jeep jostled over the uneven ground, but didn’t slip. When they reached the water, she braked.
He peered through the windshield. The water trickled harmlessly along the river’s edges, skirting rocks and splitting into shallow side streams. But yards of dark, unbroken water stretched across the center.
“You think we can cross it?” she asked, her voice tight.
“We’ll find out soon enough.” His gaze met hers and he saw the anxiety crowding her eyes. “Hey.” He lifted his hand to touch her, to stroke away the worry and soothe the rapid drum of her pulse. Then he stopped. She wasn’t his to touch anymore.
He dropped his hand to his knee. “You’ll do fine.”
“Right.” She managed a strained smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and flicked her gaze back to the river. Then she sat up straighter, eased out the clutch and drove in.
Cade stuck his head out the window to watch. The water