“Oh.” Why did his rejection hit her as if he’d turned down her invite to a Sadie Hawkins dance? “Sure. I understand.”
But she didn’t.
Worse yet, it wasn’t so much his rejection that had her super confused, but her silly reaction. For a woman who literally knew only two people in the world, to have one dismiss her stung.
* * *
GIDEON WOULD HAVE enjoyed nothing more than stretching out in his sleeping bag in Jane’s toasty tent. The night had turned breezy, and his fingers and nose felt cold enough to snap off. Just what he needed: to also be missing his nose. That’d be a big hit with the ladies.
Suddenly mad at the world, his ex, Missy, and most of all himself, Gideon kicked dirt into the fire.
Nights were always tough.
Jane’s incessant babbling and questions weren’t making this particular night any easier.
How long had it been since he’d shared a meal?
The part of their time when they’d exchanged small talk about favorite old movies had actually been pleasant. He would have never pegged her for an old-school sci-fi fan. Maybe once they got back to his cabin, he’d make popcorn. The two of them—make that three—could settle in for a movie marathon.
Stop.
He pressed the heels of his hands over his stinging eyes.
For the sake of argument, even if he was interested in hooking up, perky Jane was hardly his type. He was willing to bet that somewhere out there she had a husband desperately searching for her and their son.
Gideon would be wise to adopt his usual protector role, get her and her son safely delivered back to her family, then wash his hands of the whole situation.
In fact, as well as Jane had already recovered from giving birth, he figured Jelly Bean needed him more than she did.
“Gideon?” she called from the tent.
“Yeah?”
“What was that noise?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Listen! It’s like a snort, then I heard a twig snapping. Maybe even a growl.”
Gideon heard nothing but the occasional owl and wind high in the pines.
“Could you please stay in here with us? Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll get a wink of sleep.”
It was her second time using the phrase. Had it occurred to her that if she stopped winking long enough to close her mouth and eyes that sleep might come? Shaking his head, Gideon banked the fire, then snatched up his sleeping bag. If Jane wanted him to stretch out alongside her, rather than spending his night upright on a log, who was he to argue?
Hours later, Gideon woke to golden sun warming his face.
Even better? The mesmerizing sight of Jane breastfeeding her son. Witnessing the nurturing act warmed a long-frozen place in his heart. But then he grew fully awake. Fully grounded in the knowledge that if his heart ever did thaw, it would be as gray and ruined as freezer-burned meat.
The woman was pretty, but the expression on her face when she held her baby transformed her into what he could only describe as ethereal. Then she turned to look at him.
Her faint smile faded to fear.
As if she’d forgotten he was even there, she looked up with a startled jolt. “G-good morning.”
“Hey.”
The few minutes it took for him rummage around in his bag, straightening his prosthetic without her seeing, took a lifetime. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
She apparently wished the same.
“Um...” Because he’d been on more pleasant bombing raids, he cleared his throat. “Give me a sec to get coffee in my system and I’ll launch a fresh search for the horse.”
She nodded. “I’ve got freeze-dried scrambled eggs if you’d like me to make breakfast?”
“Thanks. But you’ve got your hands full. I’ll tackle chow. You handle baby maintenance—speaking of which, he probably needs a fresh diaper.” Lord help him, now that he was on a roll, he couldn’t shut up. “I’ve got biodegradable paper towels that should work.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He unzipped his sleeping bag, then rolled onto his knees, maneuvering himself into a standing crouch that his height forced him to use all the way to the tent’s zippered door.
“You slept in your boots?”
Gideon froze. “Is that a problem?”
“No. I mean, I guess not. It’s just a little odd.”
“I don’t recall asking your opinion.” The blunt-edged statement had been intended to shut her up. It did. But instead of feeling satisfied, he felt ashamed.
Of course, she had no way of knowing he’d slept with his boots on for the purely prideful reason of keeping his most carefully guarded secret.
“Sorry.” Her ghost of a smile as she rubbed her son’s back should have warmed him, but it only served as a further reminder of his condition. Of the reason his entire life had fallen apart. “I was teasing. It’s touching—the fact that you care so much about protecting us that you fell asleep fully dressed. Thank you.”
Gideon grunted before tugging hard enough on the tent’s zipper to make the whole structure lean.
He had to get out of here.
Being around Jane and her baby only served as a reminder of the life he might have had.
He was one of the lucky ones. No pain. Full functionality. But somehow in the grand scheme of things, none of that mattered.
Some days he felt as if that grenade hadn’t just taken his leg, but his man card.
What he needed to feel better was to get Jane and her baby off his mountain. He’d help find her family, and that would be that. Like his ex, she’d be a memory best forgotten.
Outside, gulping fresh air, he made quick work of tossing her the paper towels, then starting a fire.
When the camp soon smelled of sweet woodsmoke, brewing coffee and dehydrated eggs mixed with onions and peppers, his stomach growled.
But then Jane emerged from the tent, carrying her son, spoiling not only his privacy, but his peace.
Gideon consoled himself by reasoning that within a few hours, Jane would no doubt have the cavalry out searching for her and her baby boy. When they found them, Gideon would once again be blessedly alone.
He was great with that.
Had to be.
Before his mind took any further control over his day, he cleared his throat, then gestured to her half of breakfast. “Eat up. Coffee’s almost done.”
“Thank you.” She ate from a neon-green plastic bowl she’d unearthed the previous night from her pack. It was the type of pricey camping frill that weekend trail rats would find necessary when the only purpose it served was adding extra supply weight. Gideon ate his freeze-dried meals straight out of the package. If he hadn’t had a horse, his cast iron pot weighed too much for hiking. But it was a luxury for cooking over a decent-sized campfire.
“Sadly, I’m off caffeine until I’m no longer eating and drinking for two.” She kissed her tiny son’s cheek—practically the only part of him visible past his thick sweatshirt swaddling. “But this sure is good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You’re