Karissa’s skin prickled as she studied his tense posture. What had suddenly raised this cool-under-pressure Galahad’s anxiety level? Shouldn’t she try to find out more about this man she was trusting with her and Kyle’s lives?
She forced a smile. “A bit late in our strange acquaintance, but may I get your name?”
The man’s body went from tense to rigid, and his facial expression became one of someone bracing for a blow. “I’m Hunter Raines.” The pronouncement came in a fatalistic tone.
Karissa furrowed her brow. What was the guy trying to tell her without actually telling her? Was the name supposed to mean something to her? Maybe this Hunter Raines had some sort of history that she’d know about if she’d been in the US in the past two years. Maybe she ought to be afraid of him. More afraid than of the killers who had tried to shoot and then incinerate them? Unlikely. Besides, he’d shown every sign of genuine caring and no sign of aggression. She’d lived her life thus far giving people the benefit of the doubt. Why stop now?
She stuck out her hand toward her benefactor. “Hi, I’m Karissa Landon.”
Hunter accepted her handshake, his palm rough, his grip strong without being overpowering. “Yes, you said so when we were talking with Remy on the radio, but I appreciate the formal introduction.”
His expression had gone from defensive to bewildered. Amazing how little that beard hid his reactions when his eyes were so expressive. An intriguingly rich shade of gray, too. Not that she needed to be noticing something like that in this situation.
“To answer your questions,” she said, “I was on the mission field for twenty-four months, living a dream of serving the poor in practical and spiritual ways. I came back three weeks ago on furlough, but, God willing, I plan to return to Belize in a year or so. While I’m Stateside, I wanted to connect with what family I have left...”
The last sentence trailed off as the enormity of her cousin’s murder flooded over Karissa once again. Her head drooped as a soft sob choked her.
“We’ll get through this.” Hunter’s voice was gruff. “And we’ll find out who did that to your cousin.”
Karissa lifted her gaze. “Nobody is promised tomorrow or answers to their questions or even justice. Not in this life. I keep my sanity by clinging to faith that God sees and knows and understands and will bring everything right in the end. If I didn’t believe that, my heart would be withered to dust by now.”
“You’ve been through some tough things, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
Hunter winced and looked away.
“I sense you’ve been through a few things yourself,” she said.
Karissa barely restrained herself from asking point-blank how he got his scars. But if he answered her question, fair play might make her feel obligated to tell him about her parents’ fatal car wreck and her sister’s tragic death in a fire, and how going on the mission field had been a sanity saver at a horrible time in her life. These were not things she wanted to discuss with an almost stranger.
However, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something about her had this guy spooked, and that sense of something being off spooked her. Until she figured out what it was, she was going to have a hard time taking Hunter Raines—extraordinarily competent and courageous as he obviously was—at face value.
Hunter busied himself with packing the rucksack. The mundane chore gave him a little space to get his head together. He put in everything they might need for a few days of roughing it if they were for some reason unable to reach the destination he had in mind for them tonight. However, diapers were not something he’d thought to stock down here, and the closest he could get to formula was powdered milk. Who knew how the baby would ingest any milk since his bottle had been left lying on the side table near the couch and was now as incinerated as the rest of the furnishings. Hopefully, they’d find help sooner rather than later and wouldn’t actually be forced to camp out, but he intended to be as prepared as possible for whatever eventuality.
Was it possible Karissa had never heard of him? She said she’d been in Belize for two years and had been back in the States for a few weeks now. The firestorm of media condemnation hadn’t broken over him until at least ten days after the fire, so it was possible that she’d buried her sister and left the country before his reputation had been publicly annihilated. Whether the condemnation was deserved or undeserved, he still wasn’t convinced in his own mind.
Under initial questioning, after he awakened in the hospital, he’d been so sure that he’d inspected the equipment right before the fire callout, but his initialed checklist was not on the clipboard or in the computer system like it should have been if he’d actually done it. In his dazed and suffering state, had he mixed up the memory of the inspection with the dozens of other times he’d performed that routine task? If his memory was faulty, and he hadn’t done the scheduled inspection, then he really was responsible for the equipment failure that led to the death of Karissa’s sister and his own serious injury. But if his memory was true, then what happened to the checklist? He had no answers, and the questions continued to torment him worse than his burns ever did.
At least it was a small mercy—well, a rather large one—that she didn’t know who he was...for the moment. Her ignorance about him wasn’t likely to remain permanent now that she was back in the country. Someone would tell her about him. He’d have to be grateful for whatever reprieve he was given and hope that they were no longer in each other’s company when his identity was exposed.
Hunter turned toward the chair where Karissa sat next to the cot watching the sleeping baby. He froze with a sucked-in breath. What was the matter with him? He’d seen women with babies hundreds of times and usually eyed them with a wistful expectation that one day he’d be a family man. Now, with that hope snuffed out by his ugly burns and uglier notoriety, what a cruel joke that the wish-I-had-a-family feeling should hit him like a truck at this moment with this particular woman as she sat smiling down at a sleeping infant that wasn’t even hers. The flickering lamplight drew out the warmth in her vivid hair and painted her face with pensive shadows that enhanced the natural beauty of her heart-shaped face, slim nose and delicately formed lips. He couldn’t be attracted to her. He would not allow that.
She lifted her head, and her green eyes met his gray ones. The smile was gone. If he had to summarize her expression in one word, he’d say dread.
“Do you think they’re still out there...? No, forget that question. You couldn’t possibly answer, and it was rhetorical, anyway.” Karissa visibly drew herself up straighter. “Thank you once again, by the way, for everything, and I’m really sorry about the loss of your cabin.”
“Not my cabin. Belongs to the forest service. They might not be too happy.” He lifted one corner of his mouth and shook his head. “I’d like to say ‘my pleasure,’ but this isn’t a pleasant situation. However, I can say that I’m glad I was here and able to help.”
More than you know. If only he could convince himself that saving her and the baby made up for the death of Karissa’s sister. But there was no possible compensation if his negligence had cost a life.
Her gaze traveled the small room. “Is it usual for ranger cabins to come with a bunker in the earth below?”
He forced a smile. “No, it’s not. Though after the rousing success of this one, it might become standard practice. I’ve been living out here over a year as a volunteer fire spotter, and last summer I had this idea about putting one in. Something to do to pass the time. My park-ranger brother got the go-ahead from the powers that be, since the project was going to be on my dime, and we worked on it together.”
“He sounds like another hypercompetent guy like