AWOL with the Operative by Jean Thomas Read Free Book Online Page B

away, above the forest, rose a majestic mountain range. Beautiful, but at this moment there was something more important within easy reach. Behind the remains of the log cabin, and overlooked by them last night, was a weathered privy.
    With a silent thanks to whoever had built the tiny structure, Eve hastened across the clearing. Like the root cellar, the privy was still miraculously intact.
    After using the facility, and in the absence of water, she had no choice but to wash her hands with the clean snow. Frigid though it was, she scrubbed her face with snow, too.
    Refreshed, she started back across the clearing in the still, frosty air. Sam had emerged from the root cellar and was standing at the top of the steps. He grinned at her when she reached him.
    “I missed you,” he greeted her. “Where were you?”
    “Had to answer the call of nature. In case you, ah, also…” She finished her explanation by nodding in the direction of the privy.
    Sam lost no time in following her example. When he returned, he no longer wore the grin. It had been replaced by a slight frown.
    “You should have roused me, Eve. We should have been on the move long ago.”
    He must have consulted his own watch. She answered him with a pointedly sweet “Good morning to you, too.”
    The grin returned, this time a sheepish one. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
    There would have been no grin, no apology from the other Sam McDonough, she thought. Just a scowl. No, she didn’t want him not to recover his memory, but she knew that when he did, she would no longer feel this warmth in his company.
    “No breakfast before we leave?” she asked, thinking of the second granola bar in her purse.
    “We’d better save it for later on.”
    Meaning when their need could no longer be ignored. Eve realized he was right.
    After sharing the last of the melted water in the can, they set off across the clearing. The track that Sam had been confident last night existed proved to be a reality in the light of day.
    The forest immediately swallowed them as they followed the rough lane that wound away toward the south. Narrow though the track was, it permitted them to walk side by side. But they spoke only occasionally and, as if by silent agreement, never about last night’s intimacy in the root cellar.
    Just as well, Eve decided. It had no meaning this morning. Or so she made every effort to tell herself. After all, this Sam was not the real one. Sooner or later, he would regain his memory. The true Sam would emerge again, the one she wanted no part of, whatever her physical attraction to him.
    Suddenly, Eve heard it. The throb of beating blades somewhere above the forest. She halted, dragging at Sam’s arm with a tense “Hear it?”
    He nodded soberly. “I hear it.”
    “It’s a helicopter, isn’t it?”
    “Sounds like it.”
    “It could be a rescue helicopter hunting for us.”
    “Or that enemy chopper you told me about.”
    Eve had already feared that possibility, too. “What should we do?”
    “Nothing. Even if it is a friendly craft, there’s no way we can signal it from down here under all these trees. And no way they can spot us either in all this heavy growth.”
    Nor did Eve have any desire for such a contact. Not if that helicopter was connected with Victor DeMarco.
    The sound faded to a hum in the distance, and finally the sky was silent once more. Eve kept listening for it as she and Sam went on, but it never approached them again. The hours passed, the sun moving over to the west. And all the while, as they tramped onward through the snow, the granola bar in Eve’s purse spoke to her.
    When she could no longer ignore its call, or the ache in her legs, she demanded a break. “I’m hungry, and I’m tired.”
    “You’re right. It’s time for a rest stop.”
    They found a thick log around a bend in the trail. Sam brushed the snow off the top of it, and they perched on it side by side. Eve divided the bar and gave him his half of it.
    She ate