Make Me Remember by Beth Kery Read Free Book Online

the open now. We’re vulnerable,” he said irritably as he dried the blister with a corner of a blanket. He smeared on some antibiotic ointment and then bandaged her. For the hundredth time since she’d first met Jake, she wondered at how such a skinny kid could make her feel like she was in the hands of a competent adult. He could make her feel like a stupid little kid like some adults could, too. “Your feet are important, Harper. You should have told me when you first thought you were getting a blister.”
    “I was trying not to complain,” she repeated. Unwanted tears swelled in her eyes, products of her fear and exhaustion . . . and shame at the irritation in his tone. He was scared, and seeing his fear undid her.
    He glanced around the forest distractedly as he pulled an extra pair of socks out of their pack.
    “Shit. They got a little damp,” he said, grimacing at the socks.
    “I don’t care.”
    “I do,” he snapped. “Don’t you know anything? We need to keep your feet dry, damn it.”
    “Well excuse me! I’m sorry I can’t control whether or not I get a blister. You were pushing us like we were on some kind of a death march.”
    “The
marching
part isn’t death,” he seethed. “The standing still is. If Emmitt
has
caught our trail, he’ll catch up, and it ain’t gonna be pretty when he does.”
    She started back at his harsh statement. After a few seconds, he seemed to focus in on her face. He clenched his eyelids shut. She saw the muscles in his thin neck convulse as he swallowed.
    “Do you think you can make it another half hour or so?” he asked her levelly after a moment. “There’s a place up ahead that offers a little shelter. We can camp there for the night, and leave at first light.”
    “You wanted to keep going until night comes. It can’t be much more than four or five o’clock, can it?” she asked, miserable at seeing his fraying nerves, hating that she was the one holding them back on their flight to safety.
    He shoved her foot into a sock. “It’s going to be all right. Just answer me. Do you think you can make it?”
    “Yes. I’m sorry, Jake.”
    He looked every bit as miserable as she felt when he looked up at her, the bloody tennis shoe clasped in his hand.
    “It’s not your fault,” he said. “I’m sorry for . . . you know.”
    “You don’t have to apologize. You have a right to be scared, Jake. We’re just kids. You don’t always have to be so brave for me.”
    He ducked his head. She knew, because of that invisible bond they shared, that he was embarrassed.
    “We’ll be scared together, okay?” she asked, forcing a grin. Somehow, witnessing his flash of fear and watching how he carefully contained it made her want to be there for him. “And we’ll be brave together, too. And you’re right. Everything will be okay.” She reached down and took the tennis shoe from him, hiding her wince as she put it back on.
    * * *
    That night, they camped out on the edge of a bluff that was obscured by trees and a rocky overhang. They put out the slightly damp blankets and clothing to dry. Harper insisted that she hold up to her promise and cut his hair. Afterward, Jake carefully cleaned up the dark blond strands and buried them under a rock.
    “I did a good job,” Harper told him later, reaching out to comb her fingers through his thick, soft hair. He started slightly at her caress, then stilled like a cautious animal. His hair was a good excuse to touch him, something she increasingly took pleasure in doing. “I can see your eyes better this way. You look handsome.”
    “Cut it out, Harper,” he mumbled, and she knew by his pink cheeks she’d embarrassed him. He ducked his head and jerkily backed away from her hand.
    “You
do
.” She studied him curiously as he poked around in his backpack for something, avoiding her stare. “What’s wrong? Hasn’t anyone every told you you’re nice looking before?”
    “No. I don’t give a damn about what