twelve people had died, twelve people he’d loved dearly. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget, but he did know one thing. He shouldn’t have come here, should never have allowed Brody to get him into this, into letting people depend on him.
He couldn’t be depended on, not ever again.
Next to him, Lyndie still watched him with those luminous drown-in-me eyes. “Well, hell,” she finally said, and shoved the Jeep into reverse to turn around in the clearing. She got them halfway back down the flaming road before she spoke. “You going to be sick?”
“No.”
“Sure? Because I can stop.” She sent him a quick glance of concern.
She felt sorry for him.
Jesus, he really had to get it together. But thinking it and doing it were apparently two different things. He started with breathing, counting each and every inhale and exhale. One. Two —
“You’re okay?”
“Do I look okay?”
“Actually, you look like death warmed over.”
Three. It was ironic, really. All his adult life he’d been with quiet, unassuming women. And yet here he was, inexplicably attracted to this brass, blunt, upfront one who probably wouldn’t recognize quiet and unassuming if it bit her on the ass.
A shame he’d given up women for now. He was simply too screwed up for anything but solitude. Four. Five…
The ride back felt every bit as bone-jarring as it had been coming, and his teeth rattled in his head. Maybe it rattled his thoughts, too, because though he’d fallen apart back there, suddenly leaving seemed wrong. “Pull over.”
“Right.” She kept going.
“Pull over.”
She risked another glance at him, then slammed on her brakes right in the middle of the narrow, pitted road, as pulling over wasn’t really an option unless they wanted to either barbeque themselves or fall off the cliff.
Instead of stopping, they slid for a heart-stopping moment.
Six. Seven…
The Jeep rocked to a stop.
“Go back,” he said into the silence.
She slowly shook her head. “No can do. I have to take you home and find someone else. You obviously have some serious shit to deal with. On your own time.”
Message clear. She was going to come back here. She’d been flying all day, but she was going to repeat it all in order to see this through. Her dedication was humiliating and shaming, and just the kick in the ass he needed. “Go back,” he said again.
Again, she just looked at him as if he was crazy, and in truth, he was. He wasn’t going to reach her with words, he didn’t deserve to. But he wasn’t going back home. Just as she had in her plane, he reached out and put a hand on her knee. “Do it, or I’ll walk back to that fire.”
She stared down at his hand on her, then looked into his face.
“I’m doing this,” he said softly.
The wind rippled, the ash continued to rain over them. The eerie silence except for the ominous crackling of the fire made him feel like he was starring in a bad horror flick. He squeezed gently on her leg, feeling the strength quivering within her. “Please, Lyndie.”
She let out a sigh, and rolled her eyes. “Fine, if you want to make a fool out of yourself. Again. ” She knocked his hand off her knee, then shoved the Jeep into reverse, and with a startling skill and ease, hit the gas, driving backward up the curving, narrow dirt road until she came to a spot in the road where she could turn around without toasting them. She did this so fast his head spun as he ate their dust.
Grimly, she worked the stick into first gear and took off again, heading forward now, getting them to the clearing in the same heart-stopping manner she flew her plane. For a minute she sat there, short fiery hair blowing about her like a halo, eyes flashing with determination and more grit than he’d seen in a good long time. She was strong and brave, and amazing.
Griffin would have liked to match her determination and grit, pound for pound, to be as brave and strong as she. Even sweating,