“I don’t. But I always indulge at night in a wilderness camp. It helps me unwind after a long day and loosens up all my muscles.”
Erin could think of another activity that might loosen him up, and she was disgusted with herself for letting her thoughts drift in that direction. Again. It was going to be a very long nine days. It didn’t help that she knew now that he had deep feelings for her. She rested her hand on Domino’s head to fondle his silky ears. “I’m up for a drink or two. Maybe it’ll help relax my legs. I’m not used to riding.”
“Are you saddle sore?”
“Not yet, and I hope I won’t be. But sometimes abused muscles don’t scream until the next morning.”
He left and went to his tent. When he returned, he held two red Solo cups, a half gallon of Jameson, and a can of Coke. “The pop is for you. I prefer my whiskey straight.” He squatted beside her, unloaded everything onto the ground, and poured them each a measure of alcohol. “Mixed or straight?”
Erin had taken her hard liquor straight with colleagues so many times that she no longer even got teary-eyed, but the truth was, she preferred whiskey diluted by something sweet. And she didn’t have to be one of the guys with Wyatt. “Mixed, please.”
He popped the can tab and sloshed Coke into her liquor.
“Cheers,” she said, touching her Solo cup to his.
He resumed his former position across the fire from her. The flames were leaping higher now, and she felt warmth moving over her body. She wasn’t sure if the heat came from the burning wood or from looking at Wyatt. To stop herself from ogling him, she buried her nose in the wide-mouth cup to taste her drink. It was perfect, even without ice, a blend of fiery and sweet.
Wyatt fell quiet and sat cross-legged to gaze across the lake. “Look,” he said. “Fawns.”
It took Erin a moment to see the babies because of all the trees and tall grass on the opposite shoreline. “Oh, Wyatt, they’re so sweet!”
He said nothing, and she was reminded that he didn’t know she’d said anything. She sat down, too. Then she joined him in enjoying the natural beauty that abounded nearly everywhere she looked. The silence between them settled over her like a warm blanket on a cold night. Not talking allowed her to listen to sounds she rarely noticed: the soft twitter of birds as they roosted for the night, the soft whisper of a breeze in the trees, and the occasional raucous call of a hawk searching for dinner before dark. It was incredibly perfect, something she’d never experienced with any other person. She just wished that Wyatt could hear the marvelous symphony of nature, too.
After dinner, which for Erin was a roasted wiener on a bun and eight charred marshmallows, they cleaned up their utensils with water from the lake and then had an after-dinner drink.
“Did you remember to bring that solar charger for your phone that you bought last fall?” At her nod, he said, “Well, don’t forget to charge your phone tonight. It’s important up here to have a communication device in case of an emergency. The charger may not be at its best. Sit it out in the sunlight tomorrow.”
Again, she only nodded.
“The reception up here isn’t great. My phone shows only two bars. If you need to call out, you may have to find a high place for a better signal. We can text here, though. That requires less signal strength. I already let Slade know that we arrived, and he texted back, so I know my message got through.”
The rigors of the day were catching up with Erin. After telling Wyatt goodnight, she rinsed her cup with lake water and took it with her to the tent. Wyatt had given her a tiny, battery-operated lantern, which she turned on while she got ready for bed. It cast a surprisingly bright glow, filling the small area with bluish-white illumination. She’d brought sweatpants and an old T-shirt to sleep in, and she made short work of changing because it was already growing cold. Then she slipped into her sleeping bag and doused the lamp. Absolute darkness dropped over her like a thick, black cloak. For a moment, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Then, as her eyes adjusted, she saw the light of the fire playing over the front flap of her tent. That comforted her, and she was so tired she fell asleep almost the instant her head touched the pillow.
Erin had no idea how much time had passed when she awakened with a violent start. For a moment, she couldn’t imagine what had jerked her from a sound sleep. Then she heard them. Wolves, howling at the moon. Only she didn’t believe for an instant that they were really moon worshipers. She thought they howled to each other as a form of communication, and she felt fairly sure that they were saying, Here she is, a stupid woman who doesn’t even have a gun. She smells really good to eat.
She was out of the sleeping bag in one second flat. She couldn’t count on Wyatt to wake up and save her. Thinking quickly, she bundled her sleeping bag and pillow into her arms, shoved her feet into her boots, and grabbed her lantern. Without turning it on—she didn’t want to carry a beacon to guide the wolves straight to her—she plunged through the tent flap into the night and ran to Wyatt’s tent. The campfire had gone dead, and she caught the toe of her boot on something and almost fell. When she reached his door flap, she flipped on her lantern so she wouldn’t accidentally step on Wyatt when she entered the enclosure.
To her surprise, he was sitting up in bed. He winced and cupped a hand over his eyes at the sudden light. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“There are wolves out there!” she cried.
“Ah. I knew I felt something. Is that what it is?”
“Yes, and they sound hungry. I think I’m on the menu tonight. I don’t even have a gun!”
She expected him to smirk. She knew she sounded like an archetypal city girl. Instead he frowned and said, “Slade sent up a rifle and ammunition for you. I’ll go get it.”
Erin’s inner alarm went off. “If you think I’m going back to my tent with only a gun for protection, you’re delusional. I’ve seen wolves in movies. They travel in packs. You may as well send me back with a BB gun for all the good a rifle will do me.”
He ran a hand through his hair and then let it fall to his shoulders. “Erin, don’t take this personally, but I’m not sharing a tent with you. Besides, if what I felt is wolves, I need to get to the horses.”
“I’ll help.”
He gazed up at her for a long moment. “There’s really no reason to be scared. Wolves normally don’t go after people. They’re just hungry and want an easy dinner. To wolves, those horses look kind of like McDonald’s does to us.”
Firecracker. Her beautiful horse was out there, tied up and unable to run in order to save herself. Erin dropped everything in her arms and ran from the tent holding her lantern high. Domino gave a shrill bark, as if warning her of danger, but he stayed in the tent with Wyatt. Smart dog. Wolves would polish off the horses and have him for dessert.
Erin raced toward the horses. When she reached them, Firecracker rumbled at her. Erin went directly to her, and for once, she didn’t have to move in slowly. Firecracker was frightened by the howling and almost pathetically glad to see her. Erin soothed her with long strokes of her hands. Then, still holding her lantern up, she walked the length of the highline they’d strung up between two trees. It wasn’t only Firecracker she needed to protect until Wyatt got there. All the other horses were important, too. It was just that she loved Firecracker, so saving her had been Erin’s first thought.
When Wyatt arrived with his dog, he carried his tent bundled up under one arm and a rifle in his other hand. “What are you doing?”
Erin wondered if that was going to be his question of the night. “I’m protecting the horses.”
“With what? You don’t even have a gun yet.”
“You’ve never been on a mat with me. Trust me when I say I’m an expert kickboxer.”
He smiled and thrust the rifle at her. “Take this. If they come in while I’m gone, fire off a couple of shots. That should scare them o
ff.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get the rest of my stuff and your bedding.” He glanced down at his dog. “Domino, stay.”
Erin stared after Wyatt until he was gobbled up by the darkness. Then she set the lantern on the ground to jack a cartridge into the rifle chamber. After doing that, she paced up and down the highline, Domino right beside her. The lantern helped her see the immediate area, and once she thought she glimpsed eyes glowing in the woods. That totally creeped her out. But she wasn’t about to fire the weapon unless she had good reason. Taking potshots was for rookies.
When Wyatt reappeared, he carried his duffel, their bedding, and another rifle. He seemed absolutely calm as he checked on all the horses. She guessed she might feel less agitated, too, if she hadn’t heard the wolves.
When he joined her, he asked, “Do you think you can use that light to find rocks to build a fire ring and then collect wood to start a fire?”
Erin felt safer now that she had a weapon. “Yes, I can do that.”
“Good. A fire will help hold the wolves at bay. Well, it’s supposed to, anyway. To tell the truth, wolves are new to Oregon. I don’t have much experience with them.”
By the time Erin made a rock circle and managed to build a fire, at least an hour had passed. Wyatt had pitched his tent dead center along the highline and only about six feet from the horses.
“Do you feel them now?” Erin asked. “I haven’t heard them howl for a few minutes.”
He nodded. “They’re still out there. But I’m guessing they’re taking stock of the situation and counting their losses. Tied horses are an easy meal. Now that we’re here, not so much. Most wolves have a healthy respect for humans and guns.”
“How do you know that if you have little experience with them?”
He flashed her a grin. “I read. Ever since I heard wolves had been transplanted in Oregon, I started researching them. I knew it was only a matter of time before they became thick in the wilderness areas.” He bent to stroke his dog’s head. “Good boy.”
Erin suddenly felt exhausted. “Maybe we should sit up all night.”
He smiled again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll get up every couple of hours to throw wood on the fire. Just know that tomorrow we’ll be moving your tent here so you’ll have your own sleeping area.”
Just then, Erin heard another wolf howl, and she decided, right then and there, that Wyatt Fitzgerald was delusional if he thought she’d sleep alone in this dangerous place. Two people stood a better chance of fighting off wolves.
Wyatt arranged the bedding in the tent, and he’d tried to put space between their sleeping bags, but in a pup tent, all he’d managed was a scant inch of separation. All Erin had to do was kick her boots off before she retired again, but she decided to keep her footwear on all night. A forest floor was covered with prickly stuff, and she didn’t want to be gimping around out there while she tried to protect her horse if the wolves came in. She crawled into bed and rolled onto her side. She chose not to zip up her bag. Wyatt lay so close she could have reached out and touched him. For the first time, she noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She wondered if he’d been sleeping in the buff when she rushed into his tent earlier and found him sitting up in bed. Now she knew he was at least wearing jeans.
“You going to turn that light off?” he asked.
“Won’t it illuminate our tent and be another wolf deterrent?”
He sighed. “Yes. But it also throws our shadows against the walls, letting them know exactly where we are. I prefer an element of surprise. I’ll feel them if they come in close again, and hopefully you’ll hear them.”
Erin thought it odd that he seemed to have more confidence in his acquired fifth sense than he did in her ability to hear. She sighed and doused the lantern. Blackness settled over her.
“About lanterns inside tents,” he said. “You should think twice about using a light when you’re changing clothes so you don’t give anyone else a peep show.”
Her face went instantly hot. “You could see me undressing?”
No answer. Wyatt couldn’t hear her and he could no longer see her. She snuggled deeper into her sleeping bag. The earth was cold and seeped up through the fill to make her shudder. Her last thought was that it would take forever for her to fall asleep.
* * *
* * *
Wyatt awakened to a fabulous feeling of heat and softness pressing against him through his sleeping bag. He rolled onto his side to gather it closer, only to come wide awake when he realized Erin had invaded his space. He almost woke her up and asked her to get back on her own side of the tent, but she lay snuggled up against him like a child seeking warmth. And it was cold. Once they got camp set up, they’d each have a small wall tent with cots to sleep on, which would protect them both from the chill of an earthen floor. But for now, he was the only source of heat she had.
He sighed and let his arm relax around her. In her sleep, she burrowed closer, and even through two sleeping bags, he could feel the shape of her. He recalled the shadow dance she’d performed against the wall of her tent and almost groaned. She had a gorgeous silhouette. He’d tried not to look, but anchoring his gaze on something else hadn’t been the easiest thing he’d ever done. So, he had looked. Only a couple of peeks, but that had been enough to engrave the sight of her on his brain.
He lay awake for a long while and tried to imagine having the privilege of holding her in his arms every night. As tantalizing as that dream might be, though, Erin was too sweet a person for him to wish himself on her. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget that night in Medford with the woman he had violated. When he realized she was trying to get him off of her, he’d leaped from her bed and flipped on the nightstand lamp. She had hugged the sheets to her upper body and shrunk away from him as if he were a monster that might attack her. She’d started crying. Her whole body had been shaking. When she’d grabbed her phone, she messed up dialing 911 three times. He remembered just standing there, knowing she’d called the cops. He could have run. A part of him had wanted to run. But another part of him remembered feeling the vibration of her voice against his chest, and he knew then with dread-filled certainty that she’d asked him to stop and he hadn’t.
Wyatt often wondered if she’d ever completely recovered from the experience. He hadn’t meant to do her any harm. And yet he had. And he worried that she might never get over it. He couldn’t and wouldn’t subject Erin to that risk. Wyatt suspected Slade had sent Erin up here with him as part of a matchmaking scheme. He couldn’t understand what Slade was thinking. Of course, the boss didn’t know about Wyatt’s checkered past, so maybe he thought of it as just trying to hook his niece up with the deaf guy who didn’t have a love life. It burned Wyatt that he’d possibly become a special project. Find Wyatt a woman. Well, Wyatt could find a woman by himself if he wanted to. That wasn’t the problem.
* * *
* * *
The following day Wyatt was weary from lack of sleep and in a grumpy mood. The first thing they needed to do now that they had temporary tents was to set up the cook shack. That was no small task. Just getting the tent erected was a bitch with only Erin to help. As Slade had pointed out, she was a quick study and learned how the frame went together fairly fast, but she wasn’t tall enough to hold up ceiling joists without standing on a plastic tub. Wyatt was fearful she might lose her balance and fall. She didn’t, but even with compensation for her lack of height, she took longer to help him than a man might. When he needed assistance in seating the joints, she had to hop off her makeshift stepstool, drag it from one side of the tent to the other, and then climb back up to hold the metal tubing. He got cricks in his shoulders from standing with his arms extended above his head to hold the joists up. It was an awkward position. And watching Erin go up on her tiptoes to stretch as tall as she could was sheer torture for him. Every curve of her
body was displayed.
When they finally had the tent erected, they had to install the wood floor, which consisted of wooden pallets with sheets of plywood nailed down on top of them. Erin helped as best she could, but recalling her penchant for outdoing men, Wyatt refrained from lifting the long, rectangular pieces of plywood by himself and pretended he needed her to assist him.
By sundown, they had the floor in and the propane stove set up, but they had none of their food or utensils unpacked, and they had no table yet. Wyatt could have kept working, but Erin’s shoulders were sagging, and he knew she was done in. They could rifle through the packs again for any flatware they needed.
“You mind roasting hot dogs again tonight?” he asked.
“No, not as long as you do all the marshmallows. All mine caught fire.”
He laughed in spite of himself, then handed her a pocketknife. “Go cut us some more roasting sticks while I build us another fire ring and get a good blaze going.”
He had decided to move the highline in closer to where he wanted the main camp, a choice he believed Slade would applaud. With wolves in the area, he’d want all the horses near them at night. Normally, they put the horses farther away because of the smell of fresh manure, which drew flies. But Wyatt figured they could clean the highline area each morning.
When Erin returned with their roasting sticks, the dusky gray of twilight had settled over the lake, and it was beautiful beyond measure. A breeze kicked up ripples on the water, and the setting sun, still peeking over the Cascades, sprinkled diamonds on the wavelets. He wanted to sit on the lakeshore and just absorb the grandeur of nature for a while, but he knew Erin was probably starving, so he resisted the urge.
“Let’s have a drink first,” she suggested. “We can sit by the water and watch to see if the fawns come back tonight.”
Huckleberry Lake Page 38