Left For Wild: A Stranded in the Wilderness Romance

by Harloe Rae

  “Are you okay?”

  The low timbre of Halder’s voice nearly tips me over the edge of hysteria. A warning would’ve been welcome. I pin him with a glare. “No, I most certainly am not.” The fire in my tone is enough to burn down all the neighboring trees.

  He lifts his open palms toward me, as if I’m a spooked animal. “I deserve that.”

  A rabid blaze simmers in my belly. The urge to gnash my teeth at him barrels forward. I blink that impulse away. What the hell is wrong with me? I can only imagine what’s reflected in my expression. The ire sizzling within me cools after several slow breaths.

  “Sorry,” I mutter. “I’m just very uncomfortable and out of my element.”

  “No need to apologize. I willingly accept the role of verbal punching bag.”

  When I glance over, his green eyes are sparkling at me. They’re several shades lighter than the pines surrounding us, creating an appetizing contrast. Streaks of sunlight fight through the branches above, making his tan complexion glow. Staring at him disperses the blistering fury, replacing it with a much more appealing form of heat.

  This growing attraction to him isn’t beneficial for my survival instincts, unless I’m counting reproduction. Practicing the act might increase our chances. I shake off the idiotic thought with an internal scoff. A raging case of lust has no business in this time and place. Adding my hormones into the mix will only hinder what little sanity I have left.

  He might as well be a complete stranger. I know next to nothing about this guy, aside from the obvious. He’s my only source to rely on at this point. Maybe that’s why I find him so appealing.

  Halder is still looking at me when I finally yank my mind out of the gutter. “Should we open the packages?”

  Wait, are we on the same page? It seems slightly inappropriate, all things considered. But my resolve is only so strong. Then I notice him nodding at the duffel bags across the clearing. He’s being practical and not pervy, unlike someone else in this duo. Good grief, I’m a mess. “Yeah, for sure.”

  He kneels beside the large totes and gets to unzipping. I hover over his shoulder, stealing a peek without seeing much. Whatever they dumped in there appears to be individually wrapped for their entertainment. Having to rip through layers while fighting to survive is all shits and giggles. Halder pulls out a few small boxes while continuing to search through the limited contents. Nothing appears to be extremely useful from this angle.

  I cross my arms and decide to quit crowding him. “Anything good?”

  With a grunt, he settles onto his heels. “Could be worse. Looks like we have a dozen or so protein bars, some trail mix, a tarp, one sleeping bag, a pair of socks, two stainless steel bowls, and a hatchet with a dull blade.”

  I stare at the meager supplies, a slice of hope severing off my foolish heart. “Is that it?”

  “Better than I was expecting.”

  “Those rations won’t feed us for more than a week. What will we eat once that’s gone?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounds robotic.

  Halder pushes our sustenance away, as if the skimpy sight offends him. “We’ll find other alternatives. There are plenty of means for us to gather food.”

  My skepticism raises a single brow. “Where?”

  “Rivers are common in these parts. There has to be a water source nearby. We can fish.”

  “How? Is there a pole in there that you forgot to mention?” I gesture at our small resources with a sloppy hand.

  He shrugs off my disbelief. “I can make a spear.”

  “This is beginning to sound a lot like Survivor, minus the tropical island and reliable stash of rice and the medical crew waiting in the wings. I suppose the interview process was bypassed. And it’s freaking cold. Can I get immunity from this challenge? I’m ready to tap out.”

  A muted smile ghosts over his lips, but it vanishes a moment later. “A reality show would be a lot simpler.”

  “How is this real?” My eyes get hot as I gaze across the frozen landscape. It’s icy and barren and never-ending. “Is this where I’m going to spend my final breaths?”

  Halder stands and turns toward me. “Let’s not be morbid.”

  “How can I not?”

  “We have some elements in our favor.”

  “Such as drinking slush to stay hydrated?” My sarcasm is thicker than syrup.

  His forehead crinkles in the most manly way possible. Those simple creases draw me in like a magnetic pulley. Is this dude capable of being anything but instant-distraction hot? I mean, what are we even talking about? Halder doesn’t skip a beat, of course. “We do have the means to melt the snow and boil water.”

  “But no fire,” I point out.

  He stares at me for a moment, perhaps waiting for another super helpful suggestion. Then a crooked grin teases his lips. “I can build one. That’s not a problem at all.”

  Why am I the least bit surprised? Halder’s declaration shoves a heaping spoonful of inadequacy down my throat. I don’t bother disguising my cringe. “That’s really impressive. I wouldn’t have the first clue where to begin. My outdoorsy skills are poor at best.”

  He lets a low whistle loose. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a bit of a nature enthusiast. I’ve spent my fair share of nights camping under the stars.”

  “Boy Scout?”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Wow, that’s actually really…” I let my words trail off. Was I about to call him sexy? Yes, I most certainly was.

  “Nerdy?”

  I snort. Yeah, as if. “Not at all. You’re gonna keep us alive with all that expertise.”

  “That’s the goal. I have every intention of getting us out of here. No matter what, I promise you that.” His honest green stare bores into mine. Even though we just met, I’ve never believed anyone’s promise more than his in this moment.

  My nod is slow, caught between a trance and the beginning whispers of acceptance. “So, what’s our plan?”

  He peers up at the cloudy sky; only subtle hints of sunny rays are sneaking through. Those brief glimpses are enough to shed warmth over the white blanket of winter. “We’ll get a fire going. Then I’ll start on getting us shelter.”

  “Here?” I point at the ground just in case he doesn’t hear me.

  He kicks at a lump of dirt. “It’s as good a spot as any. I’d rather not risk wasting daylight searching for a better plot.”

  “What about trying to find help?” Those sprinkles of acceptance vanish with a passing gust of wind.

  “I’m not trying to be pessimistic, but there’s nothing out there. At least not within walking distance.”

  “Are you sure?” I want to argue, badly. But I barely have a pinkie toe to stand on where this topic is concerned.

  “Positive, Blakely. We can try, if that’s what you really want. I just doubt it will do any good right now.”

  Why is he so resigned? Is this a normal reaction? Maybe I should just listen to him. He’s the one with any lick of experience, after all. “It seems odd to blindly assume without checking, I guess.”

  He motions upward, making an arc across the portion of sky we can see. “Based on the position of the sun, it’s mid-afternoon. We could walk for hours and end up in a very similar place. Let’s begin tomorrow. There’s no urgency.”

  “It’s only our chance of rescue at stake.” The bitter tang of resentment snaps in my tone.

  “Hey.” His gruff rasp slices through the silence. “Do you trust me?”

  That’s a loaded question. “What choice do I have? You’re all I’ve got.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re obligated to have an ounce of faith in me.” Locks of dirty blond hair are plastered to his forehead from underneath the stocking cap. The disarray is oddly charming.

  “Is that important to you?”

  “Yes.” There’s no hesitation from him.

  I study him, scouring for any reason to fold. There’s not even a flicker in his unwavering stare. “I trust you, Halde
r. Probably more than I should.”

  “You won’t regret it. I’ll keep you safe, Blakely.”

  “Okay.” My voice is so soft it almost gets lost among a whistling gust.

  His exhale is thick with the weight of guilt. “I’m familiar with how the men responsible for this operate. They didn’t go through the trouble of bringing us here just so we could find an easy escape route.”

  I squint into the distance, recalling something that’s been nagging at me. “How did they get us here? It couldn’t have been a simple task if there are no roads or outlets.” I spin in a slow circle, scanning for tracks. No signs of evidence in any direction.

  “I’m assuming by helicopter. Considering their feelings toward me, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just lowered us down and took off.”

  “So fucked up,” I mutter. These people must be a pack of ruthless savages.

  “Extremely.”

  “So, I’m just supposed to lay down and embrace the wilderness?”

  “Become one with nature? Doesn’t sound so bad. There’s not much we can do. Staying alive is priority, right?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Glad we agree. I’ll get that fire burning.” He steps around me and crouches onto his knees. With several massive scoops of his gloved hands, a makeshift pit is formed. Halder digs for another moment before standing to inspect his work. The hole looks better than anything I could do.

  “Do you need any help?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah, this will only take a minute.”

  The confidence stretching his chest is contagious and I find myself buying extra shares of optimism. He grabs the ax and strides to a nearby tree. This one isn’t as green or lush as the others. Most of the bottom portion is a pitiful brown shade, lacking needles and visual appeal. That bare patch is where Halder focuses his efforts. Several strikes and chops later, he has a bundle of naked branches.

  He begins assembling the sticks into a sturdy tripod formation. Thicker logs form a stable base. Every move he makes is smooth and efficient. His expertise speaks for itself within mere seconds. All I can see is him rubbing pieces of wood together with brisk strokes. The motions of his hands are a blur. I’m about to suggest he slows down when smoke begins rising from seemingly nowhere. The crackle and sizzle of sparks shortly follows. Halder adds more dry kindling and twigs to the mix, which catch quickly. Flames billow and send a fragrant blast of burning wood into the air. The scent reminds me of s’mores and summer camp and spooky tales meant to scare. But this is no ghost story.

  I huddle closer to the growing blaze. “There’s no sense denying it. This is very impressive.”

  He shoots me a smirk. “That bodes very well for me.”

  A thrill zings up my spine when his dimple winks at me. I don’t respond because more words aren’t necessary. The flush of heat stinging my cheeks says plenty.

  Survival tip #8: Having the skill is useless without the power of execution.

  A twinkling hum of contentment drips off Blakely’s smiling lips. The sound feels out of place in an environment being used to dispose of our existence. Sure, this place is beautiful. No one will dispute that. I’d appreciate the scene a helluva lot more if I wasn’t brought here without my permission.

  Her baby blues sparkle against the glow of smoldering flames. Yellow and orange tease across the smooth plains of her tilted face. Damn, she’s gorgeous. My thoughts should be centered on a number of other tasks. I’ve been attacked, drugged, captured, and stranded in uncharted territory. Yet I’m transfixed solely by Blakely. She’s putting her trust in me. That’s a heady dose of accountability to swallow. But I’ll never take what she gives me for granted. It’s my responsibility to return her home safely, by any means necessary.

  Watching her relax while absorbing the heat I created twists a foreign piece inside of me. She creates urges I’ve never experienced before. Taking care of her basic needs satisfies a deep-seated desire on some primal level. I get some sort of caveman gratification by providing warmth and comfort for her. These elemental instincts are more than likely due to our captive situation. But I’m willing to give her the credit she deserves. Blakely is unlike any woman I’ve met.

  I’m two seconds away from pounding my chest while grunting Male make fire and protect woman from harm. The disjointed statement is a chant in my depraved brain. What the hell is wrong with me? As if she wants me pawing at her like an animal.

  As if sensing my internal conflict, another breathy sigh escapes her. “This is nice.”

  It takes a moment for her words to register. “Yeah?”

  “I mean, all things considered. It could be worse.” A single shoulder nudges upward.

  “That’s a great attitude to have.”

  “Might as well try to look on the bright side. Being optimistic is encouraging.”

  Spoken like a certified social worker. She’s a natural mood booster. I scratch over the stubble coating my jaw. “Well, all right then.”

  A mutual silence swallows us for a few beats. Blakely settles onto a small scrap of dirt not covered in snow. She glances up at me with a soft grin. The fading sunlight plays off the sharp angles of her cheekbones. Her smile is bright enough to melt the permafrost in Nunavut. I contemplate sitting beside her, but chuck that idea into the dumpster where it belongs. Standing a safe distance apart is best for both of us. Getting swept up by her inviting features is a feeling I’m beginning to recognize.

  I don’t deserve to share the same space as her, let alone bask in the goodness she emits. Daring to fantasize about something developing beyond partners in survival is nonsense. Talk about being foolish—I might as well attempt to stitch a hot air balloon and fly us home.

  Blakely traces a circle into the slush next to her. “Have you been to Canada before?”

  “When I was younger, we’d cross over into Saskatchewan and Manitoba. There’s great hunting and fishing to be had.”

  “With your family?”

  I widen my stance, attempting to find a comfortable position while her spotlight beams on me. “Yep. My parents and little brother. How about you?”

  Her mouth pinches to one side. “I’m from Minnesota, but never made it over the border. My mom isn’t huge on travel. I bet my sisters would love it, though. Where’d you grow up?”

  Thinking of Trixton Falls gets a dry chuckle from me. “A tiny town in South Dakota. I left the day after high school graduation. My folks still live there, so I’d visit every now and then.”

  “Past tense?”

  “There are restrictions for my parole. I’m on a damn short leash. Although”—I gesture around us—“I guess that’s all shot to hell.”

  Her face drains of color, taking on an ashen hue. “How could I forget? That’s so insensitive of me.”

  A sharp bark rips from my throat. “Never feel bad where I’m concerned. Especially after this.”

  “This was no choice of yours. We’re at the mercy of deviant monsters. You have no more control over those deranged sociopaths than I do. I’ll admit to being a tad peeved at you initially. That guilt was misplaced. I don’t blame you anymore,” she murmurs.

  “Well, you should.” I wasn’t aware that captivity could be worse than a guarded cage. This is a very different version of lockup, with an innocent woman as my cellmate. I’m the guilty offender dragging her along with me.

  Blakely looks ready to slap me with a retort, but presses her lips into a firm line instead. “Do you have an idea where we might be? More specific than the wilderness. I bet large portions of Canada are sprawling woodlands.”

  “Since there’s an abundance of trees, I’d guess somewhere in the Northwestern Territories.”

  “Are there humans in this part of the country?”

  Damn, she’s cute. And clearly needs to brush up on her geography. “Yeah, of course. Some choose to reside in areas far more inhospitable than this.”

  Her gaze expands. “On purpose?”

  There’s no stoppin
g the laugh from rumbling off my chest. “Very much so.”

  “Wow, they’re brave. I don’t mind an adventure, but this is something else entirely. Do you think finding people to help us is a possibility?”

  “That’s what I’m banking on. We can build a fire large enough to draw attention.”

  “Will that work?”

  “I’ve never had to try, but we’ll find out. If we get to an open area with less trees, it’s more likely someone will see the billowing smoke. Then it all depends if they care enough to investigate.”

  A piercing screech of warning calls out to us from above. The shadow of wings passes a moment later. That reminder is clear. We’re not alone in these woods. But eagles and hawks aren’t the ones we need to fear.

  Her gaze follows the retreating shape. “What’s that?”

  “Some bird of prey, looking for dinner.” If we weren’t bunking down for the night, following its trail could lead to water.

  She shivers. “Sounds desperate.”

  “Most likely a common theme around here.”

  “That’s not going to happen to us, right?”

  I shake my head, fighting off the urge to reach for her. “Don’t worry, Blakely. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. We can start exploring tomorrow.”

  “Okay, that gives me hope.” And it shows in the gleaming shine of her eyes—one glimmer and I’m paralyzed. But that’s not something I can afford to be.

  My faults and flaws haunt me, for damn good reason. The worst of them resulted in this all-expenses-paid trip to the Arctic Circle. But I’ll redeem myself. I was given a second chance when those steel bars released me early. It won’t be wasted, even with a mob of corrupt forces against me.

  I rip my gaze off Blakely, choosing instead to search the barrier of trees encircling us. Once evening is upon us and the temperature drops, we’ll need more defense from the elements. Getting a fire roaring is easy enough. Splitting a hefty supply of lumber with nothing but a rusty hatchet will be more challenging.

  This section of forest has a broad collection of spruce, pines, and whatever those leafless wonders are. Those bare trunks will make great posts for a lean-to. That will have to suffice for the time being. The odds of stumbling upon a cave aren’t impossible. Finding one that’s not already occupied by a bear is another story. There are plenty of naturally formed nooks and corners we can utilize if the weather takes a turn for the worse. Those slightly secluded spots will shield us better than anything I can construct.