She remembered his description of himself as a “wild, redneck kid.” No wonder he’d been wild.
Her heart went out to the lonely little boy he must have been. And she couldn’t help admiring the capable, influential man he had become.
Apparently deciding he’d talked enough about his past, Donovan changed the subject. “I figure we were grabbed about forty-three, maybe forty-four hours ago. Wonder how much progress Bryan’s made in tracking us down?”
“He wouldn’t have already paid a ransom, would he? Not without proof that we’re safe?”
“No.” He spoke confidently. “He wouldn’t do that unless he knew without doubt that he could grab them while they were trying to collect.”
“Do you think the kidnappers are still looking for us?”
“It’s a good bet that they are. We’re their only bargaining chip. I’m sure they’ll try bluffing, try to convince Bryan that they have us and that he’d better pay up quickly or they’ll kill us. But Bryan isn’t easy to fool. They’ll want to find us before we get to a phone. They’d have been watching for news that we’ve been rescued. Since there has been no such report, they’ll likely figure out the truth—that we’re still wandering in the forest. They know how treacherous the terrain can be, and it was dark when we headed out. They might even figure we’ve fallen off a bluff, or have been hurt in some other way.”
She touched one of the slats that made up the leg splint they had rigged for him. “They wouldn’t be entirely wrong—but I doubt that they could imagine how far we’ve walked, considering everything.”
He let that comment go without answer, which worried her a little. Maybe he thought the kidnappers were closer on their trail than Chloe realized. She spoke quickly to push that worrisome thought out of her mind. “Do you think Bryan has any idea who took us, or why?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s coming close to answers, if he hasn’t already figured them out. Those last-minute distractions were a foolish mistake on Childers’s part. He might as well have given notice that he was trying to detain Bryan in New York for as long as possible.”
“If Bryan’s reasoned that much out, will he confront Childers?”
“Oh, yeah. If he can find him. And if he does, I’d hate to be in Childers’s shoes,” Donovan replied with grim satisfaction.
“Then maybe Bryan has tracked us to that cabin. And if he’s gotten that far, maybe he knows we’re out here. Maybe he’s got search-and-rescue teams looking for us even now.”
Donovan made an obvious effort not to dampen her optimism. “Maybe so.”
She looked up. A few faint trails of high-flying airplanes traced across the spring-blue sky as scattered clouds floated lazily overhead. But she’d seen no small planes or helicopters or anything that implied a search in progress. Whatever Bryan was doing on his end, it was still up to her and Donovan to make as much headway as possible on their own.
She turned to face him, scooting down to his injured leg. “I want to check these bindings.”
Keeping her touch as gentle as possible, she adjusted the wooden slats they had used for splint material and made sure the stretchy T-shirt fabric was holding them in place as snugly as possible. She had no idea whether this contraption they’d rigged was protecting the bone from further damage, but she didn’t know what else they could do under the circumstances.
She looked up at him. He had bent his head to watch what she was doing, so their faces were very close together now.
“Look like it’s going to hold?” he asked without pulling back.
“I hope so. I just don’t know if it’s doing any good,” she admitted.
He shrugged. “It’s the best we can do for the moment.”
“That’s pretty much what I’ve concluded. Are you in much pain? And tell me the truth, don’t be all macho and brush me off.”
“It hurts,” he answered candidly. “Sometimes more than other times. Just like you must hurt with every step you take. But since the only way we’re getting out of here is to keep walking, it does no good to concentrate on the pain.”
“I suppose you’ve hiked on a broken leg before?”
His mouth quirked into that semi-smile that she was finding more appealing all the time. “Something like that.”
“I thought so. I just hope your leg holds out until we get ourselves rescued.”
Suddenly aware of how close they were sitting, she told herself she should move away. Their gazes were locked, their mouths only inches apart. She glanced downward, noting that his mouth wasn’t curved into a smile now—but it still looked entirely too appealing.
She couldn’t help wondering if Donovan Chance kissed as competently and skillfully as he seemed to do everything else.
“We’d b
etter find out.”