“No, thank you. Maybe I’ll just lie down for a few minutes.”
He urged her to lie with her head on his left thigh rather than on the rocky ground. She felt his fingers in her hair as he brushed it away from her fever-dampened face.
“It seems warmer today,” she murmured, her eyes closed, her head pillowed comfortably on his firm thigh.
“Maybe a little. I’m afraid we’re facing another thunderstorm. Those clouds don’t look promising.”
She spoke without opening her eyes. “I’ve been hearing a lot of thunder. Seems like it’s getting closer. How far do you think we’ve walked since we left the cave?”
He hesitated a moment, then said, “Maybe a mile. A mile and a half at the most.”
She frowned. “That’s all? But we’ve been walking for hours.”
“A couple of hours. We just haven’t been moving very quickly.”
“Have you seen any signs of civilization?”
“A few.”
That made her eyes open. “Are you serious or just trying to make me feel better?”
“I’m serious. There have been hikers through here in the past few weeks, probably following the stream as we have been. This could even be an established hiking trail, though I doubt there are many hikers out with this weather threatening. We’re probably no more than ten miles from a road of some sort.”
“Ten miles?”
“Just a guess, of course.”
“Your guesses have been on target so far. We should be able to walk ten miles today, shouldn’t we?”
Again, that telltale hesitation before he answered. “Under normal circumstances, sure. With the shape we’re both in, maybe. If the rain starts again as heavily as I think it’s going to, we’ll have to find shelter again. Spring storms can be dangerous, especially around this stream.”
“Do you think there’s any chance there are rescuers looking for us in this area?” she asked with a wistful note she couldn’t quite conceal.
“There’s always a chance.”
She couldn’t take much encouragement from his tone. She closed her eyes and tried to gather strength to start walking again. Her head pounded and every inch of her body ached. It was so tempting to just let herself slide into sleep and stay there. Oblivion was sounding better all the time.
She felt Donovan stroke her hair again. She felt the tension in his leg, and knew she was causing him concern again. She was sorry about that, but she just couldn’t put on a strong front at the moment. She hoped to be able to do so again after a brief rest.
She had just convinced herself to open her eyes again when the first raindrop hit her cheek. It was followed by more, becoming a light rain punctuated with increasingly loud claps of thunder.
“We have to find shelter,” Donovan urged. “We can’t risk being out in the open or beneath a tree in case of lightning. There’s a rock overhang a few yards away. We’ll huddle under that until the storm passes, okay?”
Had it just been herself, she might well have lain right there and dared the lightning to hit her. The thought of forcing herself to her feet was almost enough to make her wish it would. But Donovan’s safety was at risk, too, she reminded herself.
She pushed herself upright. “I’ll help you up,” she said, forcibly ignoring the dizziness.
His attempt to smile came across more like a grimace. “We’ll help each other.”
Doing so had gotten them this far, she reminded herself. No matter how tempting the thought might be, she couldn’t give up as long as Donovan still depended on her.
Chapter Eleven
Wallace Childers’s florid face was covered in a film of sweat, his muddy brown eyes were bulging with panic. An outside observer might think he was in fear for his life, though the two well-dressed men who faced him had been almost excessively polite when they had invited him to sit and “chat” with them.
Several suitcases were stacked behind him, testifying to his activity just before his uninvited guests had arrived so dramatically. Twenty minutes later and they would have missed him altogether.
“You’ve got this all wrong, Falcon,” he blustered, speaking to the man he considered to be the most dangerous. “I had nothing to do with the disappearance of your—”