She froze in the act of unzipping her sleeping bag and spreading it over the bare mattress. “Any chance we could lose him during the night?”
Joel decided to go with the least panicked version. “Cam is staying with Perry. We’re worried about a concussion. His head is pretty banged up.”
“Maybe he got lost and the exposure—”
“No.” Joel couldn’t let her think that. Not when he needed her on guard for the worst-case scenario. “Something slammed into his head. Either he fell or he got hit.”
Her expression hardened. “Where’s Jeff right now?”
“Jeff, Charlie and Lance are bunking together.” Joel understood her narrow-eyed reaction because he also had suspicions about Jeff. Though the evidence pointed toward Mark as the attacker, something wasn’t right with Jeff. Something Joel couldn’t nail down. “I want someone with weapons knowledge in each cabin. I don’t know if I can trust Charlie, but I trust him more than Jeff.”
She dropped onto the bed and balanced a hand on the mattress on either side of her trim hips. “When can we leave?”
This he could handle. Simple emotionless conversation. Joel didn’t like the idea of Lance and Perry being hurt or Mark being on the loose, but getting them out of there alive gave Joel something to concentrate on...instead of thinking about her. “I’m not sure if we can move Perry. Without medical help, I can’t really assess how bad off he is, and I don’t want to drag him around and cause more damage.”
“So we’re going to live here now?”
“Hardly.” Joel bit back the wave of heat hitting him. She sat there in thin sweats and an even thinner tee, looking vulnerable, and his mind started flipping back to them as a couple. He cleared his throat and forced his mind to clear. “A group will go to the helicopter. If we can rig some sort of gurney, we may be able to carry Perry out and all go to the clearing.”
She frowned. “With a sniper out there?”
“First thing tomorrow I’ll check that station in the tree. I’m guessing I’ll find a jerry-rigged weapon and no space for a human shooter.” He sure hoped that was the case.
The scenario would at least give them a direction. Someone on foot with a gun could easily pick them off one by one as they lumbered along dragging Perry on a slab.
There was a nightmare thought. A rigged gun had a limited attack range. A human on foot spelled real danger.
“And that means we can walk through the woods.” She rubbed her hands together until the skin turned red.
“I think we need to take the risk.” He walked over and sat next to her. “Speaking of which, you were pretty impressive today.”
“I got lucky.”
He slipped his hand over hers and stopped her fidgeting before she rubbed her skin raw. “I’m thinking your climbing skills and all those years of archery helped.”
“I’ll give you the archery.”
“Not the climbing?”
She shrugged. “I stick with normal climbing now.”
“Why?” He knew the story because he’d never stopped watching over her, making sure she was okay.
Part of the story anyway. He could tell from the nervous energy that she kept part of it trapped inside her and it needed to come out.
“A burst of sanity?”
His thumb rubbed over the back of her hand, and his thigh touched hers. “Hope, this is me. I know how much you love climbing. I’ve been along with you, seen your face.”
“To be fair, I’m a fan of almost anything that happens outside.”
He wasn’t buying it, refused to let her dismiss this. “You excelled at taking groups up. Your dad didn’t like it, but it was a good living.”
“Until it wasn’t.”
The monotone voice tugged at him. “What piece am I missing?”
“The accident.” Her free hand brushed over their joined ones. “Come on, you talk with my dad, right? You know about this.”
Joel had read the news articles about it and gotten the basic information from her dad. Joel knew it was a horrible accident—not her fault—but it didn’t sound like she did. “I know you took a group up Mt. Rainier and bad weather rolled in.”
She sighed and her shoulders fell. “Two men died, Joel.”
“You’re not responsible for an unexpected snowstorm, Hope.”
“But I am the one responsible for knowing when to turn around.” She loosened her grip on his hand.
“Wait a minute.” He held on, even squeezed her palm until she looked at him again. “I read the file—”
“What are you talking about?”