Chosen (19 page)

When Will woke, the room was dark. Emma’s back pressed against his chest and she had stopped shivering. Her body had warmed a little, although she was still cold, and her breath was slow and even. He was thankful she still slept.

He eased himself out of the bed and put on sweat pants and a t-shirt he found earlier. Picking up their wet clothes, he carried them out to the kitchen and opened the battered back door, the fading sunlight signaling it was early evening. Once he’d lit the lantern, he shut the door and looked around to take in the room. The kitchen was a bare bones affair, with only the essentials, and the essentials in this case didn’t include a stove, refrigerator or a microwave.

The cabinets were stocked with a few items. He found a couple boxes of cereal, a box of crackers and snacks, a box of quick rice, some oatmeal, coffee, and some bottles of alcohol. He could use those to disinfect Emma’s wounds. The Spartan feel of the place helped him decide it was a hunting cabin.

The woodstove meant there probably was a woodpile outside, and sure enough, he found the stack by the back door. Once he had a fire roaring in the stove, he sank into a chair at the kitchen table, resting his head in his hands. On the bad-day scale, this ranked as one of the worst. And that said a lot.

Will’s thoughts turned to Jake and he exhaled in frustration.
Jake
. The mark on his arm reminded him how he let Emma down.
A war is brewing and we will be on opposite sides, but not tonight
. Jake had been wrong about that. They couldn’t be on opposite sides of a war if Jake was dead.
Jake is dead
. The reality of it hit him. It was too close to what happened in Iraq. The explosion replayed in his mind and he shook his head in anger. He refused to let himself think about it. He’d allow himself to think about Emma, but not Jake.

He started a pot of the rice on the stove, making enough for Emma if she woke up, but he hoped she didn’t. She needed the sleep and when she woke, he knew she’d be a mess. Part of him couldn’t deal with that right now. He felt like a prick admitting it to himself, but then again, there was no denying what he was. He became a prick years ago. Saving Emma today didn’t change that fact.

While the rice cooked, he checked the rest of the cabin. He found a locked gun cabinet in the back bedroom and searched for a key, finding it hanging on a hook in the back. The contents proved to be beneficial: in addition to the four hunting rifles, he discovered a handgun. And ammunition. He felt better knowing he could defend them, but hoped it didn’t come to that. He took one of the rifles and some ammo into the kitchen.

After he ate, he loaded the rifle and went outside to canvass the area. The cabin was tucked in a small clearing, deep in the forest, making it a perfect hiding spot. A narrow gravel road led into the forest, but it was too dark now to investigate. It would have to wait until the next morning, and he suddenly realized that the next day was his deadline for turning over Emma. He’d worry about that tomorrow too.

He went back inside, eager to check on Emma and feeling guilty for leaving her alone as long as he had. But she was still safe and asleep.

He took off his shirt and carefully pulled back the covers, sliding in next to her. She rolled over to face him, but the sound of her breathing assured him she remained in a deep sleep. He tentatively reached out a hand and placed it over her arm. She didn’t stir and still felt cold. Pulling her closer, he pressed her body against his, her face to his chest. He wrapped his arm around her back, cradling her. Her hair tickled his chin and her breath warmed the center of his chest. He closed his eyes and settled into her, soaking in an overwhelming sensation he couldn’t name.

***

Emma stood on the edge of the forest. The truck was in front of her, about twenty feet away. Jake’s face peered out the back window, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cried out for her. Overwhelmed with fear, she tried to run to him, but something held her back. As she tried to break free, flames erupted in the truck. Jake beat on the window, screaming for her. She couldn’t move.

“Jake!” she screamed as the truck exploded.

Fire and smoke rushed past her, then cleared and Jake stood in front of her in a swirling cloud of smoke, his clothes in flames.

“Jake!” she screamed hysterically, reaching for him while the force behind her held her back.

Jake’s face was expressionless, as though he were oblivious that he was on fire. “Mommy, why didn’t you save me?”

***

Emma woke to the sound of screaming. Startled, she sat up, disoriented. Arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to a warm body.

“It’s okay. It was only a dream.” Will’s voice soothed in her ear, her hair stirred with his breath.

“Jake…” her voice trailed off.
Jake
.

“Shh…” He pulled her closer.

It wasn’t a dream. It was real. “Jake…” she wailed, collapsing in his arms. Her body wracked with sobs and his hand stroked her hair with light caresses.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, but she knew it wasn’t true. Nothing would ever be okay again.

***

She settled down after an hour of crying. Will had no idea how she had the energy to cry for so long. When her violent sobbing subsided, he handed her the glass of water from the bedside table.

She sipped a small amount, pushed the glass away, and fell back into his arms as he sat with his back against the headboard. The clouds had cleared off and the open curtains allowed the silvery light of the full moon to fill the room. He looked down at her tear-ravaged face. A stream of tears trailed down the sides of her cheeks into her hair, glistening in the moonlight, and he wiped them away with the tip of his fingers. He didn’t know what else to do. For the first time in his life he had no plan, no instinct to guide him. He held her, hoping somehow he could absorb some of her pain.

She fell asleep again, in his arms. He stayed awake much longer, worrying about what to do for her. He came up with nothing and fell into a troubled sleep.

***

For the first time in years, he dreamed of the fire. He had shut it out of his mind so effectively that even his dreams obeyed the order to never think of it again.
Until now
. Will woke in a cold sweat, thankful Emma had rolled away from him. Pushing himself up, he sat on the side of the bed, staring at the floor in disbelief. It was all coming back. He couldn’t deal with the memories along with everything else, but he knew why the door had opened. Jake. Emma. The explosion. It was all too close to home.

There was no going back to sleep, so he went into the kitchen. It was later in the morning than he thought, almost seven, and he needed a plan for the day. He found a sweatshirt hanging in a coat closet and stuffed his arms in the sleeves as he walked outside with the rifle. It was cold, but not as cold as the day before. Sunlight peered over the mountains to the east. Birds chirped in the trees around him, sounding more cheerful than he. They were stuck in the middle of the forest with no way out but their feet, and Will seriously doubted Emma would be up to the task of walking for miles. His cell phone had been soaked in the creek and the rain. Not that he knew who to call, anyway.

Definitely not the people who hired me
.

Will knew now that he couldn’t hand Emma over. But what to do with her? It wasn’t like he could haul her around with him while he did his job. Shit, it’s not like he’d have much of a job, anyway. His reputation would be shot to hell when word got out he didn’t finish this one. He briefly considered trying to convince them that she died in the explosion with Jake, but there would be no body to confirm it. He sighed. Not only would they be looking for Emma, now they’d be looking for him too. They’d have to run.

As he walked down the gravel road to investigate, he shook his head at his circumstances. He couldn’t believe he had turned his life upside down for some woman he met four days ago, let alone a woman period. If only he knew why they wanted her, not that they’d tell him. His job had been simple: find her, bring her to them and hand her over. What happened after that wasn’t his concern. Until now.

Their best option was to hide out here for a few days, regain their strength, and hike out. But where? Emma might not even want to go with him. She might hate him, might hold him responsible for Jake’s death. Not to mention that if she found out why he really helped her, she would never trust him. But there was no reason for her to find out. He would just let her believe they were running from the men who killed Jake. He sobered when he realized they would be running from them too. Shit, now he had two powerful enemies after them.

He was a half-mile down the gravel road now, with no end in sight. He had no idea how long the road went on, but they were embedded deep in the woods. At this moment, he chose to see it as a good thing. He turned around and started back toward the cabin, anxious to return to Emma. He didn’t want her to wake up alone.

***

Emma woke screaming again, and Will’s arms wrapped around her within moments. Her cries subsided and her mind drifted, focusing on the soft beams of sunlight filling the room. Dust danced in the rays, and her eyes strayed to a few specks floating in the light. Jake was dead and she stared at dust, yet she couldn’t look away, mesmerized by the dance. It was something to focus on other than the pain that ripped her apart.

“Emma, I want you to try to eat something.”

He pulled her to the edge of the bed. She felt herself moving, but it was like watching someone else, everything surrounded in a fog. Her bare feet touched the cold floor and cool air brushed her bare legs. She stood up and realized she had nothing on under the oversized t-shirt she wore, yet she didn’t care. Her legs wobbled and Will’s arm steadied her. He smelled of pine and dirty lake water. Or was that her?

“Here, you can sit by the stove and I’ll get you a blanket.” Will pulled her to an oversized chair by a wood burning stove and eased her down.

He disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a blanket, covering her lap. “Do you like oatmeal or would you rather have some rice?” He knelt in front of her, his eyes narrowed with concern, his hands rested on her knees.

His questions made no sense. “I don’t know…”

He reached up and trailed his fingers along her cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead with a gentleness she didn’t expect.

“That’s okay, I’ll figure it out.”

Emma lay back in the chair. The fabric on the seat scratched her bare legs. The sounds of banging metal vibrated in her head, accentuating the dull ache already there. The heat from the stove warmed her feet peeking out from under the blanket, the warmth and the cold wood floor creating an odd combination. The blanket felt heavy on her legs. Tears slid down her cheeks, the warm tears cooling as they fell. Her senses were the polar opposite to the numbness she felt inside.

Will’s warm fingers wiped off her tears. She leaned into his hand, soaking in the compassion he offered.

“I made you some oatmeal.”

“I’m not hungry.” Her eyelids sank closed. It was too much effort to keep them open.

“I know, but I want you to try anyway. Okay?”

She nodded and felt a spoon on her bottom lip and opened her eyes in surprise. He was feeding her. He had pulled a kitchen chair next to hers and sat on it, holding a small bowl of oatmeal in his hand. Emma laid her head back against the high back of the chair. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had fed her, most likely when she was a small child. It made her think of feeding Jake as a baby and her tears welled up again, spilling down her cheeks.

“Shh, don’t cry,” he soothed, wiping her tears away again. He brought the spoon to her lips and she took several more bites.

“No more,” she sighed, sinking farther into the back of the chair. If she sunk in enough maybe the chair would swallow her and everything would disappear. If she could disappear, maybe all the pain engulfing her heart would go away.

“Okay. But you have to drink some water now.” He lifted a glass to her mouth and she drank several gulps. “Good,” he whispered when she pushed the glass away.

Why was he being so nice to her? A new river of tears flooded through her eyelids. Will’s thumb wiped them away. She reached and held his hand to her cheek.

“Emma…” he murmured, heavy with grief.

She opened her eyes, searching his face for an explanation. He knelt on the floor, his hand still on her face. His lips brushed her forehead. The warmth of his lips on her cool skin provided an unexpected comfort and new tears fell in gratitude. His mouth skimmed the side of her face, leaving a trail of tender kisses, each one a consolation in her abyss of pain.

“Oh, Emma. I’m so sorry,” he sighed, his breath causing her hair to quiver against her cheek.

She slowly pushed him back and searched his face, amazed to see his eyes glisten with unshed tears. Emma reached her hand to his face, her fingertips skimming the stubble on his cheek. His eyes widened in anguish and surprise before he squeezed them shut. He inhaled sharply and pulled her into an embrace. His hand left her cheek and she felt herself drowning from the loss of contact, overwhelmed with a vehement need for his skin on hers, to drive away the suffocating agony.

She shook her head. “I can’t do this. I can’t survive this.”

“Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m here.”

Will is here
. She clung to his words as if they were the air she breathed.
Will is here
. Why he was there, she couldn’t fathom. His touch suppressed the tidal wave of grief that smothered her. She pressed her cheek to his and gasped in relief.

Will turned his face toward hers at the sound, his lips brushing hers. He pulled back, looking into her eyes with more tenderness than she believed possible.

She lifted her face to his and kissed his parted lips, tentatively, seeking the consolation they offered.

Will leaned back, his eyes widened in surprise. And fear. Why would Will be afraid?