Free Thanksgiving Groom by Brenda Minton Page B

worse than traveling with a five-year-old.
    â€œPenelope, we’ll walk as far as we possibly can.” He looked up at blue skies. “This weather might not last. I want to make the most of it.”
    â€œYou don’t have to snap.” She trudged on, her nose and cheeks pink and her eyes watery from the cold.
    â€œI wasn’t snapping.” He sighed, because he had snapped. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œThank you.” She walked faster, catching up with him.
    She walked by his side, her breathing soft and her steps quick to keep up with his. He looked down and shook his head. No wonder her dad wanted to marry her off. Herman Lear wanted her out of his home so he could have peace and quiet.
    â€œExcited to be going back?”
    â€œSure.” She didn’t look up, but kept her gaze on the trail and on her feet as she walked.
    â€œYou don’t sound excited.”
    She looked up and then back down, careful over the rocky path. There were slick spots and the best goingwas next to the stream. He just hoped none of them fell in. That would be a little more adventure than any of them needed.
    â€œI’m not excited. I mean, I’ll be glad to get back, but this hasn’t been terrible.”
    No, she had something there. It hadn’t been terrible.
    â€œYou’re right, it hasn’t been bad.”
    â€œYou’re probably not happy to be going back.” She slid a little on ice and he grabbed her arm to steady her.
    â€œWhat does that mean?”
    â€œYou were content to hide out there, away from your life and problems. You lectured me about staying put when you’re lost, and yet you walked away from the plane.”
    The kitten had some pretty sharp claws. He would have smiled, but her words stung a little. She was insinuating that he ran from his problems. He’d never run from anything, never. Until June.
    â€œI didn’t run.” He half attempted a denial and then he sighed. “I’m not excited.”
    Anything but excited. He would have to face Jake and Gage, who appeared to be about the only real friends he had in the world. He glanced back and the Johnsons were trudging a short distance behind, hand in hand. He had friends.
    He noticed their red faces and slowing steps. He’d have to take breaks for their sake. If he hadn’t worried about their safety at the cabin, they could have waited for the next supply drop and signaled the pilot.
    When they got back to Treasure Creek they all hadthings to face. Penelope wasn’t as free as she wanted him to think.
    They walked on in silence. Penelope didn’t talk. Sometimes her lips moved and he guessed that she was praying. He remembered that new faith, when knowing God was as new as falling in love for the first time. He’d been a kid, but he’d wanted to tell everyone who would listen.
    He glanced up at the bright blue sky and then around him, at towering mountains and evergreens. They were following the stream because it would take them to a village inhabited by native Alaskans. That was a twenty-plus mile walk by his estimation. He knew that there was a fork in the stream when they reached that village, and taking the southern fork would lead them to Treasure Creek. They’d also be able to have shelter for a night. But that wouldn’t happen for a couple of days. His hope was that someone in the village would give them a ride to Treasure Creek.
    He pulled back his thoughts, because they had to take one day at a time and not get overanxious about making it to civilization. They had limited daylight and rough terrain to take into account. This day would end with the four of them camped along this stream, hoping a fire, their tent and sleeping bags would keep them warm enough. And he was pretty doubtful.
    At least Clark and Wilma would have each other. He glanced down at the woman walking next to him, huffing with exertion, her cheeks glowing from the cold and