Free Sacred Ground by Rita Karnopp Page B

twenties before morning, if he had to venture a guess. He wondered where the boys were. He scanned the shadowy land, searching with care, hoping to spot a campfire. He pulled his fingers through his hair and shook his head.
    "I didn't see any sign of them either."
    Brett turned to find Willow standing close . . . too close. He reached out and pulled her to his chest. He felt her cling to him. He returned the gesture, needing her strength as much as she needed his. Words weren't necessary.
    He seemed to forget everything with Willow in his arms. How long they stood there, he didn't know. Suddenly aware of her shivering body made him realize the cold had managed to seep through his jacket too. "Go back to the fire and warm up. I'll bring the horses in and tie them just inside here. They'll be out of the snow and wind. They'll also be able to warn us of any intruders.”
    "Thank you," she whispered, then walked back toward the mine tunnel.
    After a pause, Brett answered with a hushed, deep, "Thank you." He didn't expect an answer and didn't hear one.
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
    Willow dug through the food pack until she found the coffee, cooked chicken thighs, and a plastic bowl of potato salad. She came up with one fork and no coffeepot before realizing she'd forgotten a few items in her haste.
    "I'm afraid we'll have to make do with no dishes, no coffee pot, and one fork," she admitted, glancing at him. Seeing amusement in his eyes, she released a nervous laugh. "You can't really think it's funny?"
    He turned his smile up a notch. "We can make do. I'm sure there's a thing or two I've forgotten, we just haven't realized it yet."
    "Gordon would have been furious." In her mind’s eye she relived him screaming at her and pounding his fist into the wall. It always started that way .
    She looked up to catch a glimpse of movement and jumped back, screaming in surprise. She shielded her face with crossed arms, hoping to block the first blows.
    " Willow ? Willow , what's wrong?"
    After two quick breaths, she paused, listened, and waited for the first flow to begin. Cautiously, she lowered her arms to find a concerned Brett staring back at her.
    "I won't hurt you, Willow . I don't know what I did to frighten you, but I'm sorry," he said, his tone gentle. He held his arms open. "Come to me."
    She stared at him, afraid to move. She wanted to go to him, but lingering feelings kept her still. "It's not you . . . the memories . . . the . . . it's me." She felt a single tear roll down her cheek.
    "You are stubborn, aren't you?" He moved to sit next to her.
    She allowed him to sandwich her hands between his. He raised them to his lips and kissed them with such tenderness it made her weak. He pulled her across his lap and cradled her. Willow held her breath, and then slowly exhaled. She needed his tenderness. She needed his strength. She needed his love. She'd settle for the first two. Love, the kind of love she wanted, existed only in dreams.
    "We should eat and get some sleep," she said, awkwardly pulling from his embrace. "I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long, trying day."
    "Suppose you're right.” He reached for the fork. “I wonder how the boys are doing. You think they're in a cave right now, warm and laughing at their great plan?"
    "Knowing our boys, I wouldn't be surprised if that's exactly what they're doing. When I get my hands on them, they won't sit for a week."
    "What happened to the boys will be boys ?" He took a large bite of salad.
    She opened her mouth, taking the forkful he offered her. It made her feel awkward to be fed, yet it seemed special and intimate. "If we had caught up with them today, I'd have considered it a funny prank, but endangering their lives and ours is no joke. They'll have to be punished."
    "I agree. What would you suggest?" he asked, offering her another bite.
    She chewed with relish, realizing it was indeed the best potato salad she'd ever tasted. "An hour of extra