Free Wilderness Passion by Lindsay McKenna

a stricken look. “I can go on, Dan. Honest”
    He got to his knees, putting the medical items back inside a small watertight bag. “If you could see your face, you wouldn’t say that. You’re pale. Your pulse is jumpy, too.”
    “But I wanted to reach the valley by nightfall and start getting my soil and water samples tomorrow morning....”
    He muttered something under his breath and got to his feet “You sure as hell have a stubborn streak in you,” he said. His stern features softened somewhat as he gazed down at her. “Look, you’ve been a real trouper on this hike so far. I admire your tenacity, but I don’t admire anyone who won’t listen to what their body is telling them. You can’t tell me you don’t have a splitting headache.”
    She avoided his piercing eyes. “I do,” she admitted.
    “And you want to walk another five or six miles in this heat?” he challenged.
    “Will you teach me how you cook in the great outdoors, then?” she asked, hoping to ease the tension between them.
    A corner of his mouth lifted. “Sure. You just rest for now. Your pack has the aspirin in it. We’ll get a couple of those into you and you’ll feel like new,” he promised.
    The summer evening remained warm, although the intense heat of the day dissipated when the sun went down. The aspirin made her headache magically disappear, and Libby took renewed interest in his ability to cook delicious meals in such rugged surroundings. At his direction she stirred crushed corn flour and warm water, making it into a thick, doughy consistency. He had found some wild blackberries not far away and dropped a handful in, along with some walnuts from his pack.
    “I’ll put the dough in a pan with a little grease and set it over these coals, and in about twenty minutes we’ll have what they call pan bread.”
    She smiled, finishing the blending and handing the bowl to him. “I’m starved, as usual.”
    Dan looked up, his eyes seeming to have lost their glitter of anger. “Sure sign of recovery. Seriously, how are you feeling, Libby?”
    She colored under his concerned gaze. “Like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me,” she confessed.
    “A meal and a good night’s sleep ought to put you back into commission for tomorrow.” He frowned. “You were damn lucky you didn’t get a concussion from that fall. You scared the hell out of me.”
    “I scared the hell out of myself when I saw that snake, believe me. Next time I’ll try to be more watchful around rocky areas,” she promised fervently.
    With freeze-dried mushroom soup, the pan bread and brown rice cooked in beef bouillon, along with hot cocoa to drink, Dan made her an unforgettable meal. She wolfed down her share of the food, finally leaning back against the tree trunk, the cup of hot chocolate balanced in her hands. Sighing, she closed her eyes, feeling much better. The pleasant clank of pans and dishes was music to her ears as she sipped the steaming liquid. Closing her eyes, Libby drifted off to sleep, her head tipped back against the trunk.
    “Libby?” a voice called. “Come on, city lady, it’s time for you to go to sleep.”
    She moaned, feeling Dan’s strong fingers on her shoulder. Weariness was dragging her back into the realm of badly needed rest.
    “Lib?”
    She moved her head, mumbling something unintelligible. Arms slid around her shoulders and beneath her legs, and she felt like a feather wafting in a breeze. Vaguely aware that Dan had picked her up, she gave no real protest, relaxing against his strong, warm body. His heady male fragrance entered her nostrils as she rested her head against his shoulder. She was only half conscious as he gently tucked her in. And then his fingers caressed the top of her head in a stroking motion, and Libby gave in to the demands of her exhausted body.
    In the early morning hours her sleep turned to fragmented bits of nightmare about the rattlesnake. She had seen a snake only two times before in her life, and that