Luck And a Prayer. Cynthia Cooke
tongue of his sleeping bag and, inch by inch, slid the zipper down until the bag was opened to his waist. She glanced up at his face, her heart pounding so hard in her chest, she was afraid he might be able to hear it. She slipped her hand inside his bag and felt around. Tentatively, her fingers scraped across denim. Yep, he was definitely still wearing his jeans. She swallowed hard, then moved her hand around to the vicinity of his back pockets. He let out a soft groan.
Terror leaped into her chest.
His eyes opened.
She froze, unable to move, unable to breathe.
His eyes closed, then he rolled onto his side giving her easy access to the pen. She slipped it out of his pocket, and all but threw herself back into the tent. It wasn’t until after she had herself zipped in tight and settled back down, her heart and breathing returning to normal, that she realized she’d forgotten to rezip his sleeping bag.
“Oh, man,” she muttered. There was just no way, no way, she was going back out there to do it again. He was an expert mountain man; he’d just have to take his chances with the lizards and snakes and all the other predators out there. Poor, poor man, Willa thought as she drifted to sleep.
The next morning, Willa woke to the mouthwatering scent of frying bacon and fresh mountain air. “Oh, no!” She sat straight up in her sleeping bag and bumped her head on the top of her tent. She’d overslept! Quickly, she dressed and reassembled her pack, careful to tuck the Pen Cam safely inside, then slipped out the tent.
Jeff stood with his back to her, watching the sunrise and drinking a cup of coffee. She spied the trail leading down the mountain, but was drawn back to the fire pit by the protesting groan of her stomach. The sight of his coffee and the smell of bacon sizzling over an open fire was more temptation than any mere woman could withstand.
She lugged her pack out of the tent’s opening.
“Good morning,” Jeff greeted. His sun-bleached hair, still tousled from sleep, hung boyishly over his brow.
She smiled. “Back at you.”
“Hungry?”
“Ravenous.”
“Coffee?”
“You really are too good to be true.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
She quirked a brow, then took a large swallow from the cup he handed her. “Mmm. Coffee has never tasted so good. I never knew camping could be so civilized.”
“You’ve never been camping with me before.”
He caught her gaze and held it. Warmth rushed to her cheeks. “No, I haven’t.” But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t want to. “And it’s been fab, really, but I need to get back to town.”
“So, you got what you came for then?”
Had he felt her searching for the pen? The thought made her squirm. “Fresh air, a little exercise, yep—got it all right.”
“And that was all you are here for?”
His blue eyes probed as if she were a bug pinned under a magnifying glass. She flashed him a bright smile. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated your hospitality. If you hadn’t found me and taken me in, well, I shudder to think what my night would have been like.”
“In other words, you have no intention of telling me anything, do you, Blondie?”
She was an ingrate, a total worm, and as she stared into the warmth of his eyes, she wanted to tell him. The urge was almost overwhelming. But suddenly, the explanation seemed too complicated. I needed evidence that just happened to be hidden snugly in the back pocket of your jeans. Yep, way too difficult. She couldn’t start going soft now. Not for a handsome man with a nice pair of peepers.
“Maybe I’ll look you up someday. We’ll have coffee….”
“Yeah…sounds good, but I’m afraid I don’t get down to your side of town often.”
Was that a slam? She stared him down. Okay, fine. He thought she was a hooker living in slimeville where his holiness had no intention of ever gracing. She could live with that. “How far are we exactly from the campground at the bottom of the trails?”
“About eight miles.”
She gulped, scalding her throat on the hot liquid. “Eight?” No wonder her feet were a mess.
“Unfortunately, there’s not one trail that will take you all the way down, since we jumped from trail to trail.”
“I see,” she said, at once thankful she’d overslept.
“I’ll draw you a map.”
“I guess it would be too much to hope for that you’ll be heading my way?”
“Sorry, but we’re going north another five miles to the Kern River where a boat is waiting for us. If you like river rafting, you’re welcome to stay and join us.”
An invitation for Blondie? Surprise arched her brows. She allowed herself to imagine floating down a peaceful river, her fingertips skimming the water’s calm surface as she reclined against the side of the rubber raft. Hmm, sounded nice. And she wouldn’t mind spending another day with a handsome pastor who kept her heart thumping and her nerves jumping. She’d never met a man who made her feel so alive. She sighed. Yes, it might be doable.
“I could use another adult to help row,” he added before she could respond. “The person I had lined up got sick and bowed out.”
Her fantasy faltered. “Row?” He didn’t care about her. He just wanted another grown-up body. Too bad she could only manage ten minutes on the rowing machine at the gym. “Sorry,” she muttered. “It sounds fun, really, but I have to get back. Work, you know how it is.”
He nodded and, for a minute, she fancied she read disappointment in his expression, but that couldn’t be. He thought she was a prostitute. The pastor and the prostitute, she could read the headlines now. Wouldn’t that give the captain a coronary? She wrapped a thick layer of gauze around her feet and shoved them into her boots.
“I suppose it’s for the best. Your presence has upset Tracey.”
“Really? Why?”
“She recognized you from the strip.”
Willa had already guessed that, but why did the girl consider her a threat? Unless she didn’t want her secret spilled. “I’m not here to bring harm to Tracey, or anyone else.”
“Then why are you here?”
Willa bit her lip. “Like I said, just out for a hike. Imagine the odds of running into each other way out here?”
“Imagine,” he said dryly. He picked up a piece of paper and reached into his back pocket for the Pen Cam.
Oh, boy. Expectantly, she watched his brow crinkle into a frown before he dismissed the thought and went to his pack for another pen. “Tell Tracey she doesn’t have to worry about me,” she piped up. “And if she’s smart, she’ll stay away from Hollywood and Jack Paulson. I know you believe in evil, and honey, he’s as close to evil as I’ve ever seen.”
“Then maybe you should stay away from him, too.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Here.” He handed her a crude map that she couldn’t make heads or tails of.
“Thanks,” she said and hesitated, a little surprised by her reluctance to leave. Was it the trek down the mountain, or the thought of leaving him? “Maybe I’ll see you around back in L.A.?”
“Doubt it. Like I said, I don’t spend a lot of time on your side of town.”
“Right. Yeah, I suppose you wouldn’t. It was great to meet you, Jeff.” She offered her hand. Her