That Touch of Pink. Teresa Southwick
ordered to leave behind.
One corner of his mouth curved up when his gaze met hers. “That’s not essential.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.” Thank goodness she’d remembered the lack of electricity and left out her blow-dryer and hot rollers. The humiliation would have been too much.
“You’re lucky I let you talk me into that cream stuff.”
“Thank goodness my moisturizer has an SPF fifteen.”
“To protect your skin.” His voice turned gruff. “But the rule is if you can’t eat it or use it for shelter, it’s not a necessity.”
“I eat chocolate cereal,” Kimmie said hopefully.
He looked at her. “The benefit doesn’t outweigh the negative.”
“This is where I remind you that The Bluebonnets only require us to spend one night living off the land. It’s okay to relax your standards for us civilians.”
“Relaxing standards can compromise a mission. After we hike to the campsite you’ll thank me.”
Kimmie looked up at him. “But the box isn’t heavy.”
Abby took pity on him. “I appreciate that you’re trying to explain things to her. But sometimes a unilateral no is the best course of action.”
His gaze narrowed. “Whatever you say. I don’t know much about kids.”
“That almost makes us even. I know zero about camping. Which is why I need you—” That didn’t sound right. She didn’t need him. Any beefy, brainless, no-neck outdoorsman would do. But he was none of those things. In fact, he had a nice, strong-looking neck and she would like to press her lips to a spot… Not going there, she thought. “I mean the great outdoors is why I bought you— Hired your services— So to speak.”
“I get it.”
While they talked, Kimmie started out of the kitchen with the cereal box under her arm and Abby grabbed it. “Not so fast, young lady. This stays here. Riley said no.”
Kimmie looked up as she scuffed the toe of her new pink sneaker on the tile floor. “What if I get hungry?”
“I’m sure Mr. Dixon has that situation under control.”
Abby shuddered to think what that meant. Dehydrated meals, beef jerky, energy bars hard as hockey pucks that also served as lethal weapons. As her anxiety level spiked, she reminded herself that it was one night. And she could afford to lose a couple of pounds. Every cloud had a silver lining, and she tried desperately to find it in this situation.
She glanced at Riley’s face as he watched Kimmie pick up her princess backpack. She found another silver lining in his expression, which bordered on horror. When he’d agreed to take them on the trip, she knew it was because of what Kimmie had said about disappointment. She’d watched him melt like a chocolate bar left out in the sun. That Riley would be a challenge to resist. But this Riley…his tight lips and narrowed eyes told her the bullheaded bozo was back. Resisting him would be a piece of cake.
Bring on the great outdoors, she thought happily.
Why had she ever thought that hiring an expert would make this easy? She’d left the location of the campsite up to him, but apparently she’d neglected to mention that he needed to take into account Kimmie’s age and physical limitations. The Bluebonnets weren’t unreasonable in their badge expectations, but she’d bought Rambo.
They’d walked for what seemed like days. Even after numerous stops to rest, they were exhausted. When Riley glanced over his shoulder to study them, he obviously decided they looked like something the cat choked up because he stopped for a rest. Again.
Abby and Kimmie practically collapsed on a prone log. He’d carried most of the equipment on an aluminum frame strapped to his back and looked ready to pose for the cover of Great Outdoors magazine. She and Kimmie only had their backpacks with one day’s clothing and looked like they’d been lost in the woods for a week. Thank goodness he’d confiscated the cereal box. But she was still bitter about her makeup.
After resting for a few minutes, she noticed the wind had kicked up and clouds were rolling in.
Riley frowned as he studied the sky. “There’s still a way to go yet, and we need daylight to set up camp. Shelter could be a priority. We need to get a move on.”
Abby wished for his impassive look to replace his current expression. Something told her he didn’t scare easily and that his frown was panic for anyone else. This was a heck of a time to get the meaning of “be careful what you wish for.” She’d gotten her wish, which meant they were stuck out in the middle of nowhere and taking orders from Rambo—good-looking though he might be here in his element. To make matters worse, that made her want to look her best. Which put taking a bath at the top of her priority list.
And washing her hair—it was limp and stringy because she was sweaty and dirty. After she bathed, she wanted to put on makeup and blow-dry her hair. But she couldn’t do any of that because her necessities were at home. And how shallow was she to be thinking about any of that, what with the wind kicking up.
“Abby,” he barked out. “Let’s get going.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, standing on shaky legs and saluting.
“Very funny.” But in his eyes there was a spark of what appeared to be genuine amusement.
She looked at the dark clouds. “It looks like a storm’s moving in. But I checked the weather.”
“Me, too. It was supposed to be clear and mild,” he said. “I guess this is a rogue. We need to hurry.”
Kimmie stood beside her and slid her hand around Abby’s waist. “I can’t go fast. My new shoes hurt.”
Abby pulled off her daughter’s socks and shoes and saw she had blisters on both feet. “Why didn’t you say something, sweetie?”
“It wasn’t so bad.” She looked at the sky as she brushed away the hair that had blown into her mouth. “Is there gonna be thunder?”
“Maybe,” he said, resting his hands on lean hips.
“I don’t like thunder,” she said. “Sometimes there’s tornadoes when there’s thunder.”
“Not always.” Abby tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. In seconds, the wind had blown it free. She wasn’t into predicting weather, but it seemed as if it was getting darker.
“But sometimes,” Kimmie said, “we go to our safe room when the wind gets really bad.”
“That’s right.”
Kimmie looked up at her with a trusting expression on her face. “Do tents have safe rooms?”
Abby glanced at the compactly compressed wad of nylon on Riley’s backpack. “Good question, kiddo. Riley?”
He stopped studying the clouds and met her gaze. “Yeah?”
“What happens if things get worse?”
“These blow up suddenly and are gone just as fast. But I’d feel better if we had camp set up. We can bandage those blisters and she’ll be good to go.”
Kimmie clung to her and started sniffling. “Mommy, I’m scared.”
“It’s okay, honey. We’ll be all right. Riley knows what he’s doing.”
“But he can’t make the storm go away,” her daughter pointed out.
As if to give her statement an exclamation point, the echo of rumbling thunder drifted to them.
“Mommy?”
“I know, sweetie.” Abby patted her daughter’s back as the child buried her face in her shirt. “Riley, do you think this is a good