Not too shabby, Bri thought, smiling. In fact, it was all nutritious as well as appealing. Silently thanking Hawk, she dragged a short log closer to the fire and sat down to eat.

Not knowing how long the food-or the hunt-would last, Bri ate sparingly, enjoying every bite. She allowed herself three pieces of chocolate for dessert.

Because the sun was quickly sinking, the shadows lengthening, she readied her sleeping bag a short way from the fire. By the time darkness fell, the air had turned decidedly cooler, so she’d shrugged into her jacket.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she was assailed by a sudden feeling of loneliness. Another emotion overtook her, too. A yearning for Tanner. For his kiss.

Damn him, why had a simple kiss wound her up so tightly? Maybe because it was more-much, much more-than a simple kiss, she reluctantly acknowledged. His kiss was everything, the sun, the moon, the universe.

The rustle and howl of the night creatures interrupted her thoughts, and Bri realized it was now full darkness. She needed to sleep, to restore her energy for the hunt. After pulling off her boots and jacket, she crawled fully dressed into the sleeping bag, Boyo’s impressive length stretched out beside her.

But sleep did not come. She lay awake for hours, watching the fire die down, while another fire roared inside her. The fire ignited by memories of Tanner and his kiss. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.

Even as sleep finally claimed her, she could taste Tanner’s lips on her mouth.

Seven

A sound woke her before dawn. Shifting up onto one elbow, Bri glance around for the cause of the sound. It was Boyo, snuffling around on the ground.

“Hungry, boy?” she asked, grabbing her jacket before tossing back the bag’s cover. Shivering, she pulled on the jacket, then retrieved Boyo’s food and the oats for Chocolate. While the animals ate, she munched on a pack of peanut butter crackers between sips of water.

Within a half hour, Bri had everything together, Chocolate saddled and was on her way, once again trailing Boyo.

She made a brief stop around noon to give the animals as well as herself a break. Less than an hour later she was back on the trail. For the first part of their trek, they were following the stream upward. But slowly during the afternoon the ground leveled onto a fairly smooth plain. She let the horse pick her way through the trees and low brush while staying within sight of Boyo.

It was rough going. Once again, Bri stopped just past midafternoon. She was stiff and achy from being in the saddle so long. It felt wonderful just moving around on two legs.

After feeding the animals, Bri noticed Boyo beginning to roam. Certain he wouldn’t go far, she visited the bushes for personal business, then strolled toward the stream to wash up.

Her foot caught on a root protruding from the grassy patch edging the low slope to the stream and she stumbled. When she regained her balance and glanced up, what she saw stopped her dead in her tracks. A man stood on the other side of the stream. He had changed his hair color and was wearing glasses, but Bri recognized him at once. Jay Minnich. In his hand he held a rifle hanging next to his thigh. And he was looking straight at her.

Even at that distance she could see the sick intent in his eyes. She took two steps back. He took three steps into the water, raising the rifle to his shoulder.

Bri froze. A lump of fear closed her throat, preventing her from crying out, although who she would have cried for she didn’t know.

Yes, she did.

For Tanner. Where was he now, miles and miles away?

Barely breathing, Bri took another careful step back. His finger curled around the trigger. Shutting her eyes tight, she steeled herself for the impact of a bullet slamming into her body.

In that instant, not a bullet but another body slammed into her, knocking the breath completely out of her and sending the two of them to the ground. Her eyes flew open as the report from the rifle rang out and the zinging sound of a bullet whizzed overhead, a few feet above their bodies.

Tanner. She could have wept with relief, but her glance caught sight of his outstretched arm, a pistol grasped in his hand. He fired a shot, so close it sounded like a cannon blast to Bri. He gave a stern command to Boyo to stay.

Then he was up and splashing through the water. He halted about halfway across the stream to call Boyo to him. The big dog leaped into the water, crossing to the other side with Tanner. Bri could see him talk and motion to the dog, and as if in perfect understanding, Boyo sniffed the ground for a few minutes, then came to a quivering stop, head high, looking forward.

Bri knew Boyo had caught the scent of the man. Together, man and dog splashed back to her.

“He’s gone,” Tanner said, reaching a hand to her to help her stand. He lit into her the minute she was upright. “What in hell do you think you’re doing?” He didn’t give her time to reply but yelled on. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Bri wet her dust-dry lips, almost as frightened of him as she had been of Minnich. “I was trying to catch up to you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a damn good thing Boyo found me.” He heaved a heavy exhale. “If he hadn’t…” He trailed off, shuddering at the mere thought of the possible consequences.

“I won’t say I’m sorry,” she said, angling her chin in defiance. “I mean about tracking after you.”

He sighed again. “I never expected you to.” He turned away. “Let’s go.”

She hesitated. “Go where?”

“To my camp, of course, before it gets pitch-dark.” He raised an arrogant-looking brow. “Or would you rather spend the night here?”

“No.” She shook her head and made tracks to follow him when he strode away.

As Bri hadn’t really unpacked anything but the food for the animals, very little time was required to get her gear together. She was in the saddle, trailing Tanner, as the sun slid toward the horizon.

His camp was surprisingly close to where she herself had stopped. Tanner had it set up, a fire going in a stone-ringed pit. A three-man domed sleeper tent was set up to one side. A log much like the one Bri had found the night before had been rolled near to the warmth of the fire.

“Home away from home,” she said softly, sure he wouldn’t hear her. He did.

“Yeah,” he drawled a bit sarcastically. “Only we’re not on vacation. You shouldn’t be here at all.”

“But I am, so deal with it,” she retorted every bit as sarcastically. “As I told you I would be. You can’t say I didn’t give you an option.”

“Okay, let’s forget it. You’re here and that’s that.” He turned to the fire pit. “Could you use a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, yes.” She sighed. “I’d love one. But I have to wash up before it gets dark.”

“I’ll have the coffee and supper ready when you get back.”

“Thank you.” She made a beeline for the stream, energized by the promise of hot coffee and food.

After two days on the trail she felt so uncomfortable she stripped to the buff and rinsed herself all over, sorry she hadn’t brought her shower wash with her. Freezing but refreshed, she rubbed herself dry and quickly dressed, unfortunately in her same clothes. She practically ran back to the camp to warm herself by the fire.

Tanner was nowhere in sight when she entered the campsite.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, ducking his head as he exited the tent. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Bri admitted, hearing a low rumble in her stomach at the mention of food. “What can I do to help?”

“Not a thing,” he answered, moving to the fire to stir a pot set on one of the flatter rocks. “Everything’s under control.”

“So I see.” Bri glanced around the site. “How did you get it together so quickly?”

Tanner looked up. “I had started it when Boyo dashed into camp, to clamp his teeth onto my shirt and tug at me to follow him. Somehow I knew he was urging me on to find you.” He actually smiled at her.

“Hmm,” Bri murmured vaguely, her attention centered on the fluttery sensation his smile caused inside her more than on his explanation.

“How does soup sound for supper?”

“What?” Bri blinked herself out of bemusement. “Oh, soup, yes, that sounds good. What kind?”

“Vegetable. Hawk sent it along. It’s dried but good. I’ve had it on other hunts. It shouldn’t take much longer to get hot.”

“You said something about coffee?” she reminded him.

“Yeah, there’s some left in the thermos. Help yourself.”

Bri wet her lips in anticipation, thrilling to the way Tanner’s gaze followed her tongue. “Thanks.” The last word came out in a dry croak that had more to do with Tanner’s hot-eyed gaze than thirst.

He stood very still for a moment, staring into her eyes, then moved abruptly, striding for the gear to dig out the thermos when he realized she had no idea where it was. Pouring out a small stream of the coffee into the metal lid cup, he set it on the flat rock next to the soup pan. “Only take a minute.”

The dry sound of his voice made Bri feel a little less vulnerable. Apparently she wasn’t the only one affected by their proximity.

It was twilight by the time they ate their soup with chunks of dry day-old bread. For dessert, Bri took out her stash of chocolate and counted out four pieces each, to Tanner’s obvious amusement.

As night began to fall, tension was a living entity between them. Every nerve in Bri’s body quivered in a mixture of expectation and trepidation.

“There’s a little coffee left. Would you like it?” Tanner watched her over the rim of his cup.

“Yes, please,” she answered, grateful for an excuse to prolong the time to turn in. “What about Minnich?” she asked. “Do you think he might have crossed the stream with the idea that we would do the same?” Before he could reply, she rushed on, “I’d think he knows we’re looking for him. What do you think?”

Tanner handed her the hot coffee before answering. “I think you’re right.”

Taking a careful sip, Bri nodded, swallowed. “So, then, how do we proceed? Do we cross the stream?”

He gave a quick shake of his head. “No. That’s what he’ll think we will do. We’ll find out whether or not he crossed.” His voice was mild, his tone confident.

Bri wasn’t that certain. “How?”

“Boyo’s got his scent. If he’s crossed the stream, the dog will pick up his trail. And if he doesn’t cross, he’ll still follow it, because he knows damn well he’ll need water.”

“Of course.” Bri felt like a dullard. Hadn’t she seen Boyo finding the scent? Her only excuse was that she was so tense, so shaky inside about the deepening night, she wasn’t thinking clearly. She lingered over the quickly cooling drink, drawing out the inevitable for as long as she possibly could. But she could procrastinate only so long.

Tanner stood up. “It’s getting late,” he said, stretching his arms over his head, giving her a peek at the ripple of his shoulder and chest muscles displayed by his open jacket.

Bri shivered. It was time for them to crawl into the tent. Would he expect a replay of their first wild and lingering kiss of two nights ago?

Did she want that to happen again?

Yes.

No.

At the moment she was too scared to decide. She ached from wanting his kiss, wanting him. But he was becoming too important to her, his smile, his laughter, all of him too necessary.

Tanner spoke, jarring her out of her introspection. “I’ll clear away here and take care of the fire. You crawl into the tent and get undressed. I’ll be with you shortly.”

Bri froze for an instant. Undressed? Now was the time to tell him she wouldn’t…she couldn’t…

“Brianna, don’t freak on me.” His voice was soft, soothing. “I give you my word I won’t try anything you tell me you don’t want.”

“Yes, but-”

“Sweetheart, I have some control,” he said, shaking his head at her suspicious expression. “All I intend to do is sleep.”

“But you said get undressed.” Skepticism colored her tone and shaded her eyes.

“Down to your underwear. You do have long underwear, don’t you?

“Yes.” Bri hesitated another moment, staring into his eyes. Seeing nothing but caring there, she gave in with a quick nod and slipped inside the tent.

The interior was dimly lit by a small battery-operated lantern. The tent was roomy, plenty big enough for the two of them. But her breath caught when she looked at the sleeping bags already laid out for them. Tanner had zipped them together into one large sleeping area.

Oh, jeez.

“Brianna, I’m not going to be asking for anything you’re not willing to freely give. Not now, not ever,” he called to her as if somehow he knew she stood there, stock-still, staring at the bags. “Deal?”