Anonymity by Amber Lea Easton

managed to get it open earlier, knows the owner, so Bill's going to wait there until we can send help back." Luke sat on the bench seat opposite her and peeled off the poncho. "There's no medical care at the village. Reggie's doing what he can, but without knowing what kind of snake—"
    "Can you please stop saying the word snake ?" She bit out the last word, knew she was acting like a bitch, but her nerves had come undone.
    "Yeah, I can do that." He scooted backward on the seat until his head rested on the closed window.
    She sat up and looked out the window at Bill who stood alone with a flashlight in front of the little restaurant that had been a flurry of activity when they'd first arrived hours ago. She lifted her hand to the window, not sure if he could see her, but hating that he looked so sad when they pulled away.
    All the stories he and Savannah had shared about the travels of the group had made her feel like she knew them, too.
    "Here are sandwiches and water." Bobby loomed over her in the dark bus, his face covered with mud and t-shirt torn. "We're all fine now. Dad feels real bad about the boat. He's a good captain. It will all be fine now."
    She grinned at him, grateful to be headed away from the river. "Thank you. No one blames your dad. Things happen."
    Trembling fingers unwrapped the sandwich; her stomach growled in anticipation. Thankful for the darkness, she wiped at her tears while forcing herself to eat. Knots bound her stomach. All that had dried was now soaked again. She couldn't remember ever feeling so dirty and scared. She'd thought horrible things about Savannah who'd turned out to be a nice woman who laid up there moaning in pain from a snake bite that could kill her.
    Less than twenty-four hours ago they'd all been at Ramon's listening to Dave the Gringo sing while Rosie kept t hem all delightfully delirious.
    Being less judgmental would definitely be added to her resolutions list. She used the sandwich wrapper to wipe the tears from her face.
    The bus moved at a crawl, its rusty metal shell groaning with the struggle of traversing the muddy road. Lightning flashed, the storm intensifying the closer they moved toward the village and the coast.
    She struggled out of the poncho and gladly tossed it aside. The tightness on her ankles reminded her of the rubber bands Luke had insisted she wear. Sighing, she glanced over at him.
    He looked out the window, his backpack on his lap, and sandwich uneaten by his side.
    She slid onto his seat and held the sandwich up. "You should eat. We still have a long night ahead of us."
    He shook his head and met her gaze through the darkness. "I'm a lawyer, a divorce attorney. I don't climb mountains; I hike on well-groomed trails. I'm not any kind of survivor man. I like you a lot."
    The sandwich dangled in the air between them.
    Stunned by his outburst, she frowned. "I'm an assistant curator at an art museum. I don't climb mountains either, but I do ski. I hate the show Survivor and all things that resemble camping. I like you a lot, too."
    He grinned then and grabbed the sandwich. "Well, now that we have that cleared up... Temporary or not, I needed you to know a little of who I am when I'm not kayaking or trekking through the jungle."
    "Or screwing me against palm trees or hammocks?" she whispered against his ear, enjoying making him smile.
    "Art museum, huh?"
    "We're crossing too many lines."
    "The lines are blurred, don't you think?"
    Fresh tears warmed her eyes. She scrubbed them away with a closed fist. She didn't want the lines to be blurred. There was only so much a person could take and letting someone inside her heart again would be disastrous. She didn't want to get attached, feared she'd already started caring too much.
    "I can't stop crying since we got on the bus," she whispered.
    "It's the nerves. We've had a stressful...insane...day and it's not over yet. Who knows what else could happen?" He put his arm around her and pulled her to the side.
    Slam!