Two Alone by Sandra Brown

not—friends.

Five
    It seemed to take forever for bedtime to arrive. Early in the evening they shared another meal with the Gawrylows. Their discussion about the extensive hike to the Mackenzie River carried over long after they were finished eating.
    "There's no path to follow. It's rugged terrain, so it ’ s a full day's walk," Quinn told them.
    "We'll leave as soon as it's light enough." Cooper hadn't let Rusty out of his sight. He'd kept an eagle eye on her all afternoon. Now, as she sat in the straight-backed chair, he sat beside her on the floor, a proprietary arm draped over her t high. "We won't need to pack much. I don't plan to take everything—only what's absolutely necessary."
    Quinn asked, "What about the woman?"
    Rus ty f elt Cooper's biceps contract against her leg. "What about her?"
    "She'll slow us down."
    "I'll stay here with her, Pa," Reuben offered gallantly.
    "No." Cooper's response was as sharp as a jab made with a hat pin. "She goes. I don't care how slow we have to travel."
    "It's all the same to us," Quinn said with his characteristic shr ug, "but I thought you were in a hurry to contact your friends an d family. They must be worried about you."
    Rusty glanced down at the t op of Coopers head. "Cooper?" H e looked up at her. "I don't mind staying here alone. If you can cover more ground without me hobbling along, it only makes sense, doesn't it? You could call my father as soon as you g et to a telephone. He'll send someone to pick me up. This could a ll be over by tomorrow night."
    He regarded her wistful expression. She 'd go along and bear up under the hardships stoically if he insisted. But it wouldn't be easy fo r her to cover fifteen miles of forested ground even if she weren't injured. Through no fault of her own, she would cause them endless delays that might necessitate making camp for a night.
    Still, he didn' t like the idea of being separated from her. No matter how feisty she was, she couldn't effectively defend herself. In this environment she was as helpless as a butterfly. He wasn't being sentimental, he assured himself. It was just that she had sur vived this long against incredible odds; he would hate for any thing to happen to her now that rescue was a probability instead of a pipe dream.
    H is hand folded around her knee protectively. "Let's wait a nd see how you feel in the morning." The next several hours crawled by. Rusty didn't know how the G awrylows maintained their sanity. There was nothing to do, nothing to read, nothing to listen to or to look at—except each other. And when that became boring, they all stared at the sputtering kerosene lamp that put our more smelly black smoke than light.
    One would expect these hermits to ply them with a million questions about the outside world, but the Gawrylows showed a marked absence of in t erest in anything that was going on beyond their boundaries.
    Feeling grimy and unwashed, Rusty timidly asked for a bowl of water. Reuben stumbled over his own long feet while fetching it for her and slopped some of it in her lap before successfully setting it down.
    She pushed the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows and washed her face and hands with the bar of soap Cooper had permit ted her to bring along. She would have liked to savor the luxurious feeling of cupping handful after handful of water over her face, but three pairs of eyes were focused on her. When Cooper thrust one of his own T-shirts into her wet hands, she accepted it regretfully and dried her face.
    Picking up her hairbrush, she began pulling it through her hair, which was not only dirtier than it had been in her life, but also matted and tangled. She was just beginning to work all the snarls out when Cooper jerked the brush out of her hands and said bossily, "That's enough."
    She rounded on him, ready to protest, but his stony face stopped her. He'd been behaving strangely all day—more so than usual. She wanted to ask what the hell was wrong with him, why he was so