Christmas Undercover

“Sara, it’s okay.” He reached out.

His mistake.

She jerked back as if his touch would sear her skin. “Get inside.”

He put up his hands and prayed for patience. What more could he do to make her feel safe?

“Are you hungry?” he said, going into the cabin. “I thought I’d heat up some red beans and rice for supper.”

She followed him inside and shut the door. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if you were hungry.”

“Stop being nice to me.”

“Would you rather I be mean to you?” He pulled out supplies for dinner.

“He could have been working for Harrington and LaRouche,” she said.

“Doubtful. He gave me his business card.” Will offered it to her. She took it and sat on the bed, still clutching the gun.

He pulled out a pot and found a can opener in a drawer. “As soon as the phone dries off, I’ll get a signal and call SAR, but it might not be until tomorrow morning.”

“Go ahead. Ask me,” she said.

“Ask you what?”

“What I’m doing out here, and why men from a tour group I was assisting with are after me.”

“My goal is to get you back to town for medical attention. If you want to tell me what’s going on, that’s completely up to you.”

He heard the bed creak and her soft groan drift across the cabin. She was hurting. The adrenaline rush from her encounter with the bear had probably masked her pain, and now that she considered herself relatively safe, she was feeling every ache, every pinch of pain.

“How about some pain reliever?” he asked.

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

“Check my backpack, side pocket,” he said, pleased that she was accepting his help. “You’ll find a small container with ibuprofen and vitamins. Probably wouldn’t hurt for you to chew on a few vitamin Cs to boost your immune system.”

Filling the pot with water, he went to the fireplace to warm it. He didn’t look at her for fear he’d scare her again, that she’d retreat behind a wall of paranoia and fear.

“Wouldn’t hurt to drink more water,” he suggested. “To help the dehydration, and probably the headache.”

She grabbed the water bottle off the bed and sipped.

“Why are you here?” she said.

“It’s my cabin, at least for a few more days.”

“Why don’t you leave me alone?”

“That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.”

“Gentlemanly, huh?” she said.

“You sound as if you’ve never heard the word before.” He stirred their dinner.

“Or I haven’t met many—” she paused “—gentlemen.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“It’s life.”

He dropped the subject, not wanting to antagonize her with a philosophical discussion on how men were supposed to be gentlemen, especially to women, that men weren’t supposed to think solely of themselves.

And abandon their children to a volatile mother.

Whoa, shelve it, Will. This getaway was supposed to be about easing the resentment from his heart, not battling the scars from childhood.

Out of the corner of his eye, Will noticed Sara shivering as she popped off the top of the ibuprofen bottle.

“If you remove your wet jeans we can dry them by the fire,” he offered.

“No, thanks.”

“Okay.”

“No offense, but I won’t get very far without my pants.”

“Nor will you get very far if you come down with pneumonia.”

“Okay, Dad.”

He sighed. “Sorry, guess I clicked into parent mode.”

He refocused on the water heating in the pot. For whatever reason, she still couldn’t completely trust him.

Understanding comes from walking in the other person’s shoes. Reverend Charles’s advice when Will struggled to understand Megan. No matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t make sense of why she’d pushed him away.

Since he and Sara would be stuck in this one-room cabin for a while, he tried seeing the world from her point of view to better understand her reactions. She seemed clearheaded, not as delusional as before, and she feared someone was out to harm her. That was her reality. He had to respect that fact. She was also wounded and stuck in a remote cabin with a stranger who, in her eyes, was somewhat of an enigma because he considered himself a gentleman.

The fact that the thought of a good man was so foreign to Sara probably intensified her distrust.

Will realized that in order to take care of her, he needed to respect her space, and not act aggressive or domineering. He hoped she would open her mind to the possibility that he truly wanted to help.

* * *

Gripping the gun firmly in her hand, Sara found herself struggling to stay awake. Not good. Things happened when she slept.