Sorry this has been so long in arriving...As I'm sure you all know, this site has been preventing log-ins for a few days. The chapters will be, on average, about 2 weeks apart from here on out. I'm sorry about that, because I know I used to be able to update more frequently, but it's just not possible anymore... Oh, and someone (I think) asked about why this will be shorter than IH, since I said it'll only be about 30-32 chapters, while In Hiding was 40, but technically, this fic is already much longer than IH, based on length. It's just that the chapters in IH were much shorter, so it seemed to last longer Lol.
I said this at L-F too, as a little disclaimer, so I think I'll say it here as well - the sex in this might be a bit dark for some tastes, because Kate is in a dark place, emotionally, and it was the only kind that seemed to fit the mood... I apologize if it bothers anybody.
Thank you so much for sticking with me so long - To both new readers, and old ones. It's almost a year now since I started "In Hiding", and I can't believe I'm still writing this story!
Chapter 26
They walked as fast as they could to make use of what little daylight was left. The sun had just set, so that the last traces of dusk still lingered overhead, but in the heart of the thick, heavily canopied forest, things were dim. A thin layer of leftover snow on the ground provided a bit of extra brightness, but it wasn't much help. They had no flashlight with them after leaving the wreckage of the RV in such a hurry, and if they had, Kate wouldn't have stopped to dig it out, anyway. She'd barely paused long enough for Sawyer to extract the last of the ammo from her backpack in order to reload the gun. The thought uppermost in her mind was that they needed to find some type of shelter where they could hide out temporarily in case Paul was still on their trail, but so far, she hadn't spotted anything that looked feasible. She kept moving ahead, relentlessly, focusing only on her surroundings and their immediate needs, not letting herself think about what they'd left behind them, about what had happened to Meg. She knew if she allowed herself to dwell on it, she would break down. So she stumbled over roots and logs, not slowing her pace in the slightest, pushing limbs out of the way in her forward drive. She assumed Sawyer would keep up. To be honest, at the moment she couldn't have cared less whether he did or not.
Passing under a particularly dense clump of firs, her foot caught the edge of another root and she went down on one knee, hard. From behind her, she could feel Sawyer approaching, probably concerned. Grabbing her shoe, she yanked it free and stood up, ducking away before he could reach her and resuming her stride. She heard him sigh in irritation, but he didn't say anything. He'd been unusually quiet ever since they'd started walking, which she was thankful for.
After another ten minutes or so of increasingly difficult hiking, the woods thinned out to reveal a deep gorge about sixty feet wide cutting straight across their path. Kate came to a halt near the edge of it. At the bottom, it was just possible to make out a stream, but the rock walls were too steep to permit access to it. It would be impossible to cross here. Undaunted, she began to make her way along the edge, altering their course at a perpendicular angle.
"What the hell are you doing?" Sawyer asked.
"We need to find a way to get to the other side," she said without looking around, sounding out of breath.
He let a few seconds of silence elapse. "Why?"
Kate didn't bother to answer this. Maybe because there wasn't any particular answer to give.
"Think it's about time to take a break," Sawyer added when she didn't respond.
"Fine, then. Take a break." She kept walking. It was funny how she could practically feel his glare on the back of her head, without even needing to turn around to verify it.
Squinting in the dim light, she stared at what looked to be some sort of bridge up ahead. "What is that?" she muttered, more to herself than to Sawyer. Without waiting for an answer, she quickened her pace and hurried forward to investigate.
It was a bridge, but the flimsy structure just barely fit that designation. Apparently built in haste for the use of hikers, it was held together only by rope and planks of wood, and it was impossible to tell how stable it was. It hung above the precipitous drop, bowed down and sagging in the middle, anchored by thick posts drilled into the ground on both ends.
"Great," Sawyer said under his breath as he approached behind her. "Thought these things only existed in Indiana Jones movies."
Tentatively, Kate stepped up onto the edge, resting her hand on the rope to see how sturdy it felt. She took a careful step onto the first plank. The bridge swayed slightly, but the boards felt solid and didn't show any signs of rot.
"Wait," Sawyer said, alarmed. "Let me go over first and test it out. If it'll hold my weight, it'll damn well hold yours."
She cast him a dismissive glance over her shoulder, and then started toward the middle of the bridge.
"Or," he said with sarcasm, cocking his head, "You could just go on across and risk your life. Whichever."
When Kate had safely reached the other side, she stepped down onto the ground and looked back across. Sawyer still stood near the base of the bridge, watching her. Even in the dying light, his face looked haggard and weary, and she could see that the situation with Meg had affected him as deeply as it had affected her. It was just that he was so much better at hiding it. They stared at each other across the gaping crevice of the gorge, and then Kate forced herself to look away from his eyes. She needed to hold onto her anger, and it wouldn't be possible if this went on too long.
"You coming or not?" she called back. He didn't answer, and as the seconds stretched out, she waited tensely, wondering how she could save face if he said no. The thought of walking into these woods again without him behind her was horrible.
Finally, after what felt like ages, he hoisted himself up onto the edge of the bridge, and, keeping both hands on the rope rails on either side, made his way across. Kate inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.
As he stepped down and took his right hand from the rope, she noticed a flash of red - that unmistakable, sickly-bright hue of blood. Momentarily forgetting her reserve, she grabbed his wrist. "What happened?"
He looked down at his palm without much interest, as if it belonged to somebody else. "Cut it on the windshield when you just couldn't wait to get out and explore Munchkinland. Remember?"
Ignoring the hint of blame in his tone, she pressed lightly with her fingertips around the gash. The bleeding had nearly stopped, but his hand was still sticky and wet. As she touched the center of the cut, he drew in his breath with a hiss and yanked his hand away. "You mind?"
"I think there's a shard of glass in there," Kate said, glancing around distractedly. "We need to find a way to get down to the water."
Still scowling, Sawyer looked away from her and examined the bank of the stream from their new position. The wall of the gorge wasn't quite as steep on this side. "There," he said, gesturing to a spot on past the bridge where a more gentle grade and a series of boulders and jutting ledges seemed to provide a natural stairway to the bottom. They moved toward it, and Kate started down first, going slowly to keep her balance, placing her feet with precision. Sawyer followed, a bit more awkwardly, but with no major mishaps.
Near the water, he collapsed onto a flat stone, winded. "They can say whatever they want about the cold up here, but I'm sweatin' like a prostitute in church after that little jaunt," he said.
"Give me your hand," Kate said, kneeling down beside him. He complied with reluctance, and she rinsed the nearly-dried blood off and then angled his palm upward toward the last remaining light. Biting her lip in concentration, she formed her thumb and index fingers into pincers and cautiously tugged on the minuscule piece of embedded glass. It came out in one piece, shaped like a tiny icicle. "Got it," she said with muted triumph.
"Christ," Sawyer said, grimacing in pain and jerking his hand out of her grip. "You gotta act like you enjoy it so much?"
She flicked the glass away and washed her hands in the clear, bitterly cold stream. "Don't be a such a baby."
"Oh, I'm a baby?" he asked indignantly. "That sure hurts comin' from you, Freckles, seein' as how you were such a trooper when I tried to get that metal out of your arm. You damn near passed out." He paused for a moment, throwing his head back with a funny expression, thoughtful. "It seem strange to you that we're always pickin' stuff out of each other?"
Kate had the urge to laugh at this remark, but she restrained the impulse, instead pretending to ignore him. Standing up, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gazed around. Her eye was caught by a wedge of darkness opening into the side of the bluff, further downstream. She peered with more concentration, hopeful. "Does that look like a cave to you?"
He turned in the direction in which she was staring. "If I say yes, does that mean we have to go in it?"
"We need someplace to stay. We can't just keep walking without any light."
Sawyer didn't look at all excited by the prospect. "I'm thinkin' there's a good chance it might already have tenants of the four-legged variety, sweetheart. Quality property seems to be scarce around here." He pulled the gun out again as a precaution.
Kate took a deep breath. "There's only one way to find out," she said, moving toward the entrance. "Maybe if you're lucky you'll get to shoot another bear."
He scoffed. "Sounds like the perfect ending to a swell day."
Approaching the dark, yawning gap tentatively, Kate took a brief glimpse at what was visible of the interior, and then stood aside to allow Sawyer to pass.
"Oh, so now you want me to go first?" He gave her a smug look. "What's a' matter, Xena... Don't think you can fend 'em off with your bare hands?"
Kate closed her eyes briefly, waiting for him to decide to shut up and move into action. She knew that no force on earth would hurry him along if he thought he still had another one-liner to deliver.
At his own pace, he held the gun out in front of him in preparedness for whatever might be looming in the dark ahead of them, and stepped inside. Kate followed, lingering just behind him. Immediately beyond the tiny entrance, there was a sharp turn, and then the space widened out into a semi-rectangular chamber, about the size of a high-school basketball court. It was dimly visible with a pale, milky light, and Kate looked up, confused. There was an aperture in the ceiling showing a chink of gray sky.
"Looks empty," Sawyer said, scanning the area with caution. He slowly lowered the gun back to his side, relaxing his stance.
"That's why," Kate told him, gesturing up towards the crack. "It's no good for hibernation anymore... Probably lets in too much snow." Noticing something on the stone floor, she bent down and poked at it with the toe of her shoe. "These droppings are old. I'd say at least two years."
Sawyer made a face of mild disgust. "I don't even want to know why the hell you have that kind of expertise." He glanced up again. "Least it's good for ventilation... means we can have a fire. I'll go gather up some wood."
Kate straightened up, looking at him sharply. "What? We're not having a fire. You want to lead him right to us?"
He stared at her like she was crazy. "Maybe it hasn't come to your attention yet, but we're in the goddamn Yukon. And I don't know about you, but I'm not really itchin' to wake up in the form of a popsicle tomorrow morning."
"Sawyer, it's too risky! He could see the smoke."
"Then let him see it. I'll have a bullet in him before he even gets his head around that corner." Growing more serious, he lowered his voice and leveled his gaze at her. "Look, I get where' you're comin' from, with the whole smoke signal danger thing. But this ain't a western we're starrin' in, sugar. It's gonna be black as tar out there before long, and I doubt even that deranged boy scout can track us down all on his own. So we're gonna have a fire tonight. Whether you like it or not."
Kate continued to glare at him. She knew deep down that what he was saying made sense - they could easily freeze to death in here without any source of heat. It was obvious that he was worried about her, primarily, whether he tried to phrase his arguments selfishly or not. She also knew that when he got that firm, unyielding glint in his eyes, he could be even more stubborn than she was. After a few more seconds, she swallowed hard, as if suppressing her frustration, and then looked away from him. "I'll get some rocks to make the pit," she said quietly.
Visibly relieved that she'd given in, Sawyer followed her back outside. They separated and began searching for materials to make a fire, both keeping an eye out at all times for uninvited company.
Within an hour, complete darkness had fallen. Kate stood in the entry space of the cave, looking out at the night. The stars were brighter than she'd ever seen them before in her life, and they reflected a pale, luminescent glow on the cascading stream that ran through the bottom of the gorge. It would have been beautiful, if she'd been in any mood to appreciate it. But there was now no longer anything to keep her mind off of what had happened this afternoon. There were no distractions, and absolutely nothing to do, other than play the scene over and over again in her mind. Even by concentrating, she couldn't seem to imagine a different outcome. It was like it had all been inevitable, from the very beginning. That wasn't even close to being true, although it was the same thing she felt every time something like this happened. And yet oddly enough, this sense of things being predetermined and unavoidable didn't at all absolve her of her guilt. On the contrary, it made her hate herself even more.
A shadow fell across the flickering orange light cast by the fire, letting her know that Sawyer was approaching her from behind. "If you're keepin' an eye out for Santa's sleigh, you're a couple weeks early," he said, following her gaze up to the stars. "Unless he's just out cruisin' for hookers."
Kate didn't say anything. She waited for him to tell her what he really wanted, even though she already knew what it was.
After a few seconds, he did. "It's warmer by the fire. What the hell you standin' over here for?"
She lowered her eyes toward the water, focusing on the shallow ripples with a contemplative attitude. Letting Sawyer's question hang in the air, she finally spoke, in a strangely flat, quiet tone. "Do you think she's dead?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she could sense the way his face darkened, the emotion he tried to hide.
"Yeah," he said simply.
"And what if she isn't?" Kate pressed on, her throat tight and constricted. She tried hard to keep her voice from shaking. "What if she's still out there right now, alive?"
"She's not," Sawyer said, just barely above a whisper, but with conviction.
She suddenly turned toward him, furious. "How do you know that? After what you did today, how can you expect me to take your word on anything?
"Oh, good, here it comes... Was wonderin' when you were finally gonna blow your top, sweet cheeks. You've had steam comin' out your ears all evening."
"Do you think this is a joke, Sawyer? Meg is dead!" She paused, hardly able to go on after uttering these words, though her outrage compelled her to. "She was one of the only people on this planet who ever gave a damn about us, and now she's dead. Because of us."
Sawyer attempted a smirk. "Mostly because of me, though, right? Ain't that what you're tryin' to say? Might as well just spit it out." Though he did his best to maintain his trademark sarcasm, it was plain to see that these words held a painful, all-too-literal truth for him.
Kate refused to let herself feel any pity for his misery. Not tonight. She wanted to make sure he was hurting as much as she was. "Fine, then. Because of you. What the hell were you thinking? How could you do that to me!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "I told you what I wanted... I told you what I thought would be safe, and you pretended to agree with me! Then all of a sudden you just... you just, take the gun, and lock me out of the room?" Her voice rose in disbelief. "Why?"
She could see his jaw clench, and he looked away, out at the water, sullen.
"Answer me," she demanded.
Finally, he dragged his gaze back to hers. His eyes glittered darkly in the firelight, his words coming in a low, almost angry growl. "I did it for you."
Kate didn't know what she'd been expecting to hear, but it certainly wasn't this. Taken aback by the raw openness in his expression, she knew her own face must be registering some kind of wounded uncertainty. She worked hard to regroup, to gather her resentment back around her like a cloak. "I didn't ask you to," she said through gritted teeth, her voice a little unsteady.
He continued to stare at her, challengingly, not responding, but not apologizing either.
"Is this the way it's gonna be from now on?" she asked. "You do whatever you think is right, whether I agree with it or not?" Shaking her head in confusion, she went on. "It's never been that way with us. You were never like that! Why do you think I came to you in the first place? Because I knew you would help me without trying to interfere. I knew you would listen to me, and that I could trust you to do what needed to be done! We were supposed to be a team."
Sawyer seemed unmoved by this argument as he kept his burning, intense gaze locked on her. There was only the barest hint of regret in his tone when he said, "What can I say, puddin'? Guess things are different now."
There was no need to decipher the hidden code in those words. She knew exactly what he meant. With a tiny, bitter smile, she looked away from him. "Yeah," she said quietly. "You can say that again." It was a horrible thought, but she almost wished that she'd kept the pregnancy a secret until they'd reached permanent shelter. It had so drastically changed the way they interacted, altering their familiar tolerance of each other's autonomy by raising the stakes so much higher, by changing the very basis of what they meant to one another. Though how could she have known that he would become so overprotective? He probably wouldn't even have predicted it, himself. It was completely new territory for both of them.
But that didn't mean they could allow other people to get sucked into the vortex of their passion, pulled down into that swirling blackness along with them. Innocent people. People like Meg, who deserved to be walking and breathing and probably, if she had her way, smoking a cigarette right now. And instead, where was she? Killed in a needless crash, her body alone and deserted on a dark, freezing night in the middle of the wilderness. Kate felt like her chest would explode under the pressure of the helpless rage that consumed her.
"She didn't have to die, Sawyer! We could have bargained with him... We could have at least tried to cut some kind of deal! It might have worked!"
"And what if it hadn't?" he asked sharply. "What then?"
"Then," she said, her voice shaking badly. "We would have been screwed. You're right. But Meg would be alive!" She looked out at the night again, then back at Sawyer with a wild, unhinged despair. She felt like she was in a nightmare, where nothing made sense. "None of this ever should have happened. We shouldn't even be here! Why the hell did I go to Tennessee that night... What was I thinking, coming to you for help? I knew all along I was making a mistake."
She paused briefly, the need to hurt herself becoming almost as powerful as the need to hurt him. Dropping her tone to a malevolent lowness, she stared straight into his eyes and hissed, "I should have gone to Jack."
The change in his expression was so subtle, so restricted to his eyes, that someone who knew him less intimately than she knew him might not even have detected it. But to her it was obvious, and she knew just how to interpret it. It was the same old fear, repressed yet never vanquished, always ready to sneak up on him again when the opportunity presented itself - the fear that he was, and would always remain, the second choice. The fear that he was worthless, and inadequate, and temporary. Kate recoiled in horror from her own words, but it was too late. And now, out of nowhere, she suddenly retrieved a moment from earlier today that had completely disappeared from her mind. In her shock at being shoved from the bedroom of the motor home, and in the resulting chaos that followed, she'd somehow lost possession of it entirely. It only swam back up into her consciousness now, triggered by the visible effect on Sawyer of what she'd just said.
Before the accident, just a few hours ago, he'd told her that he loved her.
She didn't need to search her memory to know that it was the first time he'd said the words. It wasn't as if she'd been waiting for him to... It had never been necessary for them to say things of that nature out loud. They had simpler, more direct and primal ways of communication that worked just as well. But the fact was that he had said it. And now, she felt like maybe a part of her had been waiting for it, without even being fully aware.
Of all the times, though, for him to say those particular words, that was the time he'd chosen? Had he already known, when he said it, what he was going to do to her? Probably. That bastard, she thought, trying to call back her anger. It was all she had left.
In the few seconds it had taken for her to reclaim this nearly-lost fragment from earlier in the day, Sawyer had managed to channel his startled hurt back into the more comfortable modes of sarcasm and bitterness. He tilted his head back, smirking a little, pretending that he was amused by this. "Hell, Freckles, no need to sugarcoat things. Why don't you tell me how you really feel?"
The need to punish herself was all of a sudden overwhelming. Her vision became wavery as she tried to hold back tears. "I hate you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
Sawyer's smile became even more contemptuous at this, but there was also a hint of true admiration for her there, perhaps even affection. She got the vague sense that maybe he was enjoying this on some level, which pissed her off even more. Slowly, he moved toward her. She took a step backward, but the solid, rutted wall of the cave stopped her. Leaning in toward her, Sawyer rested one arm on the rocks next to her head. She could feel the heat from his skin.
"Say it again," he said quietly, like this was a game.
"I hate you," she repeated with slow, deliberate emphasis, wishing with all her heart that it was true, that she didn't mean exactly the opposite, and that he didn't know that she meant exactly the opposite.
Sawyer was delighted with her new secret code. His dimples seemed to be mocking her, his face just inches from hers. "I hate you too, sweetheart."
She was never able to determine which one of them moved first. Maybe it was simultaneous, like two magnets released a short distance from each other at the exact same instant. All she knew was that one second they weren't touching, and the next they were, with a vengeance. Her lips were smashed against his with bruising intensity, and every time they moved apart slightly and then back together, she scraped herself against his teeth, on purpose. She wanted him to suffocate her, to smother her, to choke her with his own tongue. She didn't care whether she got any air or not. She didn't deserve any.
He scraped the rough stubble of his face against her chin, then her neck, as they shrugged their coats off. Burying his hands in her hair on either side of her face, he gripped her head firmly and began attacking her mouth again. Dizzy with loss of oxygen, Kate let herself go limp, like a rag doll. With tingling arms, she shoved her hands up under his shirt, taking a few seconds to simply run her fingertips along his midsection, caressing the taut outlines of the muscles there. Then, with no warning, she dug her fingernails in, hard, scraping a line from the top of his chest down to his stomach. She felt him tense up and draw in his breath sharply, pulling back a little from where he'd begun pistoning kisses along her neck. In a flash of retaliation, he yanked her shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor.
She was pressed harder against the wall as he lowered his head to her breasts, and she closed her eyes, feeling her bra go the way of her sweater. The combination of the cold rocks against her back and the burning heat of Sawyer's mouth as it closed around her was intoxicating. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked on it, causing him to clamp down on her with his teeth, which was exactly what she'd wanted. As she increased the force of her pulling, he increased the pressure of his biting, until she arched her back in pain with a strangled gasp, feeling it reverberate throughout her entire body. She hoped he could taste blood.
Not understanding how he'd done it without her noticing, she realized that he'd worked her jeans down to her knees. Distractedly, she kicked them off the rest of the way, then reached for his waistband, tugging until the button popped open and she could work the zipper down. He wasn't wearing underwear. Why the hell wasn't he wearing underwear? she wondered. He raised his head up and grinned at her slyly, as if he'd done it on purpose for a surprise. Damn, he was good at this. Or maybe she was just really bad at doing laundry. In any case, it had worked out well for both of them.
She was overcome by a sudden sense of urgency, and her eyes gleamed with a self-destructive, desperate edge. Sawyer wasn't ready yet, and neither was she, but that was why it was important to start now. Her hand reached down and closed around him, and she gripped as hard as she could, tugging a little at the same time. She could see a muted surprise and confusion on his face as he leaned in to kiss her roughly again, but it wasn't his face she was worried about, and the rest of him responded just fine, with no delay. He suppressed a groan as she released her grasp and raised her hands to his shoulders, indicating that she wanted him to lift her.
"You sure you don't want to move this closer to the fire?" he said, brushing his mouth against her ear.
"No," she said emphatically, almost panting. "Right here. Hurry." She wanted to feel the rocks jutting into her back, scraping her skin.
Sawyer didn't argue. His hands closed around her waist and lifted her slightly off the ground. He tried to lower her slowly, but she forced her hips down in one deliberate movement, wanting to impale herself. Pain ripped through her again, and even before the echo of her cry had died out, she leaned back against the rocks, pulling Sawyer closer so that there wasn't an inch of space between their bodies. She began to move in a rocking motion, picking up speed immediately, forcing him to keep up. She could sense him holding back a little, which they'd been doing, without actually discussing it, ever since the pregnancy was confirmed. No matter what the books said, it just felt safer. But tonight, she didn't care. She needed to feel him driving into her as hard as he possibly could. She wanted it to hurt.
Despite Sawyer's apparent misgivings about the wisdom of all this, his reactions made it clear that he was only a man, and Kate's strange, emotionally unstable behavior was an undeniable turn-on. If this was what she wanted, then he could sure as hell supply it. They were too far into the game for any kind of rational thought to prevail. His thrusts were as hard as he could possibly make them, and still she wanted them to be more brutal, more violent. They were both bathed in sweat now, their skin colored by the flickering orange of the campfire in the center of the small cave. Kate watched their shadows on the other wall, the giant distortions appearing to be that of some undulating, primordial beast. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see it anymore. Both of them were breathing raggedly, and Kate's features were contorted into a mask of calculated, willfully achieved agony.
She lost track of time, going into a kind of trance state where nothing existed except pure physical sensation. After who knows how long, she felt by instinct that Sawyer was going to reach the peak before she was. Good. She wasn't going to let herself, anyway. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve it. Repeating it over and over to herself like a mantra, she felt Sawyer go rigid and lift her up tighter against him, his arms locking around her hard enough to cut off her breath again as he gave a muffled yell. She didn't deserve it. She didn't... Oh, God damn it, she thought, as her body suddenly tensed up of its own volition against his last few lunges, betraying her, overriding all the pain she'd achieved with concentric pulses of pleasure while she threw her head back with a long, shuddering, somehow defeated moan.
Sawyer's knees were giving out, and as he sank toward the ground, she slid down with him. He kept his arms around her, attempting to keep her skin from scraping the rocks. Collapsing exhausted onto the stone floor, they sagged against each other, trying to catch their breath. In the back of her mind, where emotions weren't formed into actual thoughts, Kate felt like a failure. She'd wanted some part of herself to suffer and to die, like Meg had. And all she'd succeeded in doing was making herself feel even more vibrantly alive. Which, in the most annoying irony ever, was probably just what Meg would have wanted.
Choking back sobs that she knew were soon going to overtake her, she pulled away from Sawyer and hurriedly began yanking her clothes back on, then her shoes. He watched her, concerned. With shaking arms, she wrapped her coat around herself, brushing the sleeve across her eyes, trying to keep it under control for a few moments longer. "I'm going out for a minute," she said.
"Kate," he said softly, starting to move toward her, unable to bear the torment on her face.
"No," she said quickly, warding him off with her hand. "Don't. I'll.." Her voice broke, and she tried again. "I promise I'll be back soon. Okay?"
Although it took an effort, he kept his distance, finally giving her one simple nod in a gesture of understanding. She had to give him credit for not intruding, for knowing when to back away and give her her space.
Turning away from him, she left the warm, lighted interior of the cave and rushed out gratefully into the freezing night.
There was something refreshing about a long, drawn-out, uninterrupted cry. By the time her grief-stricken weeping began to taper off, Kate already knew that she would be okay. Even if she didn't want to be, she would. Meg's last stern warning to never apologize still echoed in her ears. And though she wanted to scream out at the top of her lungs how sorry she was, she wouldn't allow herself to. She could at least keep that promise. It wasn't easy, but she could do it. And maybe, soon, the raw, aching misery and guilt would even fade into something she could live with, something that wouldn't stab her with remorse a hundred times a day. If the past was any indication, it would happen sooner than she preferred.
She washed her face in the stream, the water so bracingly cold that it actually burned. Then she approached the cave again, their temporary home, stopping just inside the entrance. Sawyer was staring into the fire with a look of profound, unrelieved sadness. She took a step closer, and he glanced up, noticing her with relief. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, her nose red, but she seemed to have achieved a measure of peacefulness. They looked at each other without saying anything. Kate moved toward the fire and sat down across from him, folding her legs underneath her. She held her hands out toward the flames, warming them.
Letting a decent interval elapse, Sawyer finally broke the silence. "Don't suppose there's any chance you stopped by Taco Bell while you were out, is there?"
She smiled weakly, still looking at her hands. "They were closed."
"Damn," he said, giving her a gentle smile in return. He appeared to remember something, and he reached into his coat, hopefully. Kate watched him. From the inner pocket, he withdrew the flask, satisfied that nothing had happened to it over the course of the day. Uncapping it, he took a swig, grimacing just a bit at the taste. As he lowered it, a thought occurred to him. He looked at Kate with a meaningful grin. She stared back at him, a slow, knowing smile transforming her features. Everything about this was oddly familiar.
"This remind you of anything, sassafras?" he drawled.
She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her arms on them. "Yeah," she said, clearly pleased at the memory. Almost in a whisper, she added, "Seems like a long time ago."
He thought about it. "Wasn't that long. Couple of those things I can think of that haven't changed yet. I still ain't ever seen you wear pink."
Amused, she said, "Yeah, well... Don't hold your breath for that one."
He smiled and took another drink. After considering, he said with a pointed look, "And I still ain't ever been married. So I guess we both got some projects left to work on."
Kate's smile faded slightly, and she looked away from him into the fire, with a regretful air.
Changing the subject, Sawyer said teasingly, "All right, so tell me the truth now. That day you chased me down in the jungle, offerin' up your services for hire... Did you think there was just the slightest chance you might get lucky that night?" His eyes twinkled at her, playful.
Kate rolled her eyes, but she seemed to find this funny. "We barely even knew each other!"
"Well, now... that wasn't exactly answerin' the question," Sawyer said with raised eyebrows.
She laughed, but seeing that he still waited for a response, she bit her lip, feeling her face heat up just a little. "I was... open to the possibilities. I won't lie and say I wasn't." She looked at him with an air of mock chivalry. "But you were a perfect gentleman."
"I knew I shoulda gone for it," he muttered, shaking his head with remorse, while Kate laughed again. "Look at you, blushing," he said, staring at her. "Hell, don't forget what Meg always said, Freckles. Ain't no shame in it."
For the first time tonight, the thought of Meg didn't cause her the sensation of somebody plunging a knife into her heart. She smiled sadly. "I'm really gonna miss her."
Sawyer sighed, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Yeah," he agreed, a shadow passing across his face.
Kate was quiet for a minute. "I never got a chance to ask her about being the godmother. I don't know why I didn't do it sooner."
Sawyer glanced up at her, and then back at the fire. She caught the slight signals in his expression that indicated he was holding something back from her. "What is it?" she asked hesitantly.
He struggled for a few more seconds, but finally came to a decision. "I asked her. Today."
Narrowing her eyes in confusion, Kate said, "When?"
"While you were asleep. I know you wanted to do it yourself, but the damn woman got it out of me. Pretty sure she musta worked for the Soviets at some point in her life."
Kate processed this new information. It was so unexpected, like getting a second chance that she hadn't at all expected. "What did she say?"
Sawyer took another drink. "She said yes," he said quietly.
Feeling tears threaten to well up again, Kate swallowed, forcing them back. "Well..." she said with a trace of bitterness. "So much for that."
For awhile, they didn't talk. Sawyer got up to throw more wood on the fire. The flames leaped toward the ceiling, sending up sparks that blazed bright and then disappeared into thin air. It was warmer in here than they'd hoped for. The interior of the cave trapped the heat and held it surprisingly well. Sawyer even took his coat off, bundling it up behind him to provide cushion against the log he was leaning on. He'd dragged it in for firewood, but had decided it worked better as furniture. If only it could have functioned as food, too, he would have been perfectly content. His stomach apparently agreed with this thought, because it chose this moment to growl. Loudly.
Kate was balancing her chin on top of her folded arms. She lifted an eyebrow at him.
"It was my stomach," he said defensively.
"I know that," she said, smiling. A thought occurred to her. "Hold on." She dragged her backpack nearer to her and opened the front flap, digging around. After a little searching, she pulled out a Hershey's candy bar. "I forgot I had this."
"Where'd that come from?" he asked, intrigued.
"That little store today, the one with the cider. I bought three, but I already ate the other two, on the road." She seemed a little embarrassed. "I've sort of been getting... chocolate cravings lately. I know it's weird," she said, even though Sawyer didn't seem to think it was weird. In fact, it seemed to have some kind of secret meaning for him, though she had no idea what that meaning might be. She touched her stomach. "I've always loved chocolate, but I've never really craved it before, until now. I think maybe she..." Here she bit her words back, abruptly, looking alarmed at what she'd started to say. Hastily retracting, she corrected herself. "I mean, I think the baby wants chocolate."
She should have remembered, of course, that Sawyer never missed anything. There was no way to con a con-man. He leaned forward, his attention rapt. "Did you just say she?"
"No," Kate insisted.
He ignored this answer. "You think it's a girl, then?"
She started to deny her verbal slip for a second time, but then sighed. "I don't know. Maybe. But I'm probably wrong," she added, almost as a warning.
It was clear, though, that Sawyer didn't think she was wrong. And truthfully, she didn't think she was wrong either. She watched him taking in this fact, absorbing it. His eyes took on a far-away aspect as he stared into the fire, his face gradually assuming that softened, vulnerable, caught-off-guard look that she so rarely got to see. There was both fear and wonder in his expression. When he looked like that, she wanted to call him James. She wanted to make sure nobody would ever hurt him again for the rest of his life. She wanted to marry him.
What she did was hold out the candy bar. "Here," she said. "It's all yours."
He looked at it, then back up at her. "You keep it."
Closing her eyes briefly in annoyance, she said, "Sawyer... You're hungry. I heard your stomach."
"I ain't that hungry," he argued. He lifted the flask. "This here's like a meal in itself," he said comically, taking another drink.
"Would you please just take it?" she insisted, still holding the candy bar toward him.
He refused. "You eat it. You need it more than I do, girl."
Kate gave a heavy sigh. Irritated, she tried to think of another way to get him to give in. He was just so stubborn. True, she was the one carrying a child, but that didn't mean she couldn't look after herself. If she was hungry, she would eat. She didn't need somebody else to advise her. She opened her mouth to say some of this out loud, but for some reason, the words died in her throat. He was looking at her as if he couldn't believe she was really there, as if he had to keep staring at her to prove it to himself. There was a fierce protectiveness evident in his gaze, but instead of bothering her, for the first time she felt the value of it. And although the explanation was a simple one, the reason for this change in him had never occurred to her until now. She suddenly understood that this was the first time in his life that he'd ever had something to take care of... something to protect. His actions in the RV earlier were the only ones possible for him. It now seemed a little ridiculous to her that she'd asked him to bargain with Paul for her safety.. to bargain for her life. He would give up his own life before he would stoop to that. And she hadn't even appreciated it.
Staring down at the candy bar, she made up her mind to accept it. But more importantly, she decided to accept what it stood for, what he was trying so hard to offer her, what he'd been trying to offer her for a long time now, if she was honest with herself. Resistance had been a point of pride, but she'd been dragging her feet, still living in the same world they'd left behind in Tennessee. Their world was different now. The trial period was over. She couldn't even begin to imagine a future without him anymore, and she hoped she would never have to. What they had together felt more permanent than anything she'd ever known in her life. And he was the last person in the world she'd ever expected to find it with.
"All right," she said, returning the Hershey's to her backpack pouch. "But I'm saving it for breakfast," she added, just to let him know that she'd eat when she damn well pleased. She smiled at him.
He seemed amused by this, but didn't argue. "Suit yourself."
They watched each other over the fire for a while longer. Then Sawyer lifted his arm in a gesture of invitation. Slowly, Kate pulled herself to her feet and crossed the space to where he reclined against the log. Lowering herself to the ground, she leaned her head on his chest. He put his arm around her and rested his chin on her head. After a few minutes, they both closed their eyes.