Come Whatever Storms by J.M. Snyder

Author:J.M. Snyder [Snyder, J.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2014-06-22T22:00:00+00:00

Court was glad Bree had the gun. Every noise spooked him now that Ronnie was gone. The wind through the trees and rustling leaves masked the sound of approaching feet sneaking up on them. The tent protected him and hid anything that might be creeping up from behind. He jumped when a twig snapped, when the small stream nearby gurgled, when a bird called on the wing. “What was that?”

“Calm down,” Bree told him. The gun was tucked into the waistband of her jeans, where the denim pouched away from her lower back. She sat just outside the tent, nursing a small fire over which she warmed another can of soup. Court worried the gun wasn’t accessible where it was, but even though he knew he could reach forward and grab it if he needed to, he also knew he didn’t have it in him to fire the damn thing.

Better she have it than him. He was likely to shoot his other leg the next time a branch scraped across the roof of the tent.

“Whatever got those guys up the road is still out there,” Court warned. He didn’t feel she was adequately scared enough of the possibility of an attack. Did the gun make her feel secure?

If so, maybe he should ask to hold onto it. Lord knew he needed something to keep him sane until Ronnie returned.

With her back to him, Bree stirred the pot of soup on the open flame. “If it’s an animal, Adam says it’s probably too full to hunt again so soon. Plus it stashed some food away for later, so the chances of it bothering us are moot.”

“What if it isn’t an animal?” The moment the words were free, Court regretted them. He didn’t want to imagine any person creating the carnage he’d seen at the roadblock. His mind refused to go there.

Bree gave him a sardonic look over her shoulder. “Adam says it had to be an animal. Something wild, maybe even rabid. Something hungry, at any rate. And full now, so we’re safe.”

Court didn’t dare hope she was right. “Until it wants to eat again.”

“Adam says—”

“When?” Court demanded. “When did Adam say all this? I didn’t hear it.”

Bree ducked her head, but not before Court caught a glimpse of a grin and faint blush coloring her cheeks. “We talked, okay?”

Something in her evasive answer made him press, “When? While I was out?”

Suddenly the soup boiled over the small pot, sending smoke hissing from the flames. Bree hurried to pull it off the fire, her hand hidden in a brightly-colored kitchen mitt that looked incongruous in the middle of the woods. “Shit,” she muttered as she fanned the soup, as if that might settle down the liquid.

“It’s cool,” Court told her. “I don’t mind if it’s burnt.”

She threw him a dirty look. “It isn’t burnt.”

He watched as she poured the soup into the upright Thermos. The soup was a pale, greenish color, viscous and thick. Celery soup, most likely. Court didn’t think

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