Mustang by Mindy Burbidge Strunk

Author:Mindy Burbidge Strunk [Strunk, Mindy Burbidge]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FiveJoys Press
Published: 2020-08-11T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

It was amazing how much better he felt after having a decent meal. His steps were stronger, and he felt lighter. If he just knew what was bothering Manda, everything would be near perfect—aside from being stranded in a possibly hostile country with no plans for extraction.

Both he and Manda had taken it easy on the rabbit, purposely not overstuffing themselves. Neither of them wanted to get sick after having eaten so little the previous two days.

They were making good time, putting distance between them and the boxcar. There had been nothing to indicate they were being pursued, but he still couldn’t help but feel relief that they were on their way.

He glanced over at Manda. Her head was down as she watched the game trail in front of them. Something was weird between them. The morning had started well enough—he’d even caught appreciation in her eyes when she saw him with his shirt off—but sometime between that and breakfast, things had shifted. She was quiet, only talking when answering a question. Her answers were short, and she didn’t elaborate at all.

Anders couldn’t think of what had changed. The only interaction they’d had was when he’d protected her from, well, a rock. But he hadn’t known that at the time.

Maybe that was the problem. Was she just mad he had thought she needed the protection? It was in line with her personality.

He knew she was a capable woman and a highly trained officer. He could see how his actions might have offended her. But they were partners out here, and partners looked out for each other, right? He winced. Now it just felt like he was trying to justify his actions.

“So…Mustang. I’m guessing your call sign has something to do with the Mustang you drove?” He couldn’t stand this silence as they walked any longer. Maybe if they talked, she would get over her irritation—or was it flat out anger?—over his assumptions earlier.

“Yep.”

There it was, the bare minimum answer. There was definitely something wrong, even though she insisted she was fine. Was that an American thing?

“If America is anything like Fghänor—or even Sweden—then there is always a story behind the call sign.”

Manda nodded. “Yeah, it’s the same.”

Anders waited for her to explain, but she didn’t. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” Yes, he had been trying to sound a little flirty. Not as flirty as it had come out, but he was okay with it.

She glanced over at him. “It’s not really a great story. You already seem to know it.”

He looked at her blandly. “There has to be more to it than that.”

Her tongue ran over her lips. “In the states, some names are given as a tribute, but some as a joke.”

“It’s the same in Sweden.” He grinned and rubbed his hand together. “So, which was yours?”

She smirked at him. “Watch it or I won’t tell you.”

He raised his hands in front of his chest. “Okay, sorry. I’ll be good.”

“You’re right to an extent. But I wasn’t given the name Mustang until after I quit driving the car.

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