Autumn Skies: 3 (A Bluebell Inn Romance) by Denise Hunter

Author:Denise Hunter [Hunter, Denise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2020-10-19T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

He was running out of time. Wyatt stepped over a fallen tree, gave Grace a hand, then continued on the path alongside Pine Creek. The temperature was a balmy seventy-five today, and under the shade of the deciduous trees, it was downright pleasant. The air was filled with the loamy scent of earth. Birds tweeted from the leafy canopy overhead, and a squirrel nattered from the underbrush nearby.

They were high in the mountains now, having been hiking for almost six hours. They only had another hour or so before they’d need to cut over and head back, but he was hopeful because the terrain appeared just as he’d remembered. The only thing missing was the waterfall and stack of boulders. He kept his eyes peeled for them and knew Grace was doing the same.

There’d been a definite bounce in his step all day. He felt ridiculously buoyed to have Grace with him again. He didn’t mind being alone. But hiking without her these past couple days had felt lonely after having her company last week.

Spending more time with her wasn’t smart or sensible. And he could tell himself all he wanted that he needed her assistance, but the truth was, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“How’s your shoulder holding up?”

“It’s fine. The lighter pack helps.”

“And how’ve you been sleeping lately?”

He opened his mouth with a quick reply, then closed it before he answered honestly. “About the same.”

They hiked in silence a minute, then Wyatt held a branch aside for her.

“Molly has some tea she swears by,” Grace said. “She says it knocks her out like a light.”

“Wouldn’t mind trying some.” Maybe it would help ward off the nightmares too. Because knowing what was coming once he closed his eyes served as an effective deterrent. He tossed and turned for hours each night, and the lack of sleep made him less focused and alert than usual. What a disaster that would’ve been on protective detail if he hadn’t been forced to take leave.

He had to resolve this and soon. The clock was ticking. He had to pass that psych eval.

Wyatt stopped when he came to a narrower creek that ran into Pine Creek, cutting off the trail. Water bubbled noisily over the rocks. “Which way?”

“Pine Creek continues that way.” She pointed in the direction they’d been headed and eased her bag off her shoulders. “This is just a tributary, and it comes from the wrong direction, so we can rule it out.”

“That’s something, I guess.” Wyatt dropped his pack and removed his boots and socks. There were lots of rocks, but the shallow stream was at least twenty feet wide, and the water was swift.

Once they’d rolled up their pants and stuffed their boots into the bags, they padded toward the creek’s edge.

Wyatt stepped into the frigid water, testing the bottom as Grace stepped in beside him. “Careful, it’s slippery.”

They took their time, slowing down when they reached the stream’s center. Water hit his calves with surprising force, and he carefully picked his way across, using large rocks as stepping-stones when he could.

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