Winning Back His Wife by Barbara McMahon

Author:Barbara McMahon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

“HEY in there.” Peter’s voice came from outside the tent. “You two awake?”

Hunter reached for the zipper and opened the flap. “What’s up?”

“John has a large sheet of tarpaulin in the bottom of his backpack. We thought we’d try to rig up some cover and get a fire going. I don’t want a cold dinner. What do you think?”

“I’ll be there in two minutes.” Hunter reached for his poncho and pulled it on. He left the tent, glad for the respite against the feelings he was discovering all over again about Heather. So her story was she left him for his own good.

That made him downright angry. Hadn’t she given him any credit ten years ago to know what he could and couldn’t handle? Or was that her bid for sympathy? Either way, it didn’t work. He still believed when the chips were down, she left him behind. Just as his mother had done.

John was working on fastening a rope on one of the lower limbs of a nearby tree. The space beneath was open and fairly free of rocks and deadfall. Hunter grabbed another rope from a different corner and strung it to a tree. Peter picked up the third and before long the tarp was stretched out, with a downward slope on one edge to shed the water. The area covered wasn’t more than eight feet square, but large enough for a fire and space for them to sit around it. At least there was no wind to blow the rain beneath the covering.

“Now to find enough wood to fuel the thing,” Hunter said.

Heather joined the group. “I’ll search for firewood, if you tell me how to find anything dry in this downpour.”

“Look near the base of large heavily limbed trees, they shed the water away from the trunk,” John said.

“Or beneath large piles of leaves. The top leaves sheet the water away and beneath that layer everything is often dry,” Hunter added. He wished she’d stayed in the tent, but knew better than to suggest such a thing. It was bad enough John knew some of their history. He wasn’t giving rise to speculation from any preferential treatment of Heather.

It was wet and dirty work finding enough dry material to build a fire that would last for several hours. Finally they had a good-size stack of wood.

“I wish we had a stream to wash in,” Heather said, brushing her hands against each other trying to dislodge the dirt and crumbling leaves.

“Hold them up to the rain, they’ll get clean soon enough,” Peter grumbled.

She did so, then stepped beneath the tarp. She was cold. For the first time since she left the tent, water wasn’t splashing on her face, however. If they had a fire soon enough that would warm her up, she’d be fine.

Hunter started the fire, feeding it slowly making sure it would take hold. Several moments passed before it was large enough to begin warming the air. He built it near the high edge of the tarp, to allow the smoke and heat to rise out of the lean-to.

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