Jack drew in his breath sharply.
Oh, no. She’d guessed wrong.
“Yes, Canada, but where exactly?” he said. “We’re probably going to have to hike out. It would sure help to know approximately where we are.”
Darcy searched her memory, but her thoughts kept getting muddled. “I’m sorry.” She started to cry.
“Don’t worry.” He pulled the blanket under her chin. “We’ll search for the map and compass in the morning. It’s too dark to look now.” He backed from under the tree and added a branch to the fire.
His words comforted her, taking the worry away. The heat of the fire was making her sleepy. Her lids drooped.
“Here.” Jack shoved a lump of something into her hand.
She struggled to wake. “What is it?” Only the words came out murky.
Somehow Jack understood. “Chocolate. Sorry, it’s a little bit melted from being in my pocket all day.”
She couldn’t take his food. “We’ll share.”
“I already ate my half. Go ahead.”
She let the rich confection melt on her tongue. It reminded her of home just a little. Mum. Papa. How much they loved her. How Papa had agreed to let her pursue her dream, and Mum had accepted Jack. How deep their love must be. How much she loved Jack.
“I’m sorry, Darcy.” His ragged voice cut through the pleasant memories. “I should never have brought you on this flight. It was too dangerous. Please forgive me.”
She had to tell him it wasn’t his fault. “No.”
His head bowed, dejected.
Oh, dear. He thought she wouldn’t forgive him. “No, not what I meant.” Her tongue had thickened, and the words came with greater difficulty, but she had to tell him. She couldn’t let him take the blame. “Jack?” Her voice sounded far away. Like she was walking down a dark tunnel of pines, their boughs heavy with snow.
“Stay with me, Darcy. Hold on.”
She moaned. The pain was overcoming her thoughts. She had to say it now before she forgot.
“I have to tell you,” she mumbled.
“That can wait. First, I’m going to check you for injuries. Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.” She could barely say the word, but that wasn’t what she needed to tell him. She had to let him know she’d caused the crash.
His hand ran over her head. “Bit of a bump here, but it’s not bleeding. I’m going to check your arms now.”
She felt him run a hand down each arm.
“Your right leg,” he said. “Can you move it?”
She tried, but the pain brought tears to her eyes.
“May I check to see if any bones are broken? I promise not to touch above your knee.”
She nodded, and he proceeded to check her shin and the movement of her limb.
“Twisted knee, if we’re lucky.” He replaced the blanket. “Get some rest.”
“Jack.” She had to tell him. She couldn’t let him go to sleep thinking he was at fault.
“It can wait until morning. You need to rest.”
“No.” She grabbed his shirtsleeve, the urgency giving her clarity.
He removed her hand. “Sleep.”
“My fault,” she blurted out. “I forgot. I forgot.” She couldn’t get the words out in any order. “The oil. I forgot.” A sob seized her entire body, but with it came the pain, wracking her so hard she could only gasp. “I forgot…to strain…it.”
He sat back on his heels with an oomph.
He hated her. She’d ruined his dream with one silly error, and this time it couldn’t be fixed. No transatlantic attempt. No prize. No record. Everything he wanted was gone because of her. All the money. All the effort. All the hope. Gone. She’d been so focused on what she wanted that she neglected his dream. If she truly loved him, she would have put him first. And that conviction hurt worst of all.
His jaw worked as he stared past her into the darkness.
She closed her eyes, unable to watch his pain, fighting the darkness that threatened to engulf her. The last thing she heard before dropping off was his footsteps.
He’d left her.
Chapter Seventeen
The next time Darcy awoke, a dim, gray light filtered through the trees. Morning. The stillness of the forest was broken by the twitter of an occasional bird and the faint rustle of squirrels and chipmunks in the undergrowth. At home, those would be comforting sounds, but here they reinforced the cruel fact that she and Jack were stranded far from civilization.
Her knee still hurt, but her head had cleared enough to remember it all: the crash, telling Jack her error and his walking away. That ached worse than the knee.
Had he left her to fend for herself? He wasn’t under the hemlock. She pushed to a sitting position, and Jack’s leather jacket slid off. That’s what he’d laid over her, not a blanket. He’d given up his jacket for her. The ache grew worse.