Before I Ever Met You

I swallow hard at the thought. I just want to go back to the hotel. Even a hospital bed wouldn’t be that bad. After all that just happened, the last place I want to be is here, overnight in the wet, soggy, and endlessly dangerous wilderness.

“If it comes to that, I’ll make us a shelter. If someone here was doing the whole trail, they might be able to lend us a tent. There’s a real sense of camaraderie here when this kind of thing happens. We’ll be okay. I’ve got food in my backpack. It’s a bit wet but it will dry out.” He pauses. “The worst is over. I’ll take care of you.”

I’m not sure that the worst is over. But the fact that he said he’ll take care of me, that’s warming my chest, easing the shivers that have been rocking through my body ever since he pulled me ashore.

Eventually I find the strength to sit up, then stand up. With Logan’s arm on me at all times, he leads me back over to the crowd. Everyone is super friendly and concerned and preparing for a night at the beach. The stream is still raging, even higher than it was earlier, which means that the rains won’t let up for a while and there’s no way we could cross it on our own until tomorrow.

The hikers on the other side of the water are almost all gone except for Nikki and Daniel. When they see me alive and on my own two feet, they literally jump up and down, hugging each other, before they turn and head back on the trail to go back to the hotel and tell everyone what happened.

It’s not long after they leave that a couple of rescue workers and a lifeguard from Ke’e appear on the other side, but with the water still raging, they can’t cross. There’s a lot of yelling back and forth over the stream as they tell us that we have to stay put. The helicopters are having trouble in the weather and none of the zodiacs can brave the surf. Unless the wind and rain ease up before nightfall, we have to prepare for a long night.

Luckily there are a few hikers who had come back along the rest of the eleven-mile trail and have a few supplies. There are no tents for Logan and I, but they do have a small tarp for us to rig up somewhere to keep out of the rain, as well as an apple, trail mix, and packet of beef jerky. Not exactly dinner but at least we won’t starve to death. Besides, I’m pretty sure if either of us felt adventurous after all that, we could probably hike into the bush and grab some wild mangoes or papaya. I make a note of asking Logan later if he can climb up some coconut palms.

“Keeping dry is the most important,” Logan says as he grabs my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine. His palm is warm, his grip strong. He holds my hand like he means to save me.

He leads me up a small path, away from the stream and the rest of the group. “Even though it’s warm and humid, the constant rain here can make you nearly hypothermic. You’re already cold from being in all that rainwater in the stream.”

“So are you,” I tell him quietly as we walk further into the jungle, my hand still in his.

“I have chest hair,” he says. “I’m insulated.”

He stops and gestures to an area where the cliff walls come into the path and a large, broad-leafed tree acts as an arch over it. “Here. There’s dirt there that’s somewhat dry. We can hang the tarp from the tree. With the overhang from the cliff, it’ll create a bit of shelter. I’ll start a fire, and we’ll be dry in no time.”

He turns to walk away. “Just stay here, the path up there leads out of the valley, it’s wet and steep and dangerous.”

Like I’d go anywhere, I think as I sit down on the narrow patch of dry red dirt by the cliff wall. My hand feels bare without his, my skin tingling.

He disappears from sight and it’s only then that everything hits me. What happened, where we are, what’s next.

But it’s not even the ache in my muscles from the hike, the bruises that are popping up on my limbs from slamming into the rocks, the cold that’s starting to seep into my bones, despite the fact that the temperature is at least in the late 70’s.

It’s not even that I’m going to be stuck in the wilderness overnight, waiting for rescue.

It’s that for the next twenty hours or so, I’m going to be alone with Logan. Sleeping with him, even.

And there’s nothing scarier than that.

Because there’s a small, terrifying chance that I actually might like it.

I can only hope he doesn’t feel the same way.





10





When Logan comes back from the others, he’s carrying some matches, sticks, a few logs and a small white square.

“What’s that,” I ask, nodding at the square.

“Firestarter,” he says, placing it on the dirt in front of my feet. “Light this up and almost anything will burn. Found some relatively dry kindling as well. It won’t last all night but it will get us dried off. As long as the wind doesn’t pick up, the tarp will hold and keep us dry.”

I nod, biting my lip for a moment. “Have you ever been in a situation like this before? I mean, stranded in the wilderness kind of thing?”

“You think this is a regular occurrence for me?” he asks, cocking one brow as he eyes me.

I shrug. “Well you’re Australian, didn’t you hike into the outback and wrestle crocodiles on the regular? I’ve seen Crocodile Dundee you know.”

He watches me for a moment before getting all the kindling together. “You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?”

“When aren’t I?” I tease.

He places the white square in the center of the sticks and strikes a match. The second the match meets the square, it goes up in bright flames.

“Whoa. That stuff works,” I tell him.

He murmurs in agreement. “And to answer your question, yes I have been in situations like this before. In Australia. My brother is a tour guide out of Darwin. I may not be Croc Dundee—God forbid that bloody name is even mentioned in my country—but if anyone is like that, it’s him. He’s dragged me out on one too many adventures.”

“You have a brother?” This is the first I’d heard of this.

“Kit,” he says, adjusting the kindling so it will catch. “About five years younger. The same difference as you and Juliet.”

“He wasn’t at the wedding,” I note. Come to think of it, I don’t think any of his family was. It was just hard to notice since there were so many people there I didn’t know, thanks to the reach of my mother. Talk about wedding of the century.

“No,” he says. “He wanted to but finances were tough at that time for him and he wouldn’t let me pay his way. As for my parents, I only have my mum and she’s not doing so well. She’s suffering from a whole whack of autoimmune disorders and flying does a number on her.”

“Oh,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry. I had no idea…”

“That I even had a family?” he asks, glancing at me quickly before putting a few logs on the fire. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. I reckon I know a hell of a lot more about you than you know of me.”