East of Redemption (Love on the Edge #2) by Molly E. Lee Page B

shape. This mountain begs to differ.” She unfastened the tent from the bottom of her pack and held it to her chest. “Are you sure you want me to use this? I feel pretty wretched, with you having to sleep in that.” She pointed to the shelter I’d made.
    “Of course. You aren’t showing anyone how to survive when stranded on a mountainside. Put it up. It still won’t be the most comfortable, but you’ll be warmer and protected from bugs.”
    It didn’t take her long to set up the tent so that it hugged the mountain wall close to where I’d made my own bed, but I could see the effort it took her, the way her arms moved slower than she wanted. The offer to help her set it up was on the tip of my tongue before I quashed the urge. Rain had always taken pride in doing things on her own, and if she needed help, she’d let me know. I’d learned that the hard way when I once tried to show her how to properly cast a fly fishing rod when she was struggling instead of letting her figure it out herself. Her tenacity to accomplish whatever challenge before her had me pining after her way before I’d ever let her know.
    After she finished, she took a seat across the fire from me, instead of crawling in and devouring a bottle of water and MRE I knew she had in her pack.
    The gesture made my chest fill with a heat stronger than the flames I sat next to, and I had the urge to thank her for kindness with my lips. “Raindrop,” I chided instead.
    She settled deeper into the relaxed position she sat in. “I’ll retire when I’m good and ready, Compass.”
    I raised my hands in defense. Stubborn woman.
    “You think Corrine’s team is settling? Or will they keep moving through the night? I’d really rather not have to wake up with them on top of us.”
    I chuckled.
    “You know what I mean.”
    I knew that I’d be thrilled to wake up on top of her, near her, anywhere I could touch her. “No,” I answered. “They’d be suicidal to try that climb at night. Corrine is ruthless, but she doesn’t have a death wish.”
    “Good.” She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on one. Her eyes burned bright with the reflection of the flames in them, and the grin she donned put the light to shame.
    After she’d worn the faraway look for too long, I lightly touched her wrist. “Are you with me?” I asked, wishing I could read her as well as I used to.
    “No.” She smiled. “I was thinking about Brownie.”
    “Don’t say brownies. That’s cruel with how hungry I am.”
    She laughed, and I drank it in. That was the Rain I remembered. Easy, less tense, and with a smile that had the power to get me to say yes to literally anything the woman wanted.
    “ The Brownie, not a brownie.”
    “Oh,” I said and shook my head. Her mind must have been as overrun with the past as mine was. “That old grizzly bear in Montana?”
    “He was such a friendly bear.”
    I shook my head. “Only because dangerous, wild animals have no power against your charms. Seriously, Rain, I thought he was going to eat us that day we wandered off camp to—” I didn’t bother finishing the sentence. I’d made love to her after taking her on a picnic deep in the Montana forest, far from the cabin her parents had rented for the trip.
    “I guess that explains why I always did so well with you.” She laughed again, stopping the memory in its tracks.
    “Ouch.” Her accusation that I was a wild animal was completely on point. I had ensnared her loyalty and then turned on her when she least expected it. Maybe I was worse than the animals she photographed for a living, because at least none of them had hurt her like I had. Thank God.
    “Maybe it’s the trees; they remind me of Montana. The way Brownie had surprised us at a very vulnerable moment.” A flush of red dusted her cheeks, visible only slightly in the glow from the fire.
    We’d barely finished getting our clothes back on before the massive bear had wandered past our picnic