“I think cocoa would be perfect. A hot cup so I can sleep.” She doubted she could do so even with the warm drink. She couldn’t remember ever sleeping with someone in the same room with her. The idea made her feel slightly ill.
Nicolas pulled out the MRE, a sealed bag of prepared food the military provided for troops in the field. “There’s plenty of food, Dahlia.”
“Is it edible?”
“I eat it all the time.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “That isn’t saying much. You probably would eat lizards and snakes.”
“They can be quite tasty, cooked the right way. I often ate snake with my grandfather on the reservation where I grew up.”
He didn’t look at her, but kept busy preparing their meal. Dahlia had a better sense of him now. The conversation seemed casual enough, yet something in his voice told her he was imparting information he rarely shared with anyone. He was wearing only a pair of jeans. His bare chest was bronzed and heavily muscled. She couldn’t help her gaze straying occasionally in his direction.
She cleared her throat. “Your grandfather raised you?”
“I never knew my parents. They died shortly after I was born. Grandfather was a spirit guide and believed in the old ways. It was fun growing up with him. We spent months in the mountains tracking animals and learning to be a part of nature. He was a good man and I was lucky to grow up with him.”
“You must have learned a lot from him.”
“Everything but the one thing that mattered.”
The regret in his voice was genuine and it tugged at her. “What would that be?”
“How to heal. I know all the chants and the right herbs and plants, but I just don’t have the gift the way he did.” Nicolas divided some of the food and put the rest away. He had the feeling they might need it later, and he believed in being prepared. “He taught me that all lives are important and before we learn to take life away, we should learn to give life back. And he could. You should have seen him. He was a good man, highly educated. He also knew the history of my people and the old ways. He respected nature and life and he could bring harmony to a chaotic situation just by being there.”
Dahlia sighed. “He sounds like a very intriguing man. I had Milly and Bernadette. Bernadette was the medicine woman in the bayou. Quite a few of the locals would come to ask her to help them. She delivered babies and treated all sorts of things, mostly with plants and herbs. She was a trained nurse, but she told me her early and best education was here in the bayou with another woman who knew medicine. She taught me quite a bit. I liked being in the bayou, out in the open, away from everyone.”
She had to turn away from him, away from grief and anger. She had to be in control at all times, as long as she was in his company. He helped ease the bombardment of energy, but more than once, Dahlia had lost control and others had suffered the consequences. “I’m very tired. Do you think we should take turns being on guard?”
“I doubt it’s necessary. There are enough natural alarms around us. We’d both probably wake up immediately. I sleep light.”
She didn’t doubt that he slept light. There was something very self-contained about Nicolas Trevane. He exuded confidence and authority. “I’m going outside for a few minutes. If something does happen tonight or tomorrow, there’s a boat tied up just around the bend. It’s old and it leaks, but it has gas in the motor and will get you out of here.” It was one of the many avenues of escape she kept out of necessity.
“We’re sticking together, Dahlia. I hope you don’t think you’re going to hightail it out of here and go after Jesse on your own.”
She shrugged. “We’re adults, Nicolas. I have to do what’s right for me, and I guess you have to do the same. I’m not leaving Jesse behind, and I’m not about to ask you to risk your life going after these people to get him back.”
“My job is to keep you alive and escort you back to Lily. I guess we’re going in the same direction.”
“There’s a small condo in the French Quarter Jesse showed me once. We can go there. There are clothes and money and ID stashed for me.” She opened the door, let the sound of the rain into the small cabin, pausing in the open doorway to stare out into the bayou. “Do you think they know who you are?”
“I doubt they’ll ever find out,” Nicolas said.
Dahlia took a deep breath as she stepped outside, closing the door behind her. The rain had lessened in strength, falling in a light drizzle. The moment she was alone, she sagged against the wall of the cabin and pressed her hand to her mouth, afraid she might choke. She’d never been so off balance in her life. The man had risked his life to save hers. He’d hauled her through the swamp and provided clothes and food for her. She couldn’t very well run off like a rabbit because she didn’t know how to be in the company of people.
Maybe it was his company she was afraid of. She’d never had such a reaction to anyone before. She wanted to put it down to extreme circumstances, but Dahlia knew herself far better than that. She’d lived most of her life under difficult conditions, and she’d never had such an awareness of a man before.
Determined to get through the rest of the night without making a fool of herself, Dahlia went back inside quickly. Nicolas was the type of man who would come looking, and she didn’t want that. There was dignity in returning on her own, unafraid, or at least giving the illusion of being unafraid.
Dahlia went directly to the mattress. She wasn’t going to be a baby about sharing the only place he could stretch out in either. That, too, was beneath her dignity.
“You want the wall or the outside?” He didn’t look at her, giving her space.
Her first inclination was to take the outside, but he was far better with weapons, and she was smaller. She could easily crawl off the mattress without disturbing him, whereas he didn’t have a hope of doing the same. “I’ll take the wall.” She hoped she didn’t suddenly develop claustrophobia.
Nicolas waited until she was lying on the thin mattress. He knew what it took for her to allow him to have the outside. It was more practical, but she had spent her life away from people, living a solitary existence, talking only to a couple of older women and Jesse Calhoun. Nicolas wanted a long talk with Calhoun. The man had to have been working for the same people who had used Dahlia as an operative. Just what had they been using her for?