“I remember we were both barefoot and wore light sundresses with swimming suits underneath to celebrate the return of the sunshine. We were going to set up the Slip ’n Slide in her backyard. But she fell. At first I thought she was fooling around, pretending to be on a balance beam. Her left leg was high in the air and both her arms had flown up like a ballet dancer. Then she slipped. She clung to the log, but her hands couldn’t get a grip. I rushed out and knelt on the log and managed to grab one of her hands, but it was slick with slime from grasping at the log.”

Brynn paused. She could smell the ripe scent of the fast water and wet log and taste the blood where she’d bitten her tongue while grabbing her friend’s hand. She could feel the little hand slip out of hers and hear both their screams. Her scream had lasted longer. Sarah’s had been extinguished as her head dropped below the water.

“The water rushed her downriver. I saw her head bob up five times before the river turned. I crawled on all fours, and my knee slipped. I went over one side of the log, but my foot caught on a branch about two feet below the water’s surface. It stopped me from going completely under. I balanced on that branch and clung to the slimy log. I couldn’t pull myself back up. I hung on and watched as the water moved higher up my body. They say I was in the water for hours. It was so cold. I couldn’t feel my feet or legs. The sun managed to break through the trees and shine on my head and back. It probably saved my life.”

“Who found you?”

“The sheriff’s department. Someone had pulled Sarah’s body out of the river. She was immediately identified, because everyone knew everybody in our little town. When the sheriff notified her parents they asked about me. That’s when the search started. The footbridge was the first place they checked. Her parents knew we used it to cross back and forth to each other’s house even though we’d been told a million times not to. There was a regular bridge and road, but it was at least hundred yards farther downstream. We always went to the footbridge.”

Sarah’s father had destroyed the footbridge the following day. Brynn hadn’t known until weeks after the accident when she’d found herself drawn back to see the place she’d lost her friend. She’d frozen in shock at the sight. Sawdust had still coated both banks where Sarah’s father had attacked the log with his chainsaw. She’d cried at the sight, confused by her anger at the loss of a childhood adventure site and her happiness that someone had taken revenge on the log that killed her friend.

She still felt the bewildering war of emotions.

“Jesus Christ. I don’t see how you managed to cross the other day.”

“I almost didn’t.” Her lips smiled, but her eyes didn’t. She turned to him, studying his reactions. He showed horror, pity, sadness, and…understanding?

“Do you swim?”

“Only if I have to. I made myself learn about five years ago. I hadn’t been in water since that day. I was sick of making excuses not to swim with friends. I even missed birthday parties. One day I was watching a movie on TV about Hawaii and the water was so beautiful. So many shades of electric greens and blues. The movie was about female surfers, and they were so strong and determined. They loved the water. I realized that I’d never get to experience that amazing water if I didn’t learn to swim. So I took lessons at the local pool.”

“And you went to Hawaii?”

“Not yet.” She looked at her hands in her lap. She couldn’t bring herself to get on a plane and fly over that much water.

She felt his steely eyes study her face. “How do you feel about flying?” he asked.

Damn, he was perceptive. “Flying’s great. Flying over water is a different matter.”

He nodded. “I can understand that.”

Brynn squirmed, hating his scrutiny. She’d ripped off a big scab, exposing raw and sensitive skin for his examination. She toyed with the deck of cards, nervously shuffling them. “Now you know my greatest fear, what’s yours?”

He sat straighter in his seat, gaze guarded. She didn’t feel any pity. If she could do it, then turnabout was fair play. It was like playing truth or dare in junior high. How much would Alex reveal?

He rubbed a hand over his mouth and then raked his hair with his fingers. She watched. His black hair was threaded with the smallest touches of gray at his temples. He wore it short, sort of spiky on top. Although three days of hats and hoods had flattened things considerably. A simple run of his hands had things back to normal. She wanted to touch the growth of hair on his cheeks. It was past the harsh stubble stage. It would be soft under her fingers.

Brynn suddenly felt self-conscious. Three days with no shower. Three days of hard exercise in the same clothes. She must stink. She was pretty sure her hair looked OK, because she’d kept it pulled back like always. She rarely wore much makeup because her eyes and eyelashes could hold their own.

“That’s hard to say.”

“Because you’re not scared of anything?”

His eyes pinned her. “No. Because there are too many.”

She blinked.

Not the masculine answer she’d expected.

“What are you afraid of?”

He ran his hand through his hair again. “I don’t know where to start. But I guess I’m not afraid of dying. Not anymore. Been there, done that.”

She studied his face. He was completely serious.

“I’m not afraid of things happening to me. I get more tense, nervous when I think of things happening to the people around me.” He glanced over his shoulder toward Ryan. Brynn could see the sleeping man’s boots sticking out from under one of the thin blankets. She brought her gaze back to Alex as he spoke. “I’m more afraid of what you and he will suffer if we’re never found out here. I don’t care about what happens to me.”