His eyes drew open. “Hi.”
“Good morning.”
He kissed her again, before glancing at his watch.
“Let me guess,” she said, and then tilted her face up, pretending to smell the air. “It’s seven.”
He laughed. “Six forty-three. Not bad.”
Leo’s hands slid down her ribs and along her waist, coming to a gentle rest on her hips. He hummed in appreciation, kissing his way to her neck, pausing to gently nibble on the skin there. Her mind became fuzzy along the edges as she imagined how easy it would be to spend the rest of the day like this.
Unfortunately, her bladder had other ideas, and nothing on the trail was ever as simple as running down the hall to the bathroom. Lily groaned, letting her head fall to his chest.
“Later,” he said, palm flat and warm on her breastbone.
She felt Leo’s eyes follow as she dragged herself from the warmth of the sleeping bag and out to where her clothes were scattered across the buckled wood floor. She heard shuffling and looked to see him propped on his elbow, watching her without an ounce of shame.
“You going to treasure hunt like that?” She stepped into her underwear, slipped the straps of her bra over her shoulders, no longer self-conscious.
“Maybe.” He lifted his chin, motioning for her to continue.
She pulled her jeans up over her hips and his hand slipped so casually below the fabric of the sleeping bag that she wondered if he even realized he was doing it. She wanted to catalog the way he looked at her, the heat of his gaze, the way she felt almost drunk with the weight of his attention.
And as much as she’d like for it to continue, she reminded him why they were there: “That stump isn’t going to find itself.”
With a groan, he climbed from the sleeping bag. They split up and hurried through their morning routines. Thankfully Lily had perfected the art of peeing outside and washing with nothing more than a little biodegradable soap and water.
Clean and packed again, they met out front, where disappointment immediately descended. Grass and weeds and clumps of sagebrush crowded the small building, but it was clear there weren’t any stumps.
“This can’t be right.” Lily pushed aside the limbs of a leggy creosote bush to get at the ground below. Straightening, she turned in a circle, tapping a finger against her thigh.
“We know it’s the right place,” he said. “Your dad’s initials are in there. This cabin is right at a bend in the river, too. Isn’t that what you said he means by ‘the belly of the three’？”
“We could be at the wrong belly, but why would ‘Duke’s tree’ be somewhere else?” she asked herself. “He was here all the time, and it’s not like there are a bunch of cabins everywhere. What am I missing?”
She walked farther into the clearing, her footsteps startling a canyon wren picking through the brush. She reached for her backpack. “Come on.”
Leo didn’t hesitate before swinging his own pack on and falling into step beside her. “Where are we going?”
She pointed to the canyons ahead. “Up.”
He followed her gaze. “Oh.”
“Just so you know,” she said, visually scanning the landscape for the easiest path forward, “I’d never let a group of tourists do any of this, but I need a better vantage point.”
“I’ll be sure not to mention it in my Yelp review.”
Fortunately, the washout curved upward with plenty of hand-and footholds, and enough ledges that they managed to get to the top without too much trouble. They were only about fifty feet in the air, but they could make out some of the river and the snakelike canyons that surrounded it.
“Would you get service up here?” Leo asked.
“Sometimes,” she hedged.
“I’m wondering if we can get a satellite map to load.”
She pulled the Ziploc bag free, tucking the gun into her waistband for the moment, and dug her own satellite phone out. After a few attempts to power it up, she realized the battery was dead. She must have forgotten to turn it off in her haste to move everything over to a new bag. “Shit.”
His brows came together in a frown and then, “Would Terry’s still have power?”
“Oh my God.” Lily found it and pressed the power button. Neither of them breathed until the tiny satellite image loaded on the screen. They both whispered celebratory curses, and quickly high-fived.
“I think I understand Bradley’s love for gambling now,” he said, laughing. “Every tiny bit of encouraging news is like a shot of dopamine straight to my brain.”