She nodded and headed up the dark road, praying they could find a place to rest and get warm. Fifteen minutes later, they’d passed a tiny booth at the entrance to the campground and came to a cluster of small, freestanding cabins.
“Oh my God,” Savannah breathed. “I was beginning to believe I’d imagined them.”
Ian swept the buildings with his flashlight and walked behind one to look down the row. “They’re all the same.” He pointed to the third in a row on the opposite side of the road. It was set a little farther back against the trees. “This one.”
He circled the building, checking the front door, then the windows—all locked. A rustle and a minute later, he appeared at the front door, opening it from the inside.
Relief tingled through her belly “How’d you do that?”
“Jimmied a window.”
“What about your bad knee?”
He shrugged. “I have another one.”
When she stepped into the small space, Ian closed the door behind her. The flashlight illuminated the space. “Not bad for an impromptu visit.”
“Not bad for a planned visit.”
There was one big bed against the back wall, positioned under the window Ian had come in if the screen on the floor was any indication. And it was made up with blankets and pillows. The front of the cabin had been set up like a living room with a love seat and a lounger. A two-person table sat next to a tiny kitchen area.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” he asked her.
“Bad news?” Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t take any more bad news.”
“Then let’s just get it out of the way,” he said. “There’s no electricity.”
She exhaled in relief and eased to a seat on the sofa. “Hardly the worst thing I’ve heard today. What’s the good news?”
“It’s got an older water heater that doesn’t need electricity to operate.” He grinned. “And the propane tank used to heat it is full.”
Excitement burst at the center of her body. “We’ll have hot water? Are you serious?”
“In about twenty minutes.”
“That’s downright civilized.” She pulled out her phone, checking for a signal. “But…still no service.”
“Me either,” he said. “I tossed my watch onto the roof. If it’s working, if it can pick up a signal, my team will find us.”
“If, if, if…” She sighed. “I guess I’ll take them. Better than a definite no.” She patted the sofa. “Come sit. Let me look at your head and your knee.”
He pressed his hand to the arm of the couch, put his weight on the other leg, and eased onto a seat next to her. Turning the flashlight upside down, he set it on the floor. The beam hit the ceiling and dispersed, filling the cabin with soft light.
The relief of having a safe, comfortable place to rest sank deep into her bones. She cupped his face, tilted his head down, and fingered away the hair around his injuries. “What do you think Sam’s got Jamison doing now?”
“Hmmm. My guess? Jumping on the bed of the closest motel, face covered in camo grease.”
She smiled at the image his words created. “Your team would go to a hotel?”
“No, just Sam. They’d want Jamison to get some sleep.”
“Why Sam, not Everly?”
“Sam’s naturally better with kids.”
“Your lump has gone down, and your cut isn’t bleeding anymore, but I think you’re going to need stitches.”
He winced. “Can’t wait.”