August 28th
Ryan
I watch the firelight flicker on Ana's face as she concentrates on the marshmallow at the end of her stick. The sun set about an hour ago and the shadows accentuate her coloring. Her hair is down, dark curls fading to black as they cascade over her shoulders. Her dark eyebrows and irises stand out against the golden glow on her face. Her lips curve into a small smile as she turns her marshmallow over.
I still believe that you're a hero, Ryan Burke.
Her words from five days ago haven't stopped echoing inside my head. I'd told her what happened the day all my friends died. How I couldn't save them. How they'd died waiting for me to bring them more ammunition. How their deaths were my fault. But despite all that, she still believed in me. Believes in me.
I never could have imagined how much those words would affect me. After so many years blaming myself, I've found someone who knows the whole story and doesn't think I'm to blame. Someone who thinks I should be awarded. The way she makes me feel just by looking at me is... incomparable. I've never felt so at home with someone.
And she's so beautiful.
Ana's eyes flick up to mine and I freeze.
"Your marshmallow's on fire," she says matter-of-factly.
With a jerk, I pull the flaming marshmallow away from the small bonfire and blow it out. I glance back at her and she does her best to suppress her smile.
"I like the burned ones," I lie.
"No you don't," she says with a laugh.
"Yes I do. They're my favorite," I say, going for playful rather than defensive.
She sits back on the log she's using as a seat. "Is that so? Then why aren't you eating it?"
In response, I pull the marshmallow off the stick and pop it in my mouth.
After a moment, she begins to laugh again. "I can see you, you know. I can tell you haven't chewed or swallowed it. Are you planning to wait until my back is turned to spit it out?"
I don't respond.
"Oh for goodness sake," she says. Ana clamps her marshmallow roasting stick between her knees as she reaches for the graham crackers and chocolate between us. She hands me a piece of each.
"Here," she says. "Try using these to mask the flavor, you big baby."
While I eat the s'more, she constructs her own and takes a bite, getting sticky marshmallow all over her face and her fingers.
"These are so good," she says, licking her fingers. "S'mores are the ultimate camping food."
There's still some marshmallow and melted chocolate at the corner of her mouth. My first thought is to reach over and wipe it off. My second is to kiss it away. Before I can get any more bright ideas, I point to her mouth and say, "You've got something there."
She makes a face at me. Then, while holding very deliberate eye contact with me, she licks her lips slowly.
I feel heat rising into my face and I look at the dog lying near Ana's feet. She was just trying to be funny, I know. She couldn't have meant for that to be as sensual as it was. I know there's no way she'd be attracted to me. I know she's not the type of person to lead me on or try to manipulate me like Saph. I need to remember that she's not into me, that this, that us, can never be a thing. It's getting terrifyingly easy to forget that.
"It's getting cold out here," Ana says as she rubs her arms and pulls her jacket closer. "It's not supposed to be 50 degrees in August. This is unnatural."
"I thought it got cold in deserts at night," I say, trying to act much calmer than I feel.
She crosses her arms and gives me a frown, but her eyes are smiling as she says, "Don't you use your logic to poke holes in my complaints. That's just rude!"
I cross my arms and screw up my face in an exaggerated impression of her. She bursts out laughing, startling Casper. He stares up at her with his ears pricked. Ana rubs his head between his ears and he tries his best to lick her hands, which probably still smell like s'mores. Ana stands and gathers up the food.
"Come on, Casper, it's time for bed. We've got a big day tomorrow at the river."
She takes the dog inside while I stare at the glowing coals. This is getting out of hand. If I can't get a better grip on my emotions, she's going to notice something. I scrub my hand across my face. Why did I have to invite her to stay here in the first place? I should have known I'd fall for her - the first woman since Afghanistan to look me in the eyes without cringing.
"Can you take care of putting out the fire?" Ana asks.
I hadn't even noticed she'd come back outside. "Yeah."
I stand reluctantly and pour water on the fire, quickly extinguishing the flames. The yard is plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the cabin windows. While I'm stirring the ashes to uncover any remaining hot embers, Ana stops in her tracks and cocks her head.
"What's that noise?" she asks.
I listen for a moment and scan the surroundings, but between staring at hot coals and the dim lighting, I can't distinguish anything.
"I don't hear anything," I say.
"There it is again," Ana says, spinning. After a moment's pause, she lets out a horrified gasp and leaps back. She charges at me and hides behind me, her arms snaking around me and squeezing tight. She begins to drag me back toward the cabin.
"What is it?" I ask, feeling confused and disturbed by her heightened fear, but also distracted by her closeness.
"It's a bear. Ryan, there's a bear. It's right there. Oh my God, Ryan, there's a bear!"
Her voice is filled with panic. I loosen her grip on me and try to calm her down while keeping us moving toward the cabin.
"It's OK, we're going to be OK. We just need to go back inside now and we'll be fine."
We reach the porch and I lead her up the stairs. I look out across the yard one last time and finally see it: a very large grizzly bear. I've only been this close to one once before and I was nearly bear lunch that day. Ana's panic is suddenly quite understandable.
I pull us inside and close the cabin door. I take a moment to calm my own pounding heart from the bear encounter, then I turn to her. Here in the light, I can see she's completely pale and beginning to tremble slightly. She's also clinging to my damaged arm as though her life depends on it. Can she feel how misshapen my arm is? Any mushy thoughts I had in my head from her sudden display of devotion instantly disappear.
"What if it tries to get in here?" she asks, her eyes wide. "What if it tries to break through the door?"
"It won't. It's probably more interested in the fruit in the garden than the cabin."
"Can't you just shoot it?"
"What am I going to do with a half-ton bear carcass? Besides, it's not hurting us. It's just wandering through. It'll leave soon."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure." I pause and eye her death grip on my right arm. "Can I have my arm back?" I ask.
"Oh," she says, and lets go of me.
When I try to fall asleep that night, my thoughts are racing far too quickly. All I can think about is Ana, in her sheer panic, attempting to drag me to safety. Clearly she's terrified of bears. But instead of running for her life, her first instinct was to rescue me.
The irrepressible grin spreading across my face disgusts me. I am too old and too experienced to be blushing and smiling over a girl like this. What has Ana done to me?
August 29
Those thoughts kept me up half the night and still run through my head now as I surreptitiously study Ana from behind the book I'm holding. We're at the river, both fishing lines cast and the poles dug into the bank. She's reading a book that's clearly captivating her, judging by the myriad of expressions that cross her face as her eyes scan the pages. I've forgotten what book I've been pretending to read. I glance back at it and try to focus on the words. My lack of sleep from the previous night makes the words swim across the page before vanishing entirely as my eyes slide closed. I'll just rest them for a moment.
Memories of Ana clinging to me last night continue to play behind my eyes. The memory begins to change: instead of clinging to my arm, she was nestled into my chest, one of her hands on my shoulder blade and the other in my hair, massaging my scalp. And I was holding her too, my right hand on her shoulder and my left at her waist. I dropped kisses on her collarbone. Then her neck. Then her jaw. She looks up at me and I pause, staring into her eyes. Slowly, her eyes close as she leans into me, her face turned up to mine. At the last moment, I close my eyes.
Our lips meet, hesitantly at first. Then she deepens the kiss and I respond, pulling her closer and returning her kiss with more passion. When we at last break the kiss, she looks up at me with a tender expression in her eyes and a smile on her lips. She's blushing and a little breathless. She's gorgeous.
I smile back at her and open my mouth to say "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." But instead of words, all I manage is a slight humming noise deep in my throat that startles me back into reality.
I open my eyes to see the blue Alaskan sky above me. I was asleep? That was all a dream? The disappointment would be overwhelming if it weren't for the memory of our imaginary kiss still lingering in my mind.
"Good dream?"
My eyes snap to Ana, who's sitting next to me and staring at me. I stare back at her with an expression that probably resembles terror. For the briefest instant, I think she knows what happened in the dream and that I enjoyed it immensely.
"You were smiling in your sleep," she explains.
"Was I?" I ask, trying to sound confused. Which isn't entirely an act.
"Yeah." She looks out at the river. "I'm happy for you. Good dreams aren't very common for us." She looks back at me, her expression a little sad. Then she smiles. "I spent last night dreaming I was one of the Three Little Pigs while the Big Bad Wolf tried to blow my house down, except the Big Bad Wolf was a bear and I was Goldilocks." Her eyes shift off to the side and narrow slightly in concentration. "And the bear wasn't blowing my house down, he was bashing the door in. And I wasn't blonde." She looks back at me, her expression clearing as she gives a shrug. "That's dream logic for you. So what were you dreaming about?"
I thought I'd gotten off the hook when she'd started talking about her nightmare, but now I'm right back in the fire. I look around wildly for inspiration, not about to tell her what I actually dreamed of. My eyes settle on the fishing rod and I nearly give an audible sigh of relief.
"That I caught a fish."
She scoffs. "Really? That's all it takes?" She shakes her head at me. "Well, they do say men are simple creatures."
She turns back to her book and I almost sigh again. She bought it. I shove my nose back in the book I wasn't reading earlier and the memory of the dream returns full force.
You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that. I realize just how true that statement is. How long, exactly, have I been feeling this way toward Ana? Weeks? Months? Pre-Afghanistan Ryan would never have pined for a girl this long. He either would have made a move or lost interest by now. Talking to girls was never hard for me. Not until this girl. I peek over the edge of the book at her then quickly back down.
What am I doing? Sneaking glances at her, hiding my feelings from her, dreaming of kisses but never making a move? When did I become such a coward? Why am I so afraid of losing her?