Read No Sanctuary for Free Online

wasteful expense, that I should move in with you and get rid of it.”
    “And you,” Rick continued for her, “value your independence too highly—”
    Bert stopped the car.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “We’re there.”
    Rick’s stomach did a small flip, but he managed a smile. “And I was just getting comfortable.” He sat up slowly, keeping the side of his face against Bert. His cheek nuzzled her breast. He turned his head and kissed it. Her nipple was stiff under her shirt. He opened his mouth wide and ran his tongue over the fabric.
    Bert slapped his stomach gently. “Stop it,” she said. “People are watching.”
    Rick stopped. He bolted upright and looked out the windows. Perhaps he’d sensed rather than seen somebody back there in the trees. He stared. Hard. Nothing moved.
    “Just kidding,” she said. She pinched the cloth away from her breast. “Look what you did.”
    His mouth had left a dark wet patch on the blue pocket. “But it felt good, right?” he asked.
    “Feels damp.”
    “Better get into a dry shirt.”
    She gave him a smirk, then took the key from the ignition and rolled up her window. She punched the lock button down. Rick watched her climb out. The back of her shirt was wet and clinging, though not as wet as he’d made the pocket. She swung her door shut.
    The car had stopped in a clearing. Rick saw no tire tracks ahead. There was a heavily wooded slope, dim with shadows. Looking out of his window as he cranked it up, he saw that the clearing provided enough room to allow the car to be turned around. He elbowed down his lock button, then checked the rear doors. They were secure.
    He joined Bert behind the car as she opened the trunk. She gave the key case to him. “Don’t lose it,” she said.
    Her comment triggered new worries. What if he lost the keys? What if they came back here, ready to depart, and the battery was dead? What if the car had two flat tires? What if it was vandalized or stolen while it sat here unguarded for a week?
    So many things could go wrong. They might get through all the camping unscathed only to find themselves stranded when they were ready to leave. By that time, their food supplies would be depleted ...
    Bert reached into the trunk.
    “I’ll get it.” Rick lifted out her pack. He held it while she slipped her arms through the straps. Then he propped his own pack on the edge of the trunk. Bert held it steady. He crouched and found the straps. Standing, he felt the solid weight pressing his shoulders and back.
    Bert took their hats from the trunk and shut the lid. She plopped Rick’s hat onto his head and put on her own. It was a tan, Aussie hat with one side of the brim turned up. It might look silly on some people, Rick thought. On her, it looked great.
    “Now what?” he asked.
    “Now we find the trail and start walking.”
    “Maybe we should spend the first night here.”
    “Sleep in the car?”
    “There’s a thought.”
    “Jean said there’s a nice area near a stream about half a mile from here.”
    “The way she gives directions, it’s probably two miles.”
    “We’d better get moving, then. Need to get there before dark.” Bert dug deep in a pocket of her shorts. She came up with a compass, held it flat in her open hand and studied it. “Trail should be thata-way,” she said, and pointed to the left.
    Rick followed her past the front of the car.
    “Ah-ha!” she said.
    At the edge of the clearing, nailed to a short brown post, were two slats of wood with carved messages. She pointed to the left and indicated that Mosquito Pasture was two miles distant. The other pointed straight ahead. Dead Mule Pass was eight miles in that direction.
    “Encouraging names,” Rick muttered.
    Bert smiled back at him. “You’ll be glad to know we’re not heading for Mosquito Pasture.”
    “Dead Mule Pass doesn’t sound like the Garden of Eden.”
    Bert tucked a thumb under each of her shoulder straps. She flexed her knees and pulled the straps as