Whatever doubt she’d seen had turned to concern. “What about ID?”
She patted her pockets. Nothing in her jeans pockets, front or back. One jacket pocket was empty. The other... She pulled out a small wooden box, rectangular in shape. It looked handmade, with perfectly cut pieces of wood joined together, a polished patchwork of varying shades.
She turned it over. A minuscule crack circled the longer sides, close to the end. A seam between pieces of wood? Or the edges of a drawer? She tugged at it, then frowned. If it was a drawer, it wasn’t budging.
Tanner held out a hand. “Let me try. It’s probably swollen from getting wet.”
She handed him the box, then stood next to him while he pried and pulled. Finally, he’d worked it open enough to look inside. It was empty, except for some bits of dried leaves. Tobacco?
Tanner brought it to his nose, and his brows knit. When she gave it her own test, a knot formed in her stomach. It wasn’t tobacco. It was pot.
She shook her head. “This isn’t mine.”
Tanner cocked a brow. He didn’t believe her.
Of course not. How could she know she didn’t smoke pot when every memory had been wiped clean? She didn’t have an answer for how she knew, just that she did. “I don’t know why I have this, but I can guarantee you if this box held joints, they weren’t mine.” She frowned. “I have some pretty strong emotions right now, and they’re not good.”
She took what he held and closed the drawer. “Whoever the box belonged to, I’m keeping it.” She slid her hand over the varnished surface, then slipped the item back into her pocket. “This is all I’ve got. Nothing that offers any hint about who I am.”
A chill ripped through her, and a shudder shook her shoulders. He stepped closer to run his hands briskly up and down her arms. “I hope it’s just the wet clothes and you’re not going into shock. We need to get you to a doctor, pronto.”
He took her hand and resumed walking, his gait stiff but fast. “We’ll veer to the left, then double back. We should be able to avoid whoever is after you but still reach the highway.”
She nodded. She had no idea where they were. Ever since her panic subsided enough to think straight, she’d tried to recall the last thing that had happened. An hour later, she still couldn’t remember. And her head felt as if someone had clamped it into a vise.
Whether or not she was in shock, she was freezing. Her drenched jeans leached warmth from her body with every step, and her wet jacket flopped against her torso, pounding the chill deeper.
It wasn’t going to get better. The sun was resting too low to dry clothes or warm bodies. They probably had less than an hour of daylight left. If they didn’t make it out soon, they’d be spending the night in the woods. Another shiver passed through her.
He squeezed her hand, and she gave him a shaky smile. “Thank you for everything. I hate to think what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come along.”
“I’m glad I was there.”
She cast him another glance. “What did you mean by ‘the eighth round’?”
“I was counting the shots. There was a gap after the first eight, then another gap after the next eight. Whoever is after you is using a pistol with a magazine that holds eight cartridges. After the eighth shot, he’d have to refill cartridges or at least change magazines.”
Another shot sounded, and bark exploded from a tree not six feet away. She bit off the scream that leaped up her throat.
Tanner broke into a run, pulling her with him. If their original path took them farther from civilization, so did this one, because they were headed in roughly the same direction. Her hopes of making it out before dark died a quick and sure death.
They crested a ridge and made a diagonal path down the other side. Without slowing, they climbed another slope, then descended, adjusting direction again. The sun sank lower and the shadows lengthened.
Tanner stopped and pulled her down behind a fallen tree. “I think we lost him again.”
She sucked in several gulps of air. “I hope you’re right.”
Their pursuer had firepower, but she and Tanner had agility and stamina. At least Tanner did. Whatever stamina she had was fading fast.
She looked over his shoulder, where the sun had dipped behind the trees sometime ago. Overhead, the sky had darkened to gray blue. Soon it would turn to navy, then black.
He followed her gaze. “We shouldn’t wander around in the dark. There are thousands of acres of forest out here.”
Her chest tightened. Spending the night alone in the woods with a strange man couldn’t be smart, no matter how nice he seemed. Besides, now that the sun was going down, the temperature was dropping, and she was already cold. But Tanner was right.
He pulled a flattened granola bar from his pocket. “Dinner. I’ll share it with you.” He removed it from the wrapper, and when he’d split it, he gave her the larger piece.
Her stomach rumbled. “I’m sure it’ll be the best granola bar I’ve ever eaten.” She hesitated. Did she actually remember eating a granola bar? Could she recall any sensory experiences? No, she couldn’t. She heaved a sigh. How would she ever function as an independent adult if she couldn’t call up something as simple as having a snack?
She shook off the concerns. Only a few hours had passed since she’d hit her head. She needed to give it time. She broke off a small piece of the bar and put it in her mouth, savoring it before swallowing. If she spread it out, maybe it would fill her up.
A few seconds later, Tanner brushed his empty hands together. His portion was gone in two bites. She shouldn’t have accepted the larger half.
“Have some of this.”
“I’m fine.” He patted his stomach. “That totally hit the spot.”
“You’re lying.” She split what she had left and held out her hand. “Take it.”
“You need to keep up your strength.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Rest while I try to find a semiprotected place to spend the night.”
After watching him walk away, she took another bite. Even breaking it into small pieces, the bar went too fast and came nowhere near filling the empty hole in her stomach. She’d eaten almost twice what Tanner had. He must be starving.
Gratitude welled up inside her, thankfulness toward Tanner and whatever force had sent him to her. The chance of anyone finding her before her attempted killer was slim to none. The odds of someone like Tanner finding her were closer to the “none” side. She was really lucky.
Not lucky, blessed.
Where had that thought come from? She apparently had some kind of religious background. She searched her mind, trying to pull out some snatch of memory.
Nothing. If the index cards were there, they were all blank.
She rubbed her arms through the damp fabric
