Audrey sat in the clearing, hanging her head between her knees, breathing deeply. NSWC had wanted her to wait here, where a helicopter would be able to land and extract her, but she’d refused. How could she sit here for the hour or two it took to get a helicopter, when Xavier was on the other side of the ridge at the bottom of a mudslide?

Was he dead?

She didn’t want to think it. Denial was her friend, but deep down, she knew the odds he’d survived were pretty much nil.

Even if he’d made it down without being crushed by logs or boulders, how would he get out of the pool the slide created?

He’d probably lost consciousness and drowned if he hadn’t been crushed to death.

NO.

She rejected the thought.

Just no. Not her Xavier. Not now.

He was going to be a father.

She thought of how many men had gone off to war, never to meet their offspring. It was foolish to think he’d escaped that fate.

But she had to. Until she laid her eyes on his body, she’d believe he was alive.

She rose to her feet and took a step toward the trail. She should probably eat, but didn’t think she could stomach food right now.

Damned if she ate, damned if she didn’t.

It had taken nearly an hour for her to get here from when she last saw Xavier, but the hike had been more uphill than down.

This was the reverse, and there was new urgency in her pace.

Help was coming.

Now to find Xavier.

She placed her hand on her belly. “Let’s go get your daddy, Fig.”

Audrey stepped wrong on a rock, and it rolled from under her feet. Her ankle twisted, and she went down, landing on the hard ground and sliding down the slope a few feet.

She stifled a sob as her spine let her know how happy it was to be jammed.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity. Fuck.

She’d made good time, but that was because she was moving too fast. Being careless.

Plus, she was light-headed. Probably with hunger.

She was being foolish, something she’d sworn never to do while hiking alone. She knew a thousand horror stories of hikers being careless. She’d been involved in search parties for several.

She took a deep breath and dug in her heels to stop her downward slide.

She had to eat. Not eating was her first mistake.

She pulled out a strip of beef jerky and gnawed on it. Her body flushed with the first swallow. It was a wild sensation, to be so intensely in need of food without feeling even a pang of hunger. The opposite, in fact, as the thought of eating had triggered nausea.

But the baby knew what it needed and was demanding she pay the toll.