They stuffed equipment and additional layers of clothing into the packs. Currently, the weather was sunny and sixty-three degrees. But in late March, night could fall quick and harsh in the North Georgia mountains. The temperature was forecasted to drop to forty overnight, and they had no way of knowing how long they’d be out in the elements.

She’d paired the same hiking boots she’d probably worn the last time she’d come here with leggings and a white long-sleeved athletic shirt. When she put on the backpack, it came down almost to the backs of her knees. She peeked up at Luke and found him watching her with amusement.

“I would’ve bought smaller backpacks,” he said, “but I have no idea how big this treasure might be.”

“If it’s so large that I have to fill this entire backpack, we’re in serious trouble. Not even a pack mule could carry the volume of this thing.”

His eyes twinkled. “I’ll be the pack mule. You don’t have to carry anything you don’t want to.”

“Not to worry. I believe Fabergé eggs are only about this big.” She held her fingers four inches apart.

He grinned.

Why did he have to look like a model for Patagonia? He was a car-loving ex-con. He shouldn’t look so comfortable in his navy fleece, rugged pants, and lace-up boots.

Was there enough time before sundown for her to twine her hands through his hair and press her body to his—

“Ready?” he asked.

She shook herself from her reverie. “Ready.” She dropped another pin in their current location and labeled it Luke’s Bad Boy Truck. She didn’t want them to get lost in the dark on their return hike.

They set off, making their way around brambles, over fallen limbs, through drifts of old leaves.

“Not even a horse cart could carry the volume of this backpack,” she stated.

“Uh-huh.”

She entertained herself with more and more far-fetched scenarios. “Not even a Mack truck could carry the volume of this backpack.” Crunching twigs. “Not even a train car.” Birdsong. “Not even a Learjet.” Cool breeze. “Not even a rocket ship.”

The sun’s rays danced against textured tree bark. The air smelled of pine. Typically, nature relaxed her. Today, its relaxing properties were directly at odds with the nervousness that had been growing within her all day.

It should take just under thirty minutes to reach the site. She had no idea what to expect. Would they find the treasure? If they did, would Luke leave? If he stuck around, how long would he stay?