Page 14 of Torin

“I can walk.”

“No.”

I look up at him.

“You’ve just been knocked out in a car crash.”

“I said I might have been knocked out.”

“That better?”

I almost smile. “A little.”

“I can sleep in the truck and walk in the morning.”

The trace of humor disappears from his face. “You’re not sleeping out here.”

“Why?”

“Because this is bear territory.”

I look pointedly at him.

“Yes,” he says. “Exactly.”

I glance into the trees. Until now, the truck has felt like a problem. Suddenly it feels like an extremely thin metal box in the middle of a forest full of things considerably larger than me.

“What’s six miles down that road?” he asks.

I don’t answer.

“A house?”

I shake my head.

“Cabin?”

After a moment, I nod.

“And you can get inside?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” He looks back toward the forest. “I’ve got a truck. I’ll take you.”

“No.”

His attention returns to me.

“I appreciate it, but I’d rather not get into a truck with a strange man.”

I brace for an argument, or at least a flash of wounded male pride.

Instead, he looks faintly amused.

“What’s your name?”

“Hannah.”