Love without a Compass. Lindy Zart

to cut into my time with them.”

      He shrugs, but guilt lines his face.

      “Last month you told me the wrong time for an important meeting,” I add.

      “That was an accident.”

      “Sure it was. You’re no better,” I finish.

      Fire flares to life in his irises. “I wasn’t trying to steal Callie’s Trinkets’s business from anyone, Avery. You were. I’d already done two campaigns for them.”

      “Well, maybe it was time for a change.” I don’t mean the words, and when I see how they hit Ben, I wish I’d never spoken them.

      He steps back falteringly and turns his back on me. “Yeah. Maybe.”

      I clench my fingers to keep from reaching out to him and turn away. There are more important things to think about than whether or not I inadvertently wounded Ben’s pride—okay, and hurt his feelings. I cringe. And maybe, in a way, somehow, sort of, betrayed him. Being lost is not an option. That is not acceptable.

      With or without Ben’s help, I’ll find the compass and map, and I’ll get to the rest of the group. Except, the whole point of this is to work together as a team. If I show up without Ben, or he shows up without me, we’re done. My shoulders slump. We’re stuck together, which is exactly what Duke wanted.

      I scowl.

      The lodge can’t be that far away. I straighten my spine. Duke said this is a simple quest, and if we don’t show up by the time everyone else does, they’ll look for us. We won’t be lost for long. I can do this. I will do this. We will do this. Nothing is impossible, unless you tell yourself it is. My mom told me that once. I haven’t forgotten.

      I tip my chin and head in the direction I think we came from.

      “Where are you going?” Ben calls.

      “I’m going to find the compass and map. I refuse to be lost!”

      “Great idea. You do that.”

      “I am doing that,” I reply.

      “Have fun.”

      “I will have fun.”

      I glance back. Ben faces me, his arms crossed. The sun blazes behind him in a fiery backdrop. I can’t see his expression, but I’m sure it’s unfriendly. I face forward with a sigh, focusing on my feet as the ground steepens. The air cools as I head farther into the trees.

      5

      BEN

      I rub the back of my neck as I take in the monstrous-sized mountains. Damn, it’s an overwhelming view. Mountains high into the clouds, vast and out of focus. Like a painting—an image I’d rather be looking at on a wall instead of witnessing firsthand.

      I cannot even begin to gauge where we are in relation to the path on which we started, but like Avery, I can’t sit and wait. I’ll look for some trace of other humans while Avery goes and gets herself even more lost. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I ignore the feeling of wrongness that creeps over me as the minutes of our separation grow. It’s her own fault if she vanishes and no one ever sees her again. I tried to tell her.

      Walking a dozen footsteps, I keep my eyes trained on the rocky hill before me, seeing nothing but insects, and a rodent or two. Lots of land, and lots of nothing. My shirt is damp with sweat, the sun unapologetic in its burn. I need food, and a drink or two, preferably of hard liquor. The terrain gets rockier the higher up I climb, and when I reach the halfway point, I know I’m not anywhere I want to be. There’s no trail above me. I skid down the wall and jump back, picking another area of the vast, wooded fortress to check.

      Time seems to drag to the point where I wonder if it’s altogether stopped. We’re supposed to be near Panther Den Wilderness, one of the seven parts of the national forest, but I haven’t seen anything that tells me we are.

      Try as I might, I can’t concentrate, my thoughts spiraling back to Avery again and again. What if something happens to her? When I can’t take it anymore, I look over my shoulder, spotting Avery’s figure as it gets smaller and farther away with each step. Another few feet and I won’t even be able to see her.

      Panic sets in without any warning, and I vault from the rock ledge, tearing through the woods as if I’m afraid I’ll never see her again. I’m not, I just—I don’t want her to be alone if she gets hurt, that’s all.

      “Avery!” I land on a tree limb wrong and it shoots up to smack me in the forehead, adding a sting to the side of my face. I curse and keep going. At this rate, I’ll be horrendously disfigured before nightfall.

      She whirls around, a speck of golden light in the distance. Her voice reaches me before I can make out her features. “Ben? Ben, what is it? Did you find the map?”

      When I’m close enough to see her expression, a fist slams into my chest at the way her eyes are lit up at the sight of me. It makes me feel like an ass, and then I feel like an ass for feeling like an ass.

      “I didn’t.” I slow to a jog, stopping once I’m within a few feet of Avery.

      “Oh.” Avery bites her lower lip, the act sending life to parts I want to remain lifeless. “Why did you come after me then?”

      “I didn’t come after you,” I quickly deny.

      “Right.” She eyes me. “Why are you here then?”

      I look at the world around us, full of creatures and wildlife we can’t even guess at. I shift my gaze to her expectant one. And I tell her why I really raced after her. “We’re supposed to be a team.”

      “So you did come after me.” She lifts an eyebrow and waits.

      “All right, fine, I came after you,” I admit reluctantly.

      Avery turns her face, but not before I catch her smile.

      * * * *

      We’ve walked for what seems like hours—or in my case, hobbled. Not having a phone or a watch, I can’t tell for sure. You would think, at some point, we would meet up with other people. Not necessarily our coworkers, but someone. Unless we’re so completely off the grid, we’re in a place people know better than to go. Which, yeah, sure, why not? That would fit right in with how our day is going.

      If it was any other situation, I might feel a spark of satisfaction at the forlorn expression on Avery’s face. As it is, I wish we were in any other situation. But we’re not. We’re here, together, lost in Illinois country inside of a national forest.

      I look at Avery. Her legs are covered in scratches, her hair looking more brown than blonde from the dirt that’s seeped into her scalp and around the locks. Her makeup is smeared, and faint enough that I see a smattering of freckles coating her nose and cheeks. I didn’t even know she had freckles. She’s an absolute mess—and she’s prettier than I’ve ever seen her, a fact that puts an ache in my temples and in my groin.

      Her face brightens. “Wait! I just remembered! The map! I remember I have the…” She reaches in her pocket, and then the other three. Her shoulders slump. The light fades from her eyes.

      “You have the?” I prompt, already knowing what she doesn’t have. That map is long gone by now.

      “I have nothing. No, wait. I have dirt.” Avery opens her hand, palm down, and brown dust falls to coat the ground.

      “Now what, partner?” I don’t mean to sound sarcastic, but I hear it drip from my words all the same.

      Avery shakes her head, her face about to crumple. She whirls around, holding that pose until I hear a long exhale. When she faces me, her spine is straight, and her expression is fierce. “We keep going until we find a trail, or people. We find something.”

      I have to admire her drive, whatever my misgivings where Avery Scottam’s concerned.

      “Good