Page 93 of Nothing But Air

“In the meantime, we keep him from getting anyone killed.” Teague’s grin returned.

“You say that like it’s easy. This may not be the time for your ridiculous level of optimism.”

“You’re just a pessimist.”

“I prefer ‘realist.’”

“That’s what all the pessimists say.”

That grin again.

They ate lunch in silence—trail mix and jerky washed down with filtered water that tasted of minerals. Marcus sat apart from the group, food untouched. Xander checked the climbing gear with methodical precision.

And Teague sat close enough to Eden that their shoulders touched. A steady warmth she was trying very hard not to become addicted to. But would that be so bad?

Maybe she’d been too hasty in comparing him to Landon. Landon had always been about the danger for the sake of the thrill. Teague only sought danger to protect—to save.

I made sure you were safe. I won’t apologize for that. Ever.

The memory of the words still sent a thrill down her spine. She had never felt more protected, more safe with another human being.

She had definitely opened the door. But could she go all in? For the first time in a long time, the thought didn’t come with the thread of fear.

An hour later, they were on the trail again. Just the two of them.

“You know,” Teague said, breaking the comfortable silence, “this was supposed to be straightforward. Find some caves, locate Roosevelt’s cache, reopen the campground. Maybe get a medal.”

“You wanted a medal?”

“I wanted the option of a medal. There’s a difference.”

She laughed—a real one that surprised her. The sound echoed off the canyon walls, startling a lizard into a crack in the limestone. “And now?”

“Now we’ve got a radio on the fritz, a guy with secrets, and a few injuries plaguing us.” He grinned. “So much for straightforward.”

The trail wound through juniper and sage, the scent rising around them in the afternoon heat. A hawk circled overhead, riding the thermals with effortless grace.

The next climb was shorter—eighty feet to a cave entrance that looked more like a shallow overhang from below. Eden led, moving with confidence that was slowly returning to her muscles and mind.

The rock was solid under her hands. Good edges. Bomber jugs. The kind of features that inspired trust. She placed protection methodically, each cam sliding into cracks with satisfying precision.

No second-guessing. No panic. Just movement and breath and the simple joy of solving problems in vertical space.

Teague followed, his movements careful but steady. She caught him wincing when he reached too far, but he didn’t slow down.

They reached the cave together, and Eden checked it first. Her headlamp cut through the shallow space.

Empty.

“Nothing.” She backed out. “Maybe ten feet deep. Natural formation. No signs anyone’s even been in here.”

“That makes three caves and nothing to show for it.” Teague sat on the ledge outside the entrance, legs dangling over the edge. The canyon dropped away before them, the afternoon light painting everything gold. “Only two more caves after this. If Liam’s team doesn’t have any better luck, then?—”

“Then we go back to the map, find more options and keep looking.” Eden settled beside him, close enough that their thighs touched. “There are many more caves.”

“Ever the optimist.”

“A couple hours ago, you said I was a pessimist.”