I cracked a cynical grin. “Funny how a habit that would’ve killed you in the future might’ve saved us today.”
Galloway smiled. “You have a point.” We shared another heated look.
He watched me as if I were some mystical creature, not a girl who had no idea what she was doing. Everything I’d achieved so far was from pure luck and determination—not skill.
I hugged Pippa, using her as my shield. “We should eat.”
“Yes. Food.” Pippa squirmed out of my arms, plucking two clams and bashing them together.
I glanced at our dwindling woodpile. Now that we’d created the fire, we had to keep it fed.
Ourselves, too.
I pinched the clams from Pippa’s eager fingers. “You can’t eat them raw, Pip.”
Pippa strained to take them back. “They’re mine. I found them first.” Her angry eyes met Galloway’s. “I did, didn’t I, G? Tell her. I want them.”
My head whipped up to stare at Galloway. “G?” My heart flurried. “You’ve already earned a nickname?”
He half-smiled. “Not gonna complain. Besides, I gave her one first.”
Something warm spread across my insides as Galloway smirked at the little girl. “Want to tell them what it is or shall I?”
“No!” Pippa shouted; a mixture of pleasure at being singled out and mock-annoyance for sharing her secret. “Only you can call me it.” Her eyes flashed to her brother. “Co will only ruin it.”
“Will not.” Conner shook his head.
“Will, too.”
Galloway gruffed, “Fine. Pippa’s nickname is mine and mine alone.”
The girl beamed as if she’d been given every toy she’d ever wanted.
The warmth inside me spread into hot heat.
He’d given Pippa something so precious. He’d taken her mind off the loneliness of being an orphan and the fear of being stranded.
He continually surprised me. One moment he seemed as if he couldn’t stand the children. The next he acted as the perfect father and friend.
Galloway hopped up the beach and awkwardly grabbed the dented piece of fuselage that resembled a witch’s hat. “Perfect.”
I moved closer, giving up at preventing Pippa from rummaging in the clam bag. “Perfect for what?”
His face pinched in pain as he hobbled back and placed the piece of metal directly into the fire. The burning wood separated for him as he used his crutch to tap the metal into position, half in the fire, half on top of it.
“What are you doing?”
Instead of answering me, Galloway gave orders, “Conner, go grab some seawater. Use the empty bottles from your dad’s backpack.”
Conner flinched at the reminder of his dead parent but charged off with the three bottles in his arms. He came back just as quickly, his forearms and legs dripping wet. “Now what?”
“Fill up the pot, of course.”
A pot.
God, I’m an idiot.
How else did I think we’d cook the clams? “You’re a genius.”
Galloway cringed. “No. I’m not.”
“You are. Here I was thinking of opening the shells and spearing them onto sticks.”
“That way would work, too.”
“Your way is much better.”
He scoffed but didn’t reply; his eyes locked on the water-filled metal. “We’ll wait for it to boil then put the clams in. It would be better with fresh water, and I dread to think how salty they’ll be, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
Warnings of raw shellfish and food poisoning ran through my mind. “How do we know we can eat these?”
“They’re fresh so that shouldn’t be a problem.” Galloway’s forehead furrowed. “My plan was to boil them like mussels and only eat the ones that open.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“Once it starts to boil, toss them in. Conner and I will be back.” Galloway made his way laboriously to the treeline.
Nerves fluttered. “Wait. Where are you going?”
Conner chased after him. “Yeah, where are we going? I’m starving. I’m going to pass out if I don’t eat something soon.”
Galloway bent over and picked up a piece of fuselage. “You’ll see. I need your help.” Passing the piece to Conner, he grabbed another and entered the forest.
I let them go.
I didn’t really have a choice but curiosity niggled. It wasn’t like me to want to be with someone. Normally, if a person left, I was glad. I willingly let them go as it meant I could regroup and find peace that I couldn’t find in company.
But Galloway was different.
The moment he’d disappeared, I wanted him to return. I felt better when he was around. More alive. More certain. More awake to every sensation.
My tummy clenched as I relived the kiss we’d shared.
His challenge of making me fall in love with him might not be as big a feat as he thought.
And that terrified me.
Pippa tugged my hand. “The water is bubbling.”
Pushing Galloway from my mind, I beamed. “Excellent. Want to help me put the clams in?”
She bit her lip, nodding with utmost seriousness.
“Be careful, it’s very hot.” I was wrong to let a child tend to an open fire with boiling water. But this wasn’t an ordinary kitchen in an ordinary world. This was survival, and everyone had to grow up fast.
Together, we ladled handfuls of the white and orange shells into the boiling water. A few hot splashes singed my knuckles and my legs burned from being so close to the flames.
A strange banging came from the forest, over and over.
What the hell are they doing?
Once the last of Galloway’s haul was tucked nicely in the water, I sat on my haunches and high-fived Pippa. “Great job.”
She grinned.
“Did you really find all of those?”
She grinned wider. “Yep.”
“All forty-two of them?”
“Yep!”
I exaggerated my awe. “Wow, that’s amazing!”
She swivelled her foot in the sand with sudden shyness. “Will it be enough?” Worry etched her young skin. “I’m so hungry. I want them all.”
“It will be enough for tonight. But tomorrow, we can all go and find lots more. How about that?”
Along with an armful of coconuts so we have additional liquid.
She pondered for a moment. “Can I find them with G?”
G.
My heart turned into a tambourine, shivering with a happy tune. “Of course. We’ll team up. You and G against Conner and me. We’ll have a race.”
“I’ll win.”
“Oh, I have no doubt.” I tickled her tiny chest. “You’re the wonder gatherer. Clam extraordinaire.”
She giggled.
“Don’t tell her that.” Conner appeared with the two pieces of fuselage. They were almost as big as him. How he managed to cart them when running on dregs of energy and protecting his broken wrist, I didn’t know. “It will only go to her head.”
Pippa stuck out her tongue. “You’ll see. I’ll win. I’ll find all the clams and you won’t have any.”
Conner blew a kiss at his temperamental sister. “But you’ll share with me, right?”
She crossed her arms. “Nope.”
“Oh, come on, Pip. You have to.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You love me. You wouldn’t let me starve, would you?”
Galloway chuckled, following Conner with a lot less grace than he left with. His forehead glistened with sweat, his back rolled, and he hopped with a wince.
What the hell had he been doing?
Galloway muttered, “She won’t let you starve. Will you, Pippi?”
“Hey. You said you wouldn’t tell!” Pippa’s eyes glowed with indignation.
Galloway didn’t look well as he forced himself to act shocked and contrite. “Whoops, sorry. Oh well, your secret is out. But it’s safe with Estelle and Conner. Isn't it, guys?”
We all nodded. “Of course. Cross our hearts.”
Conner and I laughed as we both drew a cross on our chests at the same time.
Galloway attempted to chuckle but everything about him echoed agony. He looked worse than when I’d found him leaning against the palm tree with his broken ankle swollen and useless.
Leaving my post by the boiling clams, I moved toward him. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t make eye contact. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, my God.” I snagged his free hand. “You’re bleeding.” Cuts marked his strong fingers. A nasty gash split his palm. “What were you doing?”
“Making something.”
“I doubt it was important enough to kill yourself over.” I counted five cuts on his left hand alone. “We’ll have to look after these.”
“Later. Let me go, woman.”
I had no choice but to follow him to the plastic-wrapped branches where Conner had dug out a small trough in the sand directly below the funnel. The plastic was tight with collected water.
My mouth begged at the thought of a glass of ice-cold H20
Galloway nodded in approval. “Great, now put the catchment down.”
Conner did as he was told, wedging the fuselage into position.
Once it was in place, I understood what they’d been doing. What the rhythmic banging had been. “You made that?”
Conner looked up. “Yep. Well, Galloway did.”
“How?”
“With a rock and a lot of elbow grease.” Galloway leaned heavily on his crutch. “Do the other one, Conner.”
Conner climbed to his feet and repeated the process, digging a hole to keep the trough upright and wedging the metal into position beneath the burgeoning funnel. The metal had transformed into a pockmarked container with sloping sides and a big enough surface area to hold litres of water. Our own personal reservoir.
Is it safe to drink out of metal from an aircraft?
Worry tainted my joy. Who knew what the metal was coated with or what nasty chemicals would seep into our water supply.
But like Galloway previously said, ‘beggars can’t be choosers.’ It was this or no water or cooking facilities.
I choose this.
Regardless of the consequences.
Once secure, Conner stood and Galloway held out his hand to me. “Swiss Army knife, please.”
I pulled the lifesaving tool from my short’s pocket. Pressing it into his palm, I suffered another electrical jolt as his fingers brushed mine.
He smiled (more like grimaced) in thanks and hopped toward the plastic. He cursed under his breath.
I stepped forward. “What’s up?”
He spun the knife in his grip. “To extract the water, I either have to unwrap the tree which would potentially lose a lot of liquid or cut the funnel and pour out the gathered supply. The only problem is once it’s cut, the water won’t gather as there’ll be an air gap.”
My mind raced with solutions.
I yanked off my second-to-last hair-tie from around my wrist. “Can you secure it with this?” I looked at the metal container below. “It doesn’t have to be strictly water tight, right? The droplets that escape will be caught.”
I didn’t mention the fact that the sun would dry up any liquid almost as fast as they dripped. Now was not the time.
Galloway said, “You’re right.”
“Great.” I passed the tie to him. “All yours.”
He eyed my tangled blonde hair. “Why haven’t you been putting your hair up? Aren’t you hot?”
My skin danced beneath his gaze, loving the way he studied me and terribly self-conscious, too. I had no makeup on. No beautification of any kind. He saw me at my worst—my sun-bleached, windswept, island-crashed worst.
Oh well, he can’t see all that well.
Perhaps, he’d missed the salt-tightness of my skin or the shininess of greasy hair.
What an awful thing to think.
It must be horrid not being able to see with clarity. I wished he could see me. See the honest to God’s truth of who I was so there was no denying he’d accepted me for me and not some hazy, unfocused version of what he wanted to see.
I couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. “My hair is the only sunscreen I have for my shoulders and neck. I’m hot, but at least I’m not as badly burned as I would be if I tied it up.”
Having earned his answer, he turned away and poised the blade over the end of the funnel. I moved closer, taking his crutch as he balanced and pinched the plastic.
With utmost care, Galloway nicked the bottom. Instantly, a stream of collected water poured into the awaiting metal below. A few droplets splashed onto the sand, absorbing instantly, but the majority made the most satisfying splash.
“Crap, I need a drink.” Conner fell to his knees. “One taste. Please?”
Galloway growled, “Grab the bottles and fill them up. We can’t be stupid with the small amount we have.”
Conner obeyed instantly. Galloway hadn’t been angry, but he did command a certain kind of reverence.
While Conner carefully held the empty bottles in the trough, filling them one by one, Galloway and I moved to the poncho collection.
With bleeding hands, Galloway nicked the funnel, and once again my heart leapt at the delicious flowing water. It took every willpower not to face-plant and slurp up every drop.
Galloway secured the funnel with my hair-tie and swiped sweat off his forehead. The sun had just set, leaving us in twilight. “Well, that’s that.”
Pippa darted over as Conner screwed the caps on the bottles. Yesterday, they’d been empty, and I’d been at a complete loss how we’d ever refill them. Now, they held life-giving liquid.
I would forever be grateful to Galloway for giving us that precious reprieve.
We weren’t dying anymore.
We would survive long enough for rescue to find us.
Because of him.
He’d created water from nothing and found food from nowhere.
Compared to what I’d contributed, that was everything.
Conner and Pippa immediately shared a bottle, swigging mouthfuls, groaning with contentment.
Galloway took the other full one and passed it to me. I shook my head, forcing it back to him. “No, you hurt yourself making this possible. Please, I insist.”
He looked as if he’d argue, so I took matters out of his control. Snatching the bottle, I unscrewed it and held it to his lips. His eyes widened as he watched me with blazing awareness. Slowly, his lips parted and allowed me to tip the bottle so water cascaded into his mouth.
Something hot and fierce sprang between us.
Something so intimately sexual about feeding another.
Something so raw and primal.
My core melted at the thought of replacing the bottle with my lips and kiss kiss kissing him. Kiss him so hard. Kiss him so gratefully. Kiss him just for the sake of being alive and being able to kiss him.
His hand came up to curl over mine, steadily draining half the bottle before tugging and guiding the rim to my mouth. Completely bewitched by him, I opened and never looked away as he tipped my share down my throat.
I moaned.
How could I not?
The water was too warm, slightly plasticy, and held a faint taste of evergreen but it was the best, most delicious water I’d ever had. And the fact that the most courageous, mercurial, complex man had sourced and fed me every drop made my heart sing with possibility.
I didn’t know who ended the spell, but the bottle switched from full to empty and we were down to one.
I could’ve drunk ten more.
But for now, it would have to do. The throbbing headache from lack of hydration faded a little as my body greedily accepted its gift.
I licked my bottom lip, savouring the final taste. “Are we ready for dinner?”
The children fell dramatically in the sand, holding their grumbling stomachs. “Yes! Feed us.”
I laughed.
Galloway flinched as he inspected his hands.
I’ll take care of him after we’ve eaten.
Together, we headed back to the pot of cooked clams.
As the sun set on our third day, I vowed that tomorrow would be better because today was better than yesterday and this week was somehow better than the last—even though it was so incredibly different.
Our lives had changed so much, but we’d found we could survive it.
“You did a really good thing today,” I whispered as Galloway tore open the shell of a steaming clam and slipped it into his mouth.
The children devoured theirs. The food hit my stomach, spreading its happy welcome through tired, starving muscles, and little by little, smile by smile we left the shadow of death.
He looked at me but didn’t speak. But his gaze said a thousand things.
We did a really good thing.
We can do this.
Together.
Chapter Twenty-Four
...............................................
G A L L O W A Y
......
THE SMELL WAS what killed me.
The rotting, sickening stench.
My hands ached from using a rock to hammer the fuselage, the cuts on my fingers stung, and my ankle...crap, my ankle felt ten times worse.
All I wanted to do was sleep.
To rest.
To heal.
The clams had scratched the intolerable itch for food and the third shared water bottle had tempered my thirst for a time.
But I’d meant what I said about Estelle avoiding the dead. I didn’t want her or the children going anywhere near them. It was bad enough Conner and Pippa had seen their parents after the crash.
It would be million times worse if they saw them now.
I stood over Akin.
His neck had broken. The sudden arrival had sent him smashing through the cockpit windscreen. A spider crawled from his nose and his black hair was matted with dried blood.
Christ.
The moon barely made it through the canopy. There were no rainclouds, no hint of a storm. Fiji was supposed to be tropical, but for days, we’d had no rain.
Luckily, my imperfect eyesight wasn’t too much of a hindrance. All I needed to see was the silhouettes of trees and enough illumination to dig three graves before the sun came up.