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He rose to his feet and brought her a cup of water. She took it and he saw her hands shake when she lifted it to her lips.

He got the ibuprofen from his pack and held out three tablets.

“Really, I’m…” She rolled her eyes at the look on his face. With a sigh of resignation, she took the tablets, swallowed them down with another gulp of water.

Dec sat down put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him.

“I don’t want to delay us.”

“You won’t. Just give the tablets a couple of minutes to do their job. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, with a quick smile.

He smoothed his hand over her hair. He’d factored a lot of things into getting her to safety. Time was quickly becoming the most important one. If she was sick, if he couldn’t get her to the extraction site…

No. He wasn’t going to think that way.

She was tired. Her muscles were protesting all the walking and climbing and riding. All the sex. The ibuprofen would kick in and she’d be fine. He just had to help her keep it together until he got her to the extraction point.

Minutes slipped past.

Annie showed no sign of moving. Dec checked his watch. Unless they got started soon, they’d be late for the pickup.

“Honey? We have some travelling ahead of us. We can rest after that.”

“Of course.” She stood up. “See? I’m good. The ibuprofen did the trick.”

He didn’t think so. She was wobbly and she still didn’t look right, but what choice did they have?

He mounted the horse, got Annie up behind him.

“Any time you need to stop, just let me know.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle. “Stop worrying about me. Really. I feel much better.”

It was a good line, but Dec didn’t believe it.

No question, something was really wrong because within minutes, she was leaning against him. Her body seemed almost boneless. And she felt warm. Too warm.

His heartbeat stuttered.

She couldn’t be ill. Not now. Not when he had yet to get her home.

* * *

He took three-minute breaks every half hour, seating Annie in whatever shade he could find on this increasingly arid stretch of land, each time urging her to drink some water.

The fifth time she took a mouthful, she gagged and vomited it up.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry.”

“Hush.” Dec shook his head and gently wiped her mouth with the bandana. “It’s the weather,” he said, trying to convince himself as much as her. “Going from cold to warm, and now the wind picking up…”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? We can take another couple of minutes.”

“I’m fine. And I know we have to keep moving.”