I awoke with a splitting headache and aching muscles. My back was killing me from sleeping on the rocks and the rest of my body was yelling at me for the constant hiking. My lips were stuck together and my throat was dry. Swallowing was torturous; it felt as if a golf ball was stuck in the movement of it. My stomach was on fire; the result of acid eating away at itself, and my hair clung to me from sweating through the night.

I sat up, peeling myself off of Colt's chest, and looked down at him. He was still sleeping, but he was mumbling under his breath and was thrashing every so often as he had been through the night. I placed my hand against his forehead; he was burning up. Untying my blood soaked shirt that was wrapped around his leg, I examined the claw marks. It did not look good at all. His skin around the wounds was slightly swollen and red, all evidence of an infection. He was in dire need for it to be cleaned and given antibiotics. The desperation for water increased profusely.

I looked down to the tank top I wore, and cursed under my breath. Slowly, I peeled it off over my head, leaving me in only my black laced bra, and carefully wrapped his leg again.

Colt's eyes slowly opened. He looked around in a daze for a moment before his eyes landed on mine. He gave me a weak smile, his eyes then widening as they trailed over my exposed chest. His expression turned serious, and his eyes took me in a moment longer before glancing back up at me.

My cheeks flushed, and I hugged my arms over my chest. "You needed a clean bandage." I nodded to his leg. "It doesn't look good Colt. It looks infected. We need to get you back."

He nodded and slowly pushed himself up. He unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders, handing it to me. I looked to him and hesitantly grabbed it from him. I put my arms through and buttoned it up to just my chest.

"Thank you." I breathed.

"You've now sacrificed two shirts for me. It's the least I can do."

He moved the bigger rock he had placed to partially cover the hole of the small cave, and peered out.

"Okay, I'm going to crawl out and make sure there's nothing around before you come out."

"No Colt, I'm coming directly with you. I didn't help to scare the mountain lion away the last time, and look what happened." I motioned to his injured leg. "I'm not going to make that mistake again."

He stared at me momentarily and nodded. "Okay. I am learning to not argue with you anyway."

He moved his hurt leg with his hands and guided it outside of the hole, following his other leg. He then pushed himself all the way out and used the rock to help him stand. I immediately followed and grabbed ahold to his waist to help balance him.

We both looked around searching for any sign of predators. Once we were satisfied, we began climbing the rest of the way down. We moved slowly, me helping Colt with his footing and trying to keep him off his leg as much as he could.

We made it off the hill and continued toward the direction Colt pointed. I stayed right by his side just in case I needed to grab onto him. He was stubborn about it however, and played tough. Despite his intrepidness, I could tell it was hurting him. The skin looked really tight around his calf muscle, so I could imagine it was not easy trying to walk, which was proven by our slower than normal pace.

About two hours in, he stopped and slid down onto the grass, leaning against the trunk of a tree. I kneeled down next to him and looked over to see he was slumped over motionless.

"Colt? Colt!?" I called out in panic, grabbing onto his arm.

He slowly raised his head and looked at me with heavy eyes.

"I'm here Grace. I'm here."

I placed my hand against his forehead, and he leaned into it. He was burning up, hotter than earlier that morning. He mumbled something incoherently and slumped back down. I stood up, completely desperate.

"You need some water. We can't keep going like this without it. I'm going to see if I can find a stream or something."

I went to take a step, but he reached up and grabbed ahold of my hand.

"Grace. No." He rasped.

I yanked my hand away and knelt down in front of him. I placed my hands on either side of his face and looked into those electric blue eyes of his that were dimming by the minute.

"You need water Colt. You're burning up. You clearly have an infection. I'm not going to just stand here and do nothing. I can't lose you Colt."

He placed his hands on mine and pulled them from his face, holding them in his instead.

"And I'm not going to let you go off by yourself, get more lost, or hurt. You're not going to lose me Grace. And I'm sure as hell not losing you."

I sighed and slumped back down next to his stubborn, but probably correct, self. It would do neither of us good if I couldn't find my way back to him. But I didn't know what else to do at that point. We still had at least a few hours left with the slow pace we were going, and he was more than spent.

I dug into my bag and handed us both a couple more of my mints. At least it would provide comfort for our throats if nothing else. He gladly took them, popping them into his mouth, and then leaned his head back against the tree, closing his eyes and breathing in the mountain air. He turned slightly toward me, opening one of his eyes to glance at me.

"When did you move from Wyoming?"

He had both of his eyes closed again, and he looked so peaceful against that tree. I almost didn't want to disturb him with my answer.

"Um...not long after everything with my dad. I was nine. We sold the house and the horses and headed to the city. My mom never looked back, but I found that was all I could do."

I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs.

"That's where she met Frank. He was a good distraction for her I think. But I think he's always looked at me more like something to just deal with, rather than an actual daughter. He never approved how carefree I was, and often spoke over me. Still does I suppose. After my dad though, I lost a lot of my spirit anyway." I picked the grass next to me. I had never really voiced any of that before.

"We've just never really gotten along. I was eleven when they got together, so I was already growing into my own person and he didn't like that. We don't have much in common, and I found myself trying to be interested in the things he likes so he would actually talk to me. If I'm being honest, I craved his approval. Maybe I still do, I don't know. But it never really helped. We're just too different. He drinks too much, talks too loud, and swears often. But, despite all that, I really do think he loves my mom."

I felt Colt's stare on me so I turned toward him to face those magnetic eyes which held a look of both anger and understanding.

"You look to him as an example of what you deserve in life?" Colt asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

One I didn't respond to, because it resonated deep within me, and I was not yet prepared to analyze that within myself just yet.

Instead, I sighed, leaned my head back against the tree and rested my eyes. Several moments passed in nothing but silence. I looked toward Colt to see his eyes still closed.

"Keep talking to me Colt. Stay here with me. Please. Tell me something about you. What were you like as a kid?"

I heard him mumble something, before clearing his throat. He reached out and grabbed my hand, and I squeezed it for reassurance.

"A hell raiser." His voice broke through as he smirked. "I can confidently say I am the reason for those gray hairs on my mom. I wasn't one to sit still. I loved going on adventures, and I had no fear back then. I once broke my arm from jumping off the top of the barn. I had convinced myself I could fly. My mom nearly had a heart attack."

I laughed, shaking my head. My cheeks hurt from the big smile that overcame my face as I stared at him.

"I can picture it. Your poor mom. You don't seem much different to me now."

"Well you'd be happy to know I was just as stubborn back then."

"Don't you mean hard headed."

He chuckled and a new spark ignited in his eyes that made me release the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. He closed his eyes again, his head still resting against the tree.

"When I was little, my dad trained a lot of horses. Everytime he brought home a new one, I'd get so excited to stand on the arena's fence and watch him break in the horse. It was like a wild dance between the horse and my dad that required a lot of patience and a lot of trust. I was so mesmerized, I became determined that I would tame all the horses one day. But--"

He paused and opened his eyes to meet my awaiting ones.

"But what?"

"But I came to realize there's something so beautiful about the ones that can't be tamed. The ones who are damned determined they won't be broken." He reached out and ran his finger down the side of my face. "The wild ones."

I trembled under his touch. He held my stare a moment longer, before he rested his head back against the trunk and sighed.

"I would fucking kill for that pizza right about now."

I laughed, the intense moment we had been in vanished, and I thought back to two days ago when he teased me about using my phone for help.

"If we don't make it, I want you to know I'm so sorry for getting us in this. I would take it all back if I could."

He snapped his head to me and fiercely held my eyes.

"I wouldn't. I wouldn't take any of it back." He reached out and cupped my cheek. "But you are making it back. I told you I would get you home. I will save you Grace. I promise."

"You keep saying that. But, what about you? Why is it so important that you save me?"

"Because, I couldn't save her."