He pressed his mouth into a flat line.
Yet.
* * *
Jeremiah looked up from his book with a trickle of adrenaline heightening his senses. He listened for a minute, but when whatever he heard didn’t come again, he let out a breath and sank back into his camp chair, returning his attention to his book.
This was getting ridiculous. In the three days since he and Heather had discovered the broken-down Bronco and returned to the cabin to find its driver trying to get past Murph, he’d spent far too much time thinking about that encounter. He could’ve used some company to keep his mind off it, even if it came in the form of Aaron or Nick or John or Henry telling him he was being paranoid. Heather’s company would’ve been a far better distraction, but she’d been up only for a couple hours the day
