Jessica ran.
Jumped over the bodies. Splashed through puddles. Threw herself at him. Buried her face in his sodden chest. Cried out in deep gasps, “Are they dead? Are they dead?”
He flinched and pushed her off him. “Whoa, not so fast. You’re all wet. Calm down. I’ll get you somewhere dry.”
Jessica asked again, “Are they dead?”
“I don’t think so.”
His voice was as warm as she remembered. Yes, it was him. Eyes as dark as hers, his face equally high-cheekboned and pale-skinned. He was even taller than her.
“Here, take this.” He draped his hat over her head, arranging the rain shield that hung off the rim over her shoulders. His touch burned through her tunic. Then something registered in her foggy mind. “You . . . you speak English.”
A melancholy smile crossed his lips, full and dark l
