AWOL with the Operative by Jean Thomas

her share with relish, refusing to let herself remember this was the last of their food. Or, for that matter, to worry about slowly starving out here in all this frozen vastness.
    Eve resolutely turned to Sam and broached another subject. “Any luck yet regaining your memory?”
    The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed as he swallowed the last of his ration. She found something erotic about that sight. No man had ever had this kind of effect on her before. It was exciting, but foolish. Wasn’t it? Yes, of course, it was.
    He shook his head. “Just those pieces that still have no meaning for me. When I do have something worthwhile, I’ll let you know.”
    She understood him. He was telling her he would prefer she stop questioning him about it. Probably the state of the lump on the side of his head, as well. No need anyway to ask about that. She could see that the swelling had lessened considerably.
    “You ready to go on?”
    She hesitated.
    “What?”
    “Sam, what if this excuse for a road doesn’t lead us anywhere? Anywhere useful, that is.”
    “Has to. Whoever built that cabin and farmed the clearing would have needed a way in and out to someplace where they could buy the supplies they couldn’t grow. Only makes sense.” He gazed at her when she didn’t answer him. “You’re still skeptical about it, aren’t you?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “You didn’t have to. Your eyebrows told me.”
    “My what?”
    “Eyebrows.” He smiled at her, the amber lights in his brown eyes glinting with humor. “No matter how controlled the expression on your face might be, your eyebrows give you away. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”
    “No. Just what are my eyebrows saying now?”
    “One of them is lowered, the other is raised. You aren’t sure what to believe. Adds up to uncertainty. See?”
    She had to give him points for being exceptionally observant. FBI training maybe. From now on, she’d have to try not to let her eyebrows betray her. There were some feelings she’d rather he didn’t know about.
    “So, we go on?” he said.
    She’d much rather stay right here and lean her head on his broad shoulder.
    Not a good desire, Eve. And watch those eyebrows.
    She got to her feet. “We go on.”
    The afternoon lengthened as they trekked onward. She was tired from this ceaseless tramping, but she refused to complain about it. She tried not to think what would happen when the sun went down. But it was impossible to keep from wondering if they would have to spend their second night out in the open. They might not be lucky enough this time to find another clearing offering a snug refuge.
    To her amazement, they did reach another clearing. It was considerably larger than the one that was now miles behind them. And much brighter. Light enough to show them it was not man-made this time, but a natural meadow in the forest. Nowhere in its expanse was there any indication of a possible shelter.
    They had no choice but to cross the clearing to the track that meandered on through the endless forest. Sam’s hand held her back at the edge of the woods when they reached that track.
    “Let me have your cell phone.”
    “Why? It doesn’t display any signal.”
    “You haven’t tried it again. We’ve traveled far enough that maybe this time it will.”
    Eve dug the cell phone out of her bag and handed it to him.
    “Wait here for me.”
    “Gladly.” She was more than ready for another rest stop. A large boulder a few feet away beckoned to her. Sweeping away the snow, she sank gratefully onto its flat surface.
    Sam took the phone and moved back out into the clearing. She watched his tall figure from her perch as he halted yards away from her, opened the phone, powered it up and squinted at the display. There couldn’t have been any signal. That’s why he held it higher and began to turn around slowly, seeking some kind of signal.
    Eve saw the sun, low in the sky now, strike golden sparks off the metal of the upraised