Angela blushed, fighting the urge to lean down and kiss his pouty lips in relief. "If you say so. How about getting off my sore leg?"
They were on their feet a second later, and he was reaching for her. "Let me see."
"I'm fine." Angela moved back, turning away as she slung mud from her hands. "Let's see about Dog."
Marc followed her, frowning. Another side effect of her man or the life she'd had? "Neither," his heart whispered. "She feels the attraction too. She's not scared. She's interested and feeling guilty about it." That made sense. Angie and loyalty went hand in hand.
While Marc let the anxious wolf out, Dog eagerly rushing to check them both over, Angela took a minute to scan what was left of the town for people, for survivors. She still hoped they might be able to help if someone was stuck, or leave food, but there was only silence. Kirksville was a ghost town, and it made her think of the History Channel. All the bodies that had to be buried under that mile-long stretch of thick mud - would archeologists find them hundreds of years from now and try to figure out what had happened?
"We got lucky."
Angela nodded, but didn't say anything, sure it was more than luck. Fate had allowed both of them to survive again and again. Was it because it wanted something from them, something bigger than just their tiny lives?
The two Blazers were mud-splattered, the glass on Marc's side window cracked, but other than dents in the fender and bumper, both vehicles had held up despite being shoved through the glassless windows by a wall of mud. They climbed into driver's seats with squelches, grimaces, and shared grins. They were alive and on the move. It had been a good day.
As they drove, Angela's mind was on her reaction to Marc reaching for her. She had wanted to step into his embrace! She was no longer able to ignore the closeness that was growing. He'd broken through her walls, and the old Angela was now wide awake and longing. They had traveled well together, even with the occasional awkward looks and searing tension that sometimes happened. He was still a good man. "Your man?" the Witch questioned and Angela was glad when Brady interrupted.
"You okay back there?"
She flashed her lights in response and saw he wanted to say something, but wouldn't. She'd been a fool not to call him all those years ago.