Damn it. I forced my gaze away, collected the rabbit from the grass, and disappeared behind the trees to dress it for cooking. By the time she returned with an armful of dry twigs, I'd finished the messy task and buried what we couldn't use.
Charlie snapped branches over her knee and stacked them in a teepee formation like she'd done it a hundred times.
Where had she learned that?
I shouldn't want to know. But I did. I wanted to know everything about her.
"Here." I tossed her my lighter.
She caught it one-handed, then crouched. Soon, she had a decent fire going.
I skewered strips of meat on a green branch, propped them over the flames, and the smell of cooking rabbit quickly filled the air.
Charlie sat and pulled her long legs up to hug her knees.
When the meat was golden brown, I divided the strips between us. She took her portion, and I thought she’d hesitate. Nope, she bit in without pause.
"Oh my God," she mumbled around a mouthful. "This is delicious."
"Helps when you're starving."
"No, seriously. This is really good." She licked her fingers, and I liked watching that move way more than I should have.
As we ate in comfortable silence, the other rabbits returned to the thicket, bouncing around as if nothing had happened.
"Oh, look. They're back." Charlie pointed, and her smile lit up the whole damn world.
"Yeah. They don't even know grandpa's missing."
Her jaw dropped. "You're terrible."
"Maybe, but at least we’re not starving anymore." I patted my stomach.
She shook her head, fighting a grin.
With our bellies full, we settled against the tree trunk, looking out over the landscape, and after a few minutes, she released a long sigh. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not making me feel like an idiot about the rabbit."
"You're not an idiot. You’re a city girl who's never had to hunt for dinner."
She huffed a laugh. "Thank God for that, or I'd starve."
I smiled. "So where did you learn to stack a fire?"
"Field work. I've done surveys at remote dig sites from Darwin to Adelaide." She picked a blade of grass and curled it around her thumb. "We usually took turns with camp duties."
"Doug?"
She snorted. "Hell, no. Doug couldn't light a match without setting himself on fire."
I chuckled. "Didn't see any campfire at your dig site."
She huffed. "No. We had a microwave and a generator."
"Lucky for some. So how long have you been searching for fossils?"