She yells his name, terror building in her wide eyes as he keeps on trying to drag her up, finally getting an arm under her shoulder and hooking it in place. It’s only then that his muscles kick in and do the work, lifting her straight out of the pit with brute force that knocks them both backward into the snow, her body covering his like a blanket.
“Are you okay?” he gasps, both arms around her in a tight hug, as if she might fall again. “Are you hurt?”
She blinks back at him in shock, hands braced against his chest and delicate lashes fanning across her skin, as disbelieving words escape parted lips. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I’m still here.”
One long, curling strand of hair hangs down between them to caress his cheek, and he curbs the urge to do that thing he’s seen in the movies, hook his finger on it to brush behind her ear. Not that he even wants to, because he doesn’t. Touching her is the last thing on his to-do list. He’s simply relieved she’s safe, that’s all. Sure, he might be too mesmerized by how close she is to form a coherent thought beyond the tone of blue in her eyes, but that’s a normal reaction to nearly losing someone over a sinkhole, he reasons.
They’re frozen in more ways than one, but eventually she realizes what they’re doing and moves off him quickly with ascowl, her words irritated as if she has to force them out from deep within her lungs. “Thanks for pulling me up.”
“At your service, my lady. It is what a decent person would do after all.”
She huffs. “Maybe there’s a ground-level entrance. Think there’s a cave down there? We could stay there overnight.”
He grunts out a sound of approval as they get to their feet and very pointedly avoid talking about anything that just happened while tension hangs thick in the air.
Nora’s right about the cave entrance. It’s small, though, barely able to squeeze through without sucking his stomach in past his ribs. It opens up once he’s inside, the first part at least. That entrance is tight, and she balks on the other side.
“Are you coming?”
She bites her lip, the remaining daylight bouncing off her face in a golden haze. “It looks really small in there.”
“Do you have trouble with small spaces?”
“No. I dunno. I’ve never been shoved into a crevice like that.”
He’s not sure what the protocol is for something like this, but he’s got his own fears, and if it were reversed, he’d want her to be patient while he got his shit together. Not make fun, or push, or do anything but encourage while he makes his own choices.
“It’s bigger in here,” he tells her. “It opens up more. There’s space for a fire, too.”
He’s already dropped the sticks and twigs they gathered from the surrounding area, grateful it’s still light enough to be sure there wasn’t anything lurking inside this hallowed-out shelter. Not far as he can tell anyway, though he has no plans to venture deeper.
She doesn’t budge, not even when the wind picks up and whips her coat hood off her head.
“I just need a minute.” She closes her eyes and visibly tries to calm herself. It’s no use and when she opens them again, herface breaks, a sniffle sticking in her throat. “I don’t know why I’m more upset about this than I was about nearly falling in that giant crater. It doesn’t make sense. I need to see the back and I can’t.”
“Hold on a minute. I got an idea.”
He arranges the wood into a little pile and sets about creating a fire the way Oliver taught him. It takes a few minutes, but eventually the embers start to flame and spark, lighting up the inner section of their temporary residence.
The warmth doesn’t spread far, but it glows, and the shadows pull back just enough to make it seem less like a tomb.
“Now you can see further in.” Gently, he holds out a hand for her to take. He’s relieved when her padded palm slips into his. “Once you get past that narrow part, you’ll be alright. Come on.”
He gives her the barest tug. Not enough to force her to do it, only enough to support the choice when she leans his way. Then all at once she’s slipping past the narrow rocks and into the fire-lit cave with him.
She lets go of his hand and shakes her arms out with nervous energy, breathing heavy as that tension fades from its build-up. “How’d you learn to make a fire so quickly? Boy Scout?”
“Yep.”
“Really?”
“Really. And an Eagle Scout. But I learned a lot more from being dropped off in the wilderness with my brother once a year than I ever did at those camps.”
“Do you have any other skills I should know about?”
“I can do some hunting. Fishing. Nothing fancy.”
“That sounds pretty fancy to me right about now.”
