“Come on,” he said, veering off the path they’d been on. Once again, she didn’t question, only persisted. Her faith in him was unnerving. He hoped he was worthy of it.
He continued downhill, cutting across the hillside toward where he’d spied the deep ravine. The dark scar down the hill was evident as he moved in the opaque fog. He glanced behind him, scared that Eleanor had lost him. But no, she was there. He huffed out a breath. He could keep them alive. He would keep them alive.
He waited for her to catch up a few more steps, as he didn’t want to lose sight of her, and the fog seemed to be thickening. “Good?”
Eleanor nodded, seeming not to mind that he hadn’t truly asked a question. But her eyes were still downcast, scanning theground. It was then he noticed she was trying to conceal a limp. He’d be damned before he let her be permanently hurt.
Walking through the evening and pushing through to the bottom was out of the question. They would have to hole up, dry off, inspect any wounds. He wished they had food. But it was supposed to just be a day trip. The mountaineers he knew didn’t bother taking any food whatsoever. It was extra weight to carry. And the mountaineers who did carry food had porters who carried it for them.
He reached the gully, a crack in the ground, running up as far as he could see. The seam made it obvious that this had once been a volcano. He ran his hand along the rock, but it didn’t seem volcanic. It didn’t snag and catch his skin.
Above him, it seemed to narrow, which made him wonder if lower it widened. Could he risk scouting it while Eleanor stayed here? He doubted she would allow it. But he certainly didn’t want to make her walk any further than she had to, brave as she was. The wind was whipping against him harder now, burning his cheeks and making his eyes water.
“Not much further,” he told her as she came up behind him, her breath coming in short pants. She was in pain. He offered his arm, which she seemed grateful to take. He supported her weight as they picked their way down, him eyeing the width of the gully as they went. Finally, it seemed to widen enough for two people.
“I think we’ve found it,” he said.
“Found what?” she asked, her voice reedy and thin.
He gestured at the rocky hole in the ground. “Our hotel for the evening. Let me get us checked in.”
Eleanor smiled, and he felt like he’d won a prize. At least she still had a sense of humor.
“Stay here,” he said, disengaging himself from her. “Let me make sure the other guests have checked out.”
He lowered himself into the seam in the ground. It was dark, but that was the least of his worries. He stamped his foot and brushed his hands across the sides of the rock. Moss and grass grew in fits and starts, making it slightly more hospitable. The gully was about five feet deep, so his head stuck out in the elements, but it should make a decent enough place to sleep and rest until morning.
The rest of the expedition might return with a search party tonight, which would be helpful. But the locals had told tales of the wind up here. Wind that could carry off a sheep, or even a full-grown man. He didn’t know if he believed the stories, but he certainly didn’t want to disbelieve them to his and Eleanor’s detriment.
He shuffled up the gully, trying to find a patch of level ground. Finding nothing, he turned around.
“And? Any stragglers?” Eleanor asked, her teeth chattering.
“I think our room is ready,” Tristan said. “Let’s get you down here.”
She looked doubtful.
“I’ll help.” Tristan boosted himself up onto the opposite embankment. “Have a seat.” Eleanor sat on the other side, clearly favoring her left side. “Put your hands on my shoulders, like we’re about to dance.”
She obeyed, leaning forward, and he did the same, putting his hands on her waist. “This is the most awkward waltz I’ve ever done.”
Tristan flashed her a smile. “It’s about to get worse. I’m going to lower you down. Scoot off the edge slowly.”
She inched forward, and when she came off the side, he gripped her waist, to help cushion her transition. His hands slid up her torso, and his stupid brain wouldn’t stop noting that she was not wearing a corset. Or that his hands were so very closeto her breasts. Or that his hands now safely under her arms, her hands rested on his upper thighs.
Not the time, he thought through gritted teeth. But whatever animal or base nature he had threatened to make it worse. He tamped it down.
He slid down the side and landed next to her. Very close next to her. This would be a tight space indeed.
“Cozy,” she said.
“I would have preferred some furniture, maybe a chaise longue, but I’ll complain to the management later.”
“At least we’re out of the wind.”
He could have kissed her. Well, again. He would have kissed her again. For being so resilient, for not complaining, for not making a difficult position even more so.
“I’d like to explore a little more downhill. See if there’s a flat spot where we could rest.”
