As I sprinted up that trail, a ferocious fear propelled my feet. Nothing could happen to her. Protect her at all costs.
The moment I heard her pathetic shout in the distance and saw her blurry form up the trail, it was like I returned to my body all at once. I slammed into myself so hard I thought Imight stumble. I had been all action, and now she was here. All the driving panic fell out of my body, leaving me floaty with adrenaline.
She limped pathetically toward me, and I saw a flash of red running down her shin. “Stop moving,” I shouted toward her, but she must not have heard because she kept coming at me.
I braced myself just as she ran into me. A tremendous force for such a little thing. As her soaking arms wrapped around me, she sobbed out an anguished relief that had my chest almost collapsing. Her entire body shivered so hard, her lips blue and cheeks alarmingly pale. Her light hiking gear had done nothing against this early winter storm, pelting us mercilessly.
She was safe and in my arms, and my lungs took in air for the first time in hours. My sanity returned to me, and I held her back. Nothing else mattered. The previous boundaries were lost in the quickly falling snow.
“H-hi.” She looked up at me like I was the key to her salvation, and I cursed myself that she had even had to go this far without me.
I smoothed a hand over her freezing cheeks, pushing back rain-soaked hair. I shrugged out of my heavy wool-lined coat and wrapped her tight into it. She’d need to get out of these soaking clothes as soon as possible, but for now, this would at least help her from getting any colder.
Her eyes rolled back as she sank into the oversized coat, and she sighed loudly in pleasure.
I flared my nostrils and looped my arm around her waist to carry some of the load.
“Come on. My truck isn’t far.”
“Th-that’s great news,” she stuttered. “I wasn’t s-sure how much more—” She cut herself off when her voice got high and tight.
“You’re okay.” I ground my jaw and kept her steady.
The rain lessened, but only because it was transforming into heavy, fat flakes of snow. The sounds around us shifted from a cacophony to an almost eerie quiet. We were going too slow. She was favoring her leg too much.
She shivered so hard and kept mumbling over and over. “I’m not stupid. It was just bad luck. I swear I’m not stupid.”
I couldn’t take it for another second. I stopped abruptly and turned to face her. She lifted her chin to meet my gaze. Fat flakes fell on her face; her eyes were red and full of tears. “I feel so stupid,” she admitted, and her face crumpled. “I hate this feeling.”
I wanted to hold her, to comfort her. She was worrying about the wrong thing. We didn’t have time for this.
I cupped her chin, using my thumb to brush away a fresh snowflake. I met her gaze with my own, unwavering with determination. “Never, not even for a second, did I think you were stupid. Mother Nature gives no shits, is all. You did everything right.”
Her bottom lip trembled, and she nodded. After another beat, she said, “Th-thank you.”
“Can I carry you?” I asked.
“I don’t think—Okay, then.” I lifted her in the fireman carry I learned when Pace made me take that local Search and Rescuecourse. I could kiss the guy for pushing me to do it as I cataloged all the things I would do to help Claire. Not that I wouldn’t still be a grumpy shit about it.
Snow blasted her face, and I used my hand to gently tuck her head toward the heat of my neck. I hissed when her icy nose sat on my pulse point. Once in my arms, I felt a release of her tension.
We moved much quicker now, and I hardly noticed her. Except the tremors. I must have been mumbling assurances because she shifted her arms tighter around my neck at one point and whispered against my skin, “I’m okay, really. Just so glad you’re here.”
My feet flew.
Ripley assaulted Claire the moment I set her in the cab of the truck. “Get back, girl. Give the lady some room. She doesn’t need you taking any of her body heat.” Ripley was too busy twirling and shivering to listen. I’d left her in there with the heat going and was so glad that it was noticeably warm.
“She’s o-okay.” Claire sighed again, moving her hands to the vents.
“No. Keep the coat closed and your hands tucked. We need to keep your core and head warm.” I blocked most of the snow from blowing in on her. It clung to my back, soaking through my extra flannel.
“Levi, it’s not hypothermia. I just g-got a little wet.”
I reached across her, and she leaned back with a soft gasp when I glared, face closer to hers.
“Okay, a little s-soaking.” She chuckled nervously.
I came back forward with two more blankets; one, I wrapped tightly around her lower half and the other around her soaking head to create a hood. “We’ll be home soon, but this is a good start.”
