Chapter Five
Zach dressed by the dim light of the flickering fire. His trousers were still damp, but he gritted his teeth and pulled them on, figuring they’d soon be even wetter. The pale glow of daylight had pierced the far corner of the cave hours ago, but Bethany had fallen asleep in his arms, and he hadn’t wanted to wake her.
Then, about thirty minutes ago, she’d rolled away from him, onto her side, and he’d known he’d run out of excuses to stay. Besides, it would be easier this way. He couldn’t bear to look into her eyes and say goodbye.
He slid into his boots and stood, staring down at his lovely little snow angel for an endless moment, committing her features to memory. With a deep sigh, he turned away and trudged toward the narrow exit, stopping short when he realized the storm was far from over.
They’d been well insulated in their cave. He didn’t hear the fury of the wind until he was halfway down the passageway. Standing a few feet back from the entrance, he stared out at the driving snow, which had intensified during the night.
This was no simple winter storm—it was a blizzard of mammoth proportions.
Relief surged through him when he realized it would be impossible for anyone to travel in such weather. Rescue wouldn’t come for days—if not weeks.
His elation was short lived when he thought of their dwindling supply of firewood. It wouldn’t last through the day and, no matter how appealing the prospect, it was going to take more than body heat to get them through the next few days.
A shiver snaked down his spine as he contemplated his choices. The only solution seemed to be to trek back to the coach and gather as many supplies as he could. The weather was much worse than it had been yesterday afternoon, but it needed to be done.
It wouldn’t take long, a few hours at the most, and then he could enjoy the rest of his time with Bethany in relative peace. Sighing, he turned his collar up to his ears and stepped out into the storm.
* * * * *
Bethany managed to control her tears and feign sleep while Zach dressed silently behind her. But the moment she was certain he’d left, she let them fall, great sobs of grief curling her into a tight ball of despair.
She understood why he hadn’t said goodbye—it would have been far too hard. Perhaps he’d sensed how much she wanted to cling to him and never let him go. In his arms, she’d felt safe and cherished for the first time in recent memory. Now loneliness overwhelmed her.
Just thinking about his lovemaking—his passionate, playful tenderness—brought a fresh surge of tears to her eyes. She knew she’d never find such happiness again. She’d spend the rest of her life remembering last night and wondering what had happened to him.
Pushing to a sitting position, she shoved her hair out of her eyes and tried not to think about it. The fire was dying down, and it could be quite a while before anyone came looking for her.
In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered how anyone would ever find her in this cave. Would it be wiser to return to the coach?
Standing up, she crossed the cave and entered the narrow tunnel leading outside, and wondered if the sun had broken through the clouds. Before she’d gone very far, she realized something was wrong. Snow spilled into the narrow corridor, and the howl of the wind echoed against the stone.
Reaching the end of the tunnel, she stared outside with growing panic. The snow hadn’t stopped. In fact, it was far worse now than it had been yesterday. She visually traced Zach’s footprints through the deep drifts, wondering why on earth he’d left.
No one was coming for them. Zach would die of exposure before he’d gone more than a mile or two.
She took a step forward, mad with fear, then gasped and shrank back as the cold cut through her. “Oh, Zach,” she murmured, fresh tears filling her eyes. “Come back. Come back to me.”
* * * * *
The last twenty yards of Zach’s journey yawned before him, seeming like a hundred miles. He was frozen to the bone, exhausted from battling the wind and snow. The thought of lying down, even if it meant never getting up again, sounded better by the moment.
Thoughts of Bethany spurred him on. He’d find warmth in her arms, if he could get there.
After what seemed an eternity, he finally retraced his footsteps to the cave entrance. “Bethany,” he called, stumbling down the narrow tunnel. “Bethany, I need your help.”
She came running, her face lighting up at the sight of him for a split second before her expression turned to one of concern. “Zach! You’re frozen half to death.”
“Grab my pack,” he muttered. “I went back to the coach to get us some more supplies.”
He’d bundled more splinters of wood and the entire contents of the coach’s storage box in another rough, woolen blanket, but his arms were so numb he couldn’t lower it from his shoulder. Biting her lip, she struggled to take the heavy weight from his back.
The pack slid off, landing on the cave floor with a clatter, breaking open and spilling its contents all over. Moaning, he sank to his knees, too tired to take another step.
“Throw another p-piece of wood on the fire,” he instructed, his teeth chattering. “I’m s-so c-cold.”
“I thought you’d left for good.” She picked up a few splintered pieces of the coach and carried them to the fire. “I was so worried about you.”
