Page 46 of Mountain Men’s Nanny

He would have had every right to command me to find his daughter. I had been hired to look after her. It was my only job. She was healthy, and she could do most things on her own, and the one thing I was here to do was the one thing I had failed to do. Even if it was just for a few minutes, it was long enough for Lexi to go missing.

I walked around, maybe in circles, shouting for Lexi. I searched through branches, dug through piles of snow, and shouted her name despite my sore throat.

I could hear Gideon, Gunner, and Tobias doing the same, all of us spreading across the woods shouting Lexi’s name, growing more and more frantic the longer we shouted without her shouting back.

I started to sweat; every drop feeling like ice against my skin. My face trembled. Tears poured from my eyes.

“Lexi!” I cried desperately.

Gideon pointed and shouted, “She’s over there!”

If he hadn’t still sounded so panicked, I might have been relieved, but I wasn’t. I was frozen in place, waiting. It felt like my heart would burst out of my trembling mouth at any moment.

Tobias ran past me and down a slope on the edge of the little path we had been walking on to where Gideon had pointed.

“She’s here, she’s here,” he shouted.

I blinked, and my eyes misted with tears again.

Tobias climbed up with Lexi, lying and shivering in his arms. “It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re safe now.”

Lexi was soaking wet, her little lips blue with cold, and her skin pale. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby, you’re okay,” Tobias whispered.

We followed him in a somber procession. I couldn’t shake the guilt. She had vanished under my watch. Tobias has every right to be angry. He warned us it could be dangerous, but we were all so excited to be outside, and then this happened.

I braced myself for his rage. It was warranted this time, and as soon as he had gotten over the shock of losing her and then finding her in this state, he would be livid, and I would have to be ready to accept that.

I followed Tobias up to Lexi’s room. He stopped just in front of the bed with her in his arms. He was quiet, a vacant expression on his face. His eyes were empty; no anger, no blame, just the ghost of fear.

“Let me get her into a warm bath and some dry clothes,” I whispered.

Tobias just stood there. I took Lexi from his arms, and they fell limply to his sides. I headed to the bathroom and got Lexi into the bath. She was cold, but not injured, with a few scratches and bruises, but nothing too serious. She just needed to get dry and warm. That was my goal; I just had to make that happen.

Lexi started looking better than she did when Tobias carried her back to the cabin. The color was coming back into her cheeks, but she still wasn’t herself. She was afraid.

I wrapped her up in a towel, then in warm, thick pajamas. I walked out of the bathroom to find Gideon standing watch at the door.

“We’ve made the fire in the living room,” his voice was heavy and solemn, weighed down by our shared guilt.

It was my job to be watching her, and it had been his job for much longer. We had dropped the ball.

We walked down to the living room, where Gunner and Tobias waited wordlessly. They weren’t doing anything, not fussing with the couch cushions or ribbing at each other, just standing and waiting.

I put Lexi down and went to get her a glass of water. Fluids were the best way to break a fever, I thought.

Lexi reached out a weak hand and took the glass shakily to her lips. She drank in big, thirsty gulps and gave the empty glass back. She still felt warm to the touch, but I was hopeful.

We sat watching her, flinching when she coughed or sneezed, handing her pieces of fruit, putting a cool cloth on her forehead, and keeping her hydrated.

Lexi’s temperature was rising steadily. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was sweating but also shivering.

“She has a fever,” I whispered. “We need to do something.”

Gunner held his hand over his mouth more in horror than shock. “What do we need to do?”

Gideon sighed. “I’ll get the medical supplies we got on our last supply run.”