Page 59 of Romantic

“Brandon!” she says my name with urgency. “Is it really you?” She places a cold hand on my cheek. “You found me. I wanted you—and you found me.” So help me. Her words nestle in my heart.

“I’m here.” I hold her chilly hand. “I’m going to get you home safe.”

“I don’t know how!” She says despondently. “I think I broke my ankle—I can’t walk on it. I tried, but it hurts too much.”

This isn’t good. We are at least five miles up the mountain. Annie has an injured ankle and possibly hypothermia. I rapidly think through my next steps.

“Okay, Annie, listen to me. You’re freezing—we need to change you out of your wet clothes and put on dry ones. Are you up for that?”

“Of course I’m up for it,” she shivers. “I just have a bad ankle.”

“Good, I was worried. I wasn’t sure if you were conscious when I found you.”

“I was just wallowing in my pain,” she says with a pathetic laugh. “Trying to get up the courage to take another step.”

I take a flannel shirt out of my pack and hand it to her.

“Mmm . . . your shirt smells good. Why do you always smell so good?”

“I shower daily.” Annie laughs at my comment far more than it merits. I begin to wonder if she’s as with it as she claims to be.

She begins to take her tank off. I swiftly look away.

“Always such a gentleman,” she snickers. I take it as a good sign that she has enough energy to tease, but I plan to keep an eye on her.

She tosses her wet tank top on the ground beside me. I pick it up and squeeze out the water before putting it in my pack. Soon the blue skirt lands by me. Again, I squeeze out the water before tucking it away.

“Okay, you can look. I’m decent now.”

I’m not sure I’d call Annie-in-nothing-but-my-blue-flannel decent. Even if it is so big on her that it goes mid-way down her thighs. I toss her a pair of my joggers.

“These are huge. I won’t be able to walk in them.”

“They’re just to keep you warm. You won’t be hiking. I’m carrying you down.

“Can you do that?” she asks as she puts on my joggers. Or I assume that’s what she’s doing. Once again, I’m looking away to give her privacy and to keep myself from getting too distracted. Right now, I need all my focus to be on getting Annie home safely.

“Yes, easy.”

“You’re lying. It won’t be easy.” She’s right. Carrying her down a muddy trail after dark will be challenging and slow going. “Hey, can you help?” I glance over. She’s struggling to get the pant leg over her ankle. It’s already more than twice its normal size and beginning to turn purple. It looks incredibly painful.

“Of course.” I gently pull the pant leg over her swollen ankle.

“I got it.” She shimmies the joggers on. “Thank you.” Her voice is a little strained from the effort. “I’m sorry, Brandon. I should have turned back earlier.”

“No, more apologies. We’re going to get you home safely. But first, I’m going to make you take pain medicine and drink something hot.”

“That sounds dreamy,” she murmurs. I’m worried. I can’t tell if she’s just exhausted or if this is the beginning of the delirium that comes with hypothermia. It’s dipped below fifty degrees, and while I’m burning up from hiking, her wet skin is freezing. I pour the cocoa into the thermos cup and help her drink it.

“Mmm . . . very good,” she says after a sip. “Did I mention how happy I am to see you?”

“You did.”

“Well, I am . . . I missed you.” Her dear mud-spattered face beams up at me with genuine affection. My heart beats fast. I’m sorely tempted to pull her into my arms and kiss her with reckless abandon. But she’s chilled to the bone. I can’t lose my head right now. I need to get her home quickly.

“I missed you too, Annie.” I pat her icy cold cheek, before I put away the cocoa. “Now I’m going to lift you? Are you ready?” She nods.

“Put your arm around me.” She does exactly as I say. Her arm is cold against my neck. After running up the trail, I’m overly warm.