Stranded on Vail Mountain Page 2
He could see pain written all over her pinched, pale face. Cursing, he wrapped his arms around her lifting her up. He thought he heard her gasp but ignored it as he continued, the wind and snow beating at his back.
Chapter 2
There was no definition of time. Minutes felt like hours as the wind continued to hammer their efforts to get to safety, their chance of survival fading with each passing hour. Limbs went numb, and yet they continued as Stephen put one foot in front of the other.
Joan’s body shook so hard she didn’t even notice it anymore, and fear tightened Stephen’s throat, almost suffocating him with the knowledge that dark was only a few hours away. He kept glancing down, worry lowering his brows at how pale the woman was.
Stephen saw a structure in the distance and prayed it was what he thought it was.
The old hunting cabin.
It was now fully dark. The trek had been treacherous just to make it this far, with each step a risk. He looked down and caught the woman’s eyes, gesturing towards the general direction of the structure. She looked ahead and nodded, barely able to move.
Stephen moved toward the cabin, his arms almost numb as her weight became harder to carry. If he remembered correctly, it was stocked with wood and a few cans of food for lost hunters thanks to the rescue department within the resort. He would have to remember to thank his boss, Stephen thought, tightening his hands on the woman as he pushed through the last few feet, his legs dragging in the snow that pulled at his thighs.
He stumbled up the steps and fell against the door. It wasn’t locked, and before long, they were out of the piercing wind.
Stephen knew he had to get the woman warm or she wouldn’t make it off the mountain. He carried her over to the cot in the corner and set her down as her whole body shook violently.
He looked around the one room cabin and spied the dirty bucket in the corner. He looked inside and found everything he would need. Throwing the woolen blankets towards Joan, he grabbed the matches on the top of the stack of items and stumbled over to the pile of wood. His own body shook as he started to build a fire, his hands numb and barely working. After multiple attempts, the fire caught and held as he breathed life into the dry timbers.
He held his breath waiting to see if it would go out again, and when it looked stable, he painfully stood up and walked back to the woman, pulling her up as well.
He tore off both of their masks and carried her to the fire. “We have to get you warm fast,” he said, already working on her heavy coat.
“W-what a-about y-you,” she stuttered through chattering teeth, struggling to sit upright. Stephen looked into her weary blue eyes and felt something catch, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He smiled his first real smile in over two days. “I’ll be fine,” he said gently. “I’m worried about you and hyperthermia.”
He helped her to stand and quickly rid her of the coat and sweater. Reaching down for her jeans, she jerked back, her gaze shooting up to his.
“Everything. I want it all off.” There was no compromising apparent in his face.
She nodded, seeing the wisdom of that. “I-I’ll d-do i-it,” she said as another violent tremble spread throughout her body. He sighed and turned around, praying that she didn’t fall on her ass.
He reached into the pack he had managed to save before his ATV had gone over the edge of the mountain and retrieved a large Mylar blanket. Made of a thin plastic and resembling a space blanket, it trapped in body heat and would warm her up. Handing it to her without looking, he picked up the other woolen blanket and tossed it in her general direction.
“I-I’m d-done,” she stammered.
He turned slowly and got a good look at the woman for the first time, and shock held him. She was beautiful, her long brown hair brushing against the middle of her back in waves. Her deep blue eyes flickered around the interior of the cabin nervously, her slender fingers tightening on the edges of the blanket, holding it from falling from her nakedness beneath it.
Her trembling finally caught his attention, and he cursed silently.
Here I’m ogling her, and she’s nearing hyperthermia, Stephen thought, disgusted with himself.
He quickly stripped out of his suit and down to his long johns as the woman almost collapsed yet again, this time in front of the fire.
He stopped dead as he heard a gasp of pain and was at her side instantly.
“What is it?” he asked anxiously, looking for the cause of the pain.
Her ankle. Fuck. He had forgotten. Her head, too. Fucking A! He knew better!
He started to reach for her leg, but she shook her head, her hair falling forward and covering her face.
“My feet,” she said through gritted teeth. “L-like n-needles.”
One thing at a time. Stephen knelt down beside her, grabbing her feet and rubbing them viciously. “You’re getting feeling back. You were really close to frostbite.”
“Do you know where we are?”
Stephen nodded, his eyes going to the small window at the far wall and the blizzard raging outside. “Actually, about only five miles or so from the resort,” he said, still rubbing her feet.
He shook his head before she could say anything. “Too dangerous. We’ll have to wait until the storm abates before we even attempt it.”
His eyes went to her head, and he spied the dried blood caked in her wet hair.
He let go of her feet once he was confident the feeling was coming back and quickly got the small first aid kit from his bag. He hadn’t come with much, as most of his supplies had been in the larger bag he had lost, but he had a few things that were needed.
“Let’s see that head.”
She didn’t complain, not one word, as he felt around her scalp. He knew it had to hurt, but thankfully, she had just broken the skin. He didn’t think she had a concussion, but it seemed as though keeping her awake wouldn’t be an issue. He had a feeling the two of them wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.
Finally satisfied, he circled the white bandage around her dark head, leaving her resembling a war victim.
Silence filled the cabin, and then her eyes met his.
She held out a hand. “My name is Joan Clayton.”
He looked at her small hand and felt a twitch, a smile trying to break free. He reached forward and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Joan. Stephen, remember?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I would have died.”
Stephen refused to think about it but nodded. “You’re welcome.” He couldn’t imagine finding her stiff and cold, the life gone from her body.
He felt his body tense with that dark thought and struggled to think about something else, anything else.
“Let’s see about that ankle,” he suggested.
Joan nodded as he walked over to where he had dropped his bag beside the door. Retrieving his bag, he pulled out his first aid supplies. Returning to her side, he knelt down to inspect her ankle. It was swollen three times its normal size.
“I bet that hurts like a bitch,” he muttered.
Nodding, she watched him as he fixed the bandage and tightly wrapped her ankle. She cringed but didn’t say a word.
Once done, he put his supplies back and grabbed a small ice pack from the bag. He shook it and felt it get cold.
“Here. This will help the swelling and pain.”
She sighed as she carefully lifted the ice pack and laid it on her ankle. Stephen grabbed his small pack and propped her leg on it.
He rubbed his hands together near the fire, feeling his own needles as the feeling started to come back. “So tell me about yourself.”
At that, her expression seemed to close, and the light went out of her bright eyes.
She shrugged. “Not much to tell. I’m twenty-six years old, live in Manhattan in a two bedroom apartment. I’m a reporter for the Star, mainly humanity pieces, and I have a cat.” She raised a brow, firing the same question back at him. “What about you?”
>
He chuckled and returned the favor in the same manner with a smile twitching.
“I’m thirty-one years old, live about seven miles from here in a one bedroom house, and I’m a park ranger for the mountain. No animals.” He noticed the subtle freckles scattered across her cheeks. “Or wife.” He waited for a second to see if she would smile or flirt, but she didn’t respond.
Joan sighed and laid her head on her raised knees, staring into the fire, mesmerized by the light yet lost in the recent past. Her brow furrowed, she bit her lip, her gaze unblinking as the seconds ticked by, the silence growing between them.
He opened his mouth to speak, but her words hit him, cutting him off.
“I caught my husband in bed with my best friend this morning.” Her eyes remained on the flickering light. “I went hiking today so that I wasn’t around while they were packing. This was supposed to be our vacation, a last ditch effort to…” She paused, unsure of how to go on. What could she say without sounding pathetic? It was a last ditch effort to save her marriage? To understand what was going on between the two of them?
Her shoulders tilted in a shrug. “My best friend said it was just a coincidence that she had decided to take a vacation and ended up at the same resort.” She laughed sarcastically.
Stephen stared over at Joan’s profile backlit by the fire, the curve of her cheekbone, the slight ridge of her nose, the lowered brows over blue eyes that spoke of her recent pain and disillusion. His fists clenched, craving the satisfaction of slamming into something or someone, preferably the bastard who had hurt this woman. Her husband clearly had no idea how lucky he was; her strength and determination rivaled her beauty. Not many women could have withstood the storm for so long and come out with just a sprained ankle.
“Let’s get something hot into you,” he said suddenly, desperate to change the subject and get the pained look off of Joan’s beautiful face.
He grabbed a dusty pan from the corner and cleaned it out with the snow from outside. Packing it full, he soon had boiling water and added the chicken broth from the packet in his pack. He grabbed a cup he had found among the pile that had been left in the corner. Pouring a small amount of broth into the cup, he handed it to her.
“Sip it slowly. It’s hot, and it’s not much, but it will warm you up faster.”
Nodding her thanks, she drank it slowly before it was soon empty, Stephen having already downed his own cup.
“Get some sleep,” Stephen suggested.
Joan nodded and lay down, her arms beneath her head as the fire cast dark shadows over her pale features.
Stephen couldn’t sleep despite his extreme exhaustion. If he was going to be any good to her, he had to get some rest, but instead, he couldn’t take his eyes off Joan and her even breathing. There was something about her he couldn’t pinpoint.
Sighing, he rolled over to stare at the far wall. He had been single for too long to worry about it now, and yet there it was, an obsession he didn’t understand. However, he didn’t have time to cave to that desire. Or even the right, considering her relationship status. They were in serious trouble. Snow continued to hammer against the cabin, blocking out any trace of moonlight as the storm clouds darkened even further.
He hadn’t told Joan yet of the severity of the storm, but he didn’t think she was an idiot. She knew. He hadn’t wanted to worry her, but it was going to be bad, possibly for over a week. By the time it abated, they may have to dig their way out.
Sighing, he ran his fingers through his dark hair and glanced out the blackened window.
Stephen wouldn’t have normally cared about getting stuck with a beautiful woman, but he had a feeling she could do a lot of damage to his heart if he let her, and due to his luck with women, he wasn’t too keen on the risk.
He saw her shiver and looked over at the fire that was almost out. He made his way over to the door and the pile of clothes and started to bundle up for the trek to the small wood shed behind the cabin.
Covered as much as possible, he took another look at her scrawled on the floor, snuggled beneath a few of the thin blankets before heading out into the storm for more firewood.
Joan shivered again as a cold blast shot up from beneath the threadbare blanket. She jerked awake and lifted her head, looking around as another shudder racked her small frame.
Shit, she was cold! She didn’t see Stephen, and for a split moment, the panic tried to suffocate her, but she choked it back down and concentrated on breathing.
Just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean he left me, she thought, her eyes going to the dark window before surveying the small cabin. For being built in the middle of nowhere, it was well-built and stable. The walls protected them from the biting wind, but the cold still seeped in through the cracks in the walls and floorboards. She wasn’t complaining though. She knew it could be a lot worse.
Yeah, I could be dead. She flinched at that thought, but it was no less true. Whether she admitted it or not, only a fool would storm off like she had. Stephen had saved her life.
She heard the door rattle and jerked up just as the cold and wind entered, skating along her spine. She wrapped the thin covers around her tighter as Stephen entered, a stack of wood in his arms. He pushed the door closed with his back, blocking off the wind once again. Shivering, she scooted out of the way of the fireplace as he walked by her and knelt down, the wood hitting the hard floor.
“The fire went out. Hold on. I’ll get it going again in a minute.”
His voice was muffled by the scarf over half of his face making it hard to understand him, but she made out the words, considering a small stack of wood in his arms. She gave him a small smile in acknowledgement before realizing he couldn’t see her with his back turned.
“Okay, thank you.”
Before long, a fire blazed, throwing shadows along the room, and forcing the bitter chill from the cabin.
Leaning back on his heels, he looked over his shoulder at her, his dark eyes skimming her, stopping at her leg. Nodding to it, he stood up and reached over, grabbing two flat boards she hadn’t noticed until then.
“Let’s see about that ankle again,” he said.
She glanced down at it, feeling the throb of pain that had never left her, even in sleep.
“Is that really necessary?” As soon as the question left her lips, she felt like an idiot. Of course it’s necessary, she thought.
“Forget I said that,” she muttered, flushing slightly beneath his amused gaze.
Chuckling, he walked over to where she still lay on the ground and knelt down beside her.
He gently moved the blanket to the side and picked up her ankle. As soon as he touched it, she gasped, choking down the urge to let out a very unladylike yell of muttered curses.
He leaned over her, wrapping it tightly, and placed the frozen ice pack on it. He leaned back and looked over at her.
“The swelling has gone down a little, but it still looks pretty bad. Keep the ice on it. It will help.”
She nodded, wincing as she shifted, trying to get comfortable.
“Are you hungry?”
Joan started to shake her head just as her stomach let out a loud, annoying growl clearly heard throughout the silent room.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, grinning.
She stilled, gazing up at him. It was the first time she had truly seen him smile since he had rescued her, and the sight stopped her for a moment.
He was even more handsome with the smile, his brown, well-trimmed beard drawing attention to the curve of his lips. It made him look raw and rough, and yet there was something about him. His dark hair mussed and brown eyes lit with amusement, his broad shoulders blocked the rest of the room from view, wrapping her in his shadow.
She realized he was waiting for an answer and nodded hastily in case he happened to see where her eyes had been. He seemed to be built very well in every aspect of the human body. Just the thought caused her to flush, which didn’t go unnoticed.
>
“Are you hot? Cold?” he asked, frowning.
She shook her head and turned towards the fire. “No, I’m fine.”
All was silent aside from the crackling of the fire until she heard footsteps leading away from her and breathed a sigh of relief, glad he had dropped the subject.
Well, I’m going to go see what I can find and see if I can think of a way to get us off this mountain.”
She turned to answer just as he opened the door, and she shivered as a cold blast of air and snow invaded the comfort of the cabin. In seconds, it was closed, but the cold had done its job and penetrated what warmth she had managed to sustain from the fire. Turning back around, Joan huddled closer to the blaze and wrapped the thin blanket around her tighter.
Alone in the cabin, her mind wandered remembering the deep hole. She had been too cold to feel the terror of her situation, but now that terror knew just what would have happened if Stephen hadn’t found her. She thought of anyone who would miss her and felt her eyes sting. Based on what she had discovered the previous morning, her best friend would rejoice in her death, and her husband obviously wouldn’t care either. Her parents had died in a car crash when she was nineteen, and she didn’t have any other family besides his parents, and she wasn't close with her in-laws.
Her eyes burned. No one would care. She sighed, her shoulders slumped. She had thought Michael would be all she would need, that they would start their own family. Now that dream was gone, destroyed by his actions.
She shook away the depressing thoughts that threatened to choke her and straightened her shoulders, staring down at the blaze. It was still cold but not as unbearable. The wind continued to howl, and now that it was completely light outside, the windows were white as the snowfall decreased visibility to almost non-existent.
Worried about Stephen, Joan stood up, shivering as the cold increasingly penetrated the blanket the farther she hobbled away from the fire. Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders tighter, she hopped over to the door, her leg aching with each jostle of movement. She placed her shaking hand on the knob and hesitated. She didn’t know how long he had been gone. It couldn’t have been for very long, but it seemed like ages.