Page 28 of Trapped

“If no one’s going to come for us, then we need to plan.”Glancing at what remained of the fire, he stared into the wispy flames.“And you need waterproofs to avoid hypothermia.”

“But I only packed a waterproof jacket, sir.”We’d been through my naivety and nothing had changed.I wish I’d been more prepared and had brought what I needed, but I hadn’t.I’d arrived blindly for the experience, assuming everything would be okay, and I’d been wrong.“I didn’t think to bring anything else.”

I’d been kicking myself for my short-sighted stupidity ever since.

It was one thing to anticipate a light shower or two—an eventuality I’d packed my jacket for—but quite another to prepare for snowfall of the kind we’d experienced.I didn’t have the right kind of clothing for sub-zero conditions.Aside from a packed lunch and a jacket, I barely had anything with me.

“Then you’ll wear mine.”Resolve echoed in his tone as though I’d missed the middle part of the conversation where we’d debated the logic of his case.

“What?”My brow creased.“Wearyourwaterproofs?But won’t you need them, sir?”

And wasn’t he considerably larger than I was?

“I’ll be okay.”He offered me what looked like a well-practiced smile.“It might have been a while, but once upon a time, I did train for this kind of eventuality, little girl.”

He trained for this?

“When you were a spy, you mean?”I probed cheekily, unsure what sort of job would require someone to freeze for a paycheck.

He laughed at my quip, a sincere sound that seemed to lighten the mood somehow.“Nice try, little girl, but discovering my big, bad past won’t be that easy.”

“Shucks!”I shook my head playfully.“Guess I’ll have to keep trying.”

“You do that.”Shrugging me free of his bicep, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and eased me closer.“But you’ll also wear my waterproofs, Erin.They’ll help to protect you from the snow if we have to head out there.”

‘When’ we have to…

He never said the word, but I sensed the inevitability in his tone.We would run out of wood and food, and then we wouldn’t have a choice.

“I can get us back to the bridge in around ninety minutes.”He inhaled, his fingers tightening at my shoulder.“From there, we have to hope the roads are clear enough for us to get away from the area.”

Get away?

Shit, I hadn’t even thought of that, but he was right.Such an enormous and unexpected heap of snow would have created ramifications across the entire local infrastructure.Being trapped in the cabin had limited my sphere of reference to the narrow field of vision we had from the windows, but the truth was, we had no idea what it was like beyond them.

“Don’t look so worried,” he consoled.“If the roads are blocked, at least there are facilities there—toilets, and hopefully, places with electricity and heating.We’ll still be better off than we are up here.”

He was still using the word ‘we’ as though we were a couple, and peering up at him, I couldn’t decide how I felt about the assumption.The Erin I’d been before the trip wouldn’t have appreciated having a man around, but so much had transpired since the hike began.He’d helped me to discover unrealized things about myself.Could I truly contemplate any sort of a future without him?

Between the upset of losing Chelle, the stress of the storm, and every complicated emotion that had stirred between us, I didn’t know what I was feeling anymore.I was like a pebble on a beach, kicked around by one traumatic event to the next without any agency over where I landed.

“You’re right.”It was all I could think to say in the end.My head had started to throb, the pain goading me into subdued compliance.Better that I stay with him and let him save me.Perhaps not better, but definitely easier.“But I’m kinda hoping someone comes for us first.”

“I second that.”He leaned closer, grazing his mouth over my right shoulder.“I’m not giving up hope, but I’m planning for the worst-case scenario.”

“I hope they come soon.”My laughter was nervous.“No offense to you, sir, but this place is starting to overwhelm me.”

“The cabin?”He stared around the place as though he couldn’t believe I’d dared to criticize the innocuous wooden structure.

“I feel like the walls are closing in.”The pain in my head was exacerbating, throbbing in intense waves that made me want to throw up.“It’s like literal cabin fever.”

I forced the feigned laughter from my lips, wincing at its empty tone.

“It’s okay.”His arm stiffened around me.“I know this has all been a lot for you.”

“For us,” I corrected him.“If there is an ‘us’?”

He paused, his body stilling as he stared at me.“I’d like for there to be.”

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