Page 25 of Backed By You
“Practical,” I counter. “We’re heading downhill now. If I slip, I can fall backward and cushion you. And I need my arms free to grab onto trees or rocks if necessary.”
Hesitantly, she reaches her arms out to me.
I crouch down, supporting her weight as she wraps her legs around my waist, careful of her ankle. “I got you,” I mutter as I carefully lift her into my arms. For a moment, I’m struck by how perfectly she fits against me. Solid. Real. Her head naturally finds the hollow of my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck.
I’ve thought about holding her before, I realize. To have those wild, honey curls brush against my skin, to feel the rhythm of her heartbeat close to mine. The reality is more powerful than I could have imagined, even amidst the fear and urgency of the moment. One of her hands curls into the fabric of my shirt, her nails biting into my upper back.
“You okay?” I ask, securing my hands under her thighs.
She nods against my shoulder, her face close to mine. Hulk watches us before limping ahead a few steps and looking back expectantly.
As darkness falls around us, I pick my way down the mountain trail with Callie held tight in my arms. The descent is slow and treacherous. The trail narrows in places, forcing me to sidestep carefully. The uneven terrain taxes my already strained knee. I focus on my footing, hyperaware of her warmth against my chest.
“How’s your knee?” she murmurs after we’ve been walking for about twenty minutes.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” she says, but there’s no heat in it.
I grunt in acknowledgment, unable to find the right words. My knee hurts, sure, but I’m not about to tell her that.
Her safety is more important than any pain I could be in.
Ahead of us, Hulk continues his determined march, but his limp is becoming more pronounced. His pace has slowed considerably.
“He’s hurting bad,” Callie whispers, concern in her voice.
“He’s running on pure adrenaline and devotion,” I reply.
She falls silent at that, arms tightening around me.
By the time the trailhead comes into view, twilight has fallen in earnest. Hulk’s pace has slowed to a painful crawl. Callie’s muscles tremble from the strain of holding on.
“Almost there,” I encourage them both.
Hulk collapses the moment we reach the small gravel parking area, his sides heaving with exhaustion. The adrenaline that’s been carrying him is spent. He whimpers when Callie calls his name.
I carefully lower her to sit beside him on the ground. She strokes his head, murmuring words of comfort while tears stream down her face.
“My truck,” I tell her, already backing away. “Will you be okay for two minutes?”
“Yes,” she sniffles, not taking her eyes off Hulk. “We’ll be right here.”
I take off at a run. The faster I get the truck, the sooner I can get them both medical attention. The gravel road crunches under my boots as I push myself harder than I should.
When I pull up minutes later, I find Callie exactly where I left her, cradling Hulk’s massive head in her lap. The Shepherd’s eyes are half-closed, but his tail thumps weakly against the ground when he sees me.
“I’ll get him in first,” I say, opening the back door of my extended cab.
Together, we coax Hulk to stand. With careful maneuvering and a lot of gentle reassurance from Callie, I manage to lift him into the backseat. He collapses again, breathing heavily. I turnto Callie next, lifting her into the passenger seat. I close the door and jog around the front to the driver’s side. The moment I’m seated, Callie says without hesitation, “Animal hospital.”
I glance at her bloody temple. “Callie, you need—”
“Animal hospital,” she repeats, her voice brooking no argument. “Hulk is hurt. I can wait.”
I study her for a moment. The determined set of her jaw, the pain in her eyes that has nothing to do with her physical injuries. “Fine,” I say, starting the engine.
In the rearview mirror, I catch sight of Hulk stretched across the backseat, his loyal gaze fixed on Callie even in his exhaustion. She reaches back between the seats to rest her hand on his flank. “Good boy,” she whispers.
