Page 52 of The Bride
I waited and listened. There was nothing. Nothing but wind and…
There it was. A crying calf. Off to my right. I unhooked the karabiner and moved toward that sound. “Ellie! Ellie”
She was exactly ten feet away. I know because I counted.
She was facedown in the snow, the damn rope still wrapped around her hand. I lifted her up to sitting.
“Ellie! Ellie!”
I saw her body startle, my voice finally penetrating the cold. I hauled her up to standing and then dropped her over my right shoulder.
“Calf,” she moaned. “Calf.”
“Fuck this.” I took the rope and pulled the calf behind us. I made it back to the line, ten feet from where I left it. I hated wasting the time it took to get to the barn first, but I couldn’t be certain if I tried to head directly for the house I would make it.
I dropped the calf off, shut the barn door, hooked myself to the house line, and moved as fast as I could. I could feel her like dead weight on my screaming shoulder. I saw the house and almost cried out.
I got us both inside and shut the door. The warmth was almost too much. Not stopping, I moved us through the back of the house to the stairs. I took them two at a time and made my way to my shower. It was bigger.
I turned the hot water on and sat Ellie on the toilet seat. She didn’t fall, but she was out of it. I slapped her face a few times.
“Ellie, I need you to wake up for me. Listen to me. I have to get you in the shower.”
Her eyes drifted closed. “Jake. So cold.”
I started removing her clothes. All of it. Her mask, her coat. I got her on her feet to remove her snow gear, then sat her down to get her out of the boots. As damp as everything was, it was only helping to keep the cold locked inside.
Then her shirt, her sweatpants. Finally her bra and panties. I shoved her into the shower and she slid against the wall until her ass hit the tub. I undressed and followed her. Then I moved her so her back was to my front and the hot water was hitting her directly.
It felt like a hundred little pin pricks all over my body. I knew it was the same for her because she started writhing in my arms and crying out.
“Hurts,” she cried.
“I know, baby. I know. But we have to get your temperature up.”
It was like holding a block of ice in my arms.
Finally, eventually the hot water did its thing. I could see her skin turning pink and her breathing was sound and even. Her head was on my shoulder and I knew I wasn’t going to lose her when she started crying. Soft cries that shook her whole body.
“You’re okay,” I crooned.
“I’m naked,” she sobbed.
Yeah, like that was important, but it was to her so I lifted her out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her and sat her back down on the toilet seat. I hadn’t taken off my boxer briefs to spare her that, but truly as soaked as they were I wasn’t hiding much.
I grabbed a thermometer from my vanity, rinsed it off, and stuck it in her mouth. It was an electronic one and after a few seconds it beeped.
95.7. Not great but probably better than she had been.
“We need to get some hot liquid into you. Can you stand?”
She looked at me and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
I left the bathroom, took off my wet briefs, found sweatpants, a sweatshirt and some socks. I got dressed and made my way downstairs. I needed sugar and heat. Hot cocoa. Instant. I threw the powder and water into a mug and put it in the microwave.
Our power was gone, but the generator was working. Normally I wouldn’t have wasted energy on the damn microwave but I needed fast. After a minute and a half it dinged. I took a sip, burned my tongue and figured that was a good thing.
As fast as I could without spilling it, I took it upstairs. She was still sitting on the toilet, only now she’d started to shiver.
