Page 5 of Mountain Man Rescue
But as my eyes drift shut, I can’t help but hope the storm doesn’t stop.
Chapter Three
Wyatt
The shower scalds the cold out of my bones, but it doesn’t wash Gina out of my head. By the time I towel off and tug on flannel bottoms, the cabin is quiet except for the steady hiss of snow against the windows.
I cross to the stove and add more pellets, making sure the heat won’t dip during the night. Usually, I don’t care if it gets cool—half the reason I built this place was to feel the seasons—but tonight’s different. Tonight, I want her to be comfortable. Safe.
I lean a shoulder against the wall and stare at the ceiling. All I can think about is the sound of her laugh over dinner, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, the electric jolt that went through me when our arms brushed at the sink. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like that. Too long.
It feels good.
And it terrifies me.
While we were cleaning up the kitchen, I was at war with myself. The devil on my shoulder said,Go ahead. She’ll be gone after the storm. No harm, no foul.
The angel said,Don’t you dare. She’s not a fling; she’s a person. You don’t cross lines you can’t uncross.
The angel won. Barely.
I tiptoe to my bedroom, climb into bed, and close my eyes, trying to drift off with the image of ivy-green eyes in my mind, when a sound rips through the cabin.
A scream.
A blood-curdling, terrified scream of pure fear.
I’m on my feet before my brain catches up, crossing the hall in three long strides. The guest room door flies open.
Gina’s thrashing on the bed, tangled in the quilt. “I’m going to die! Oh my God, I’m going to die!”
I’m at her side in a heartbeat, climbing onto the mattress and wrapping my arms around her. “Wake up, Red. You’re dreaming.” My voice drops low, steady, the same tone I used to pull my men out of their night terrors. “Ssshhh… you’re safe.”
She trembles from head to toe, her body rigid against mine. “Wyatt?”
“Yes, Red. It’s me.” I tuck her head under my chin. “You’re okay. Breathe for me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s it… nice and easy.”
She follows my rhythm, her breaths no longer shuddering. “I… I don’t know what happened,” she sniffles. Tears hit my skin like sparks.
“Don’t cry,” I murmur, holding her tighter. I’m trying not to notice how soft she feels pressed against me, the fresh scent of soap on her skin already imprinted as my new favorite smell. “You fell off a cliff today. That’s a big deal.”
Slowly, her body starts to soften. The tremors ease. I lean back just enough to brush a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “Better now?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “This is so embarrassing.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” I tip her chin up, so she’ll see it in my eyes. “Anyone would be shaken after a day like today. Now let’s get you back under the covers.”
She nods and lies back. I tuck the blanket around her, smoothing it down like she’s breakable glass.
“Wyatt?” she whispers in the dark.
I pause in the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Don’t go. I’m afraid to go to sleep.”
My pulse steamrolls through my veins. She pulls the covers back in invitation, her eyes still shining with tears in the dim light.
God give me strength.
