Page 8 of My Mountain Man Valentine
Now I kick the door open with my foot, and her head lifts up as we enter the hut. It’s a small wooden construction with a single bed in one corner and a table and two wooden chairs in the other. A bench and cupboard make up the kitchen. There’s no electricity and no running water. But it’s shelter and a place to hole up until we can make it out of here safely tomorrow.
I slide Lucy off my shoulder, and she winces as her foot hits the floor. She doesn’t look at me as she hobbles over to the chair.
“We need to get out of our clothes.”
Her head jerks up, and the scowl on her face makes me step back. She’s pissed at me for carrying her, but we moved a hell of a lot faster that way. My arms wrapped around her thighs had my imagination going all sorts of places, and now I’m tongue-tied.
“Because they’re wet,” I clarify, hoping she doesn’t realize how much I’d like to get her out of her clothes for other reasons.
I shake the thought out of my head. I haven’t been with a woman in a long time, and having one pressed against my body has me all tangled up inside.
She shrugs out of her coat, leaving a puddle of water on the wooden floor.
I radio in to HQ, letting them know we’ve reached the hut and we’re safe for the night. It’s not much, but it’s better than trying to cross the swollen river in the dark.
I hang our dripping coats on nails hammered into the back of the door. My sweater underneath is dry, thankfully. I shrug off my boots and the rain proof pants I have over my thermals. I’ve got a dry layer of clothing, but the same can’t be said for Lucy.
While her raincoat has kept her top layers dry, her leggings are soaked through.
“They’re going to have to come off.”
She frowns at me, and I hold my hands up. “I’ll find you something to wrap around yourself, but you can’t stay in wet clothing.”
I dig a foil blanket out of my backpack, and Lucy snatches it off me.
I hate that she’s angry with me, but it was the best call to pick her up and get us here quickly.
I turn away to give her some privacy and do an assessment of the hut. The bed is made up with a sheet and blanket and a couple of cushions as if someone used it not too long ago. There’s a rug on the floor and a shelf with a couple of paperbacks and some candles.
In the cupboard under the bench is a portable gas burner, with no gas and a few utensils, some matches, and a dishcloth.
Everything seems neat and clean, like it’s used regularly.
Out the back is a tiny bathroom. It’s not the best set of facilities, but at least it’s something.
When I come back, Lucy’s struggling to pull her boot off over her sore ankle. Her face is set in a grimace as she tugs at the muddy boot.
“Let me help.” I crouch in front of her, and reluctantly she lets me take her foot. I loosen the laces, making sure they’re as loose as they can go before gently pulling the boot off. I roll the sock down and inspect the foot. Her toes have gone wrinkly from the wet, and the deep red nail polish she’s wearing has rubbed off her pinky.
It’s a delicate foot and I run my fingers over the bridge, making my way to the ankle. She winces as I reach the tender part. Around her ankle, the skin is starting to darken into a bruise.
“I don’t have any ice, but I can wrap it up. The compression will help.”
She nods but still doesn’t say anything.
I indicate her wet leggings. “Get those off first, then I’ll treat your ankle.”
I turn away so Lucy can pull her leggings off. I hear the swish as she pulls them down her legs and steps out of them. My heart thumps in my chest as I think about her behind me peeling off her wet things.
There’s a sharp cry of pain behind me and the crash of a chair falling to the floor. I spin around and Lucy’s gripping the table, her eyes scrunched up and her mouth set in a grimace.
Her leggings are stuck halfway over her foot, and the chair is on the floor on its side.
“What happened?” I try to keep my eyes on her face and not on the pale skin of her exposed legs.
“I knocked my ankle against the table and the pain took me by surprise.” She peers at me, and for the first time her scowl is gone. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not okay.” I right the chair and take her by the shoulders to gently push her down into it. “I’m going to help you out of these.”
