Page 50 of Trapped

Chapter Ten

Sophia waited in a stand of trees, leaning against the trunk of a massive oak, while Cash went to investigate. It was all she could do to stay on her feet now, and she watched him through dull eyes.

She’d been wet and cold for too long. And she knew she was in trouble if she didn’t get inside soon. When Cash came back, she watched his face anxiously and picked up his look of relief.

“It’s an empty hunting cabin.” He gave her a concerned look. “Come on.”

When she pushed away from the tree, she wavered on her feet.

“Too bad I can’t carry you.”

“We could carry each other,” she mumbled.

He slung his arm around her waist, holding her up as they crossed the fifty yards to the cabin, which was set on blocks, raising it two feet above the forest floor.

She stared stupidly at the open door. “They left it open?”

“No. But they left a key under a rock out front,” he said as he helped her up four steps. He closed the door behind them and dropped a length of wood that acted as a bolt into a slot, sealing them inside.

She looked around, barely seeing the interior. It was simple and homey, with a fireplace of local rocks against one wall and a double bed with a metal frame opposite—topped by a warm quilt for a spread.

“Take off your clothes and get under the covers. I’m going to make a fire.”

She staggered to the bed and plopped down, but that was as far as she got. Too tired to undress, she kicked off her shoes, lay down and closed her eyes, listening to Cash moving around.

She dozed off until he shook her gently. “Can you get undressed?”

“I don’t think so.”

Sitting her up, he peeled off her wet shirt and pants, then her bra. She might have been embarrassed that she was almost naked in front of him with her nipples drawn into tight points by the cold, but embarrassment was too much trouble.

He left her damp panties on, then moved her aside to pull down the blankets and help her under, before covering her up again.

At first the bed was cold, but as it began to warm up her eyes flickered closed. When they opened again, she could see a fire crackling and realized Cash must have made it while she was dozing.

“Come to bed,” she whispered.

“I will. But I’ve got a couple of things to do.”

She watched him through slitted eyes, seeing he had exchanged his wet shirt and pants for others he must have found in the cabin. They looked too big.

She was sure his leg must be beyond painful, but he kept moving around. She saw him lay their wet clothing on the back and seat of a rocker by the fireplace where they would dry.

Then he went outside. She waited with her heart pounding for him to return. A few minutes later, he came back with more wood—and an ax.

She dozed again, then woke when she heard him doing something in the corner of the room. She tried to sit up and see what was going on, but all she could manage was a question.

“What?”

“Just go to sleep.”

“Um.”

She watched him take the Sig out of the waterproof pouch and replace the clip with a full one before setting it on the table by the bed. After stripping off his borrowed clothing, he slipped under the covers.

She’d warmed the bed, but it felt like an ice cube had joined her.

“You’re cold.”

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