Page 63 of Bad Rio

Halfway to her goal, she nearly quit. The countryside was rough, the mountain steep, and the snow and ice seemed just as far away as it had when she’d started an hour before. At times she had to use her hands to claw her way upward.

Only the thought of all their food decaying and of Rio unable to care for himself pushed her on. Glad of her nuts, she stopped to rest for a few minutes, ate them hungrily and drank half her water bottle. As she pushed on, at last the air cooled and she saw that the tree line had changed. Tall coniferous pines and fir trees now grew and snow collected on their upper branches.

She wasn’t there yet. Still Becca climbed. It became cold, as cold as it had been when she was at the cabin before. Even in her coat, she shivered.

Finally, she got high enough to crunch on snow underfoot. She didn’t want snow, however, she wanted ice.

Taking the screwdriver and plastic bags from her pocket, she found a rock crevice frozen over and hacked at a hunk of the frozen stuff until she had large chunks for her bags. Within ten minutes she had enough to satisfy her, and slung the heavy bags over her shoulder. The blue ice packs she buried in the snow, and left them. Later, when she needed to replenish their reserves, she’d return for them. If they would freeze again, they’d be far more valuable than the ice, which would melt too quickly to last.

Descending the mountain was easier than climbing it, but with her added burden, she slipped and slid on loose soil. The bags of hard ice banged into her back and she cursed. Thinking of the ibuprofen down in the cabin, she decided her muscles would be sore. She would need a few.

In less than half the time it took to go up, she reached the shack. Wanting to be prepared for anything, she took a few moments to use Rio’s gas cans in the brush to refuel the scooter and then hide it beneath the tarp. The skies were darkening into dusk.

As she was gratefully building their first small fire in the hearth, Rio awoke. She turned to him and smiled.

“Buttercup,” he said. “Come here. Please.”

Moving to his side, she crouched beside the bed.

He raised a hand to smooth her hair. “Thank you. For everything. For getting me here—it was a good decision. You didn’t have to do that. I’m nothing to you.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then decided to change her answer. “You saved my life a few times. I’m just repaying the favor.” And he wassomethingto her. She just wasn’t sure yet what that something was.

“Yeah, well, I was getting paid for that.”

“You can pay me.” She laid her index finger beside her mouth. “The price is ... one million dollars.”

He cracked a small smile. His eyes moved to the fireplace. “The heat feels good.” After a minute he closed his eyes. “I’m so tired. And I gotta pee.”

“Can you make it outside the door? I’ll help you.”

“Yeah.” With effort he sat up, groaned, and rested a moment.

Becca helped by swinging his legs over the side of the bed until his feet were flat on the floor. She slipped his tennis shoes on his feet and helped him up.

He swayed, shuffled to the door, and she unlatched it.

Outside, she wedged herself under his arm and waited while he did his business. Back inside, he fell onto the bed and didn’t move.

“You can’t go to sleep yet,” she told him. “First, more food, and then another pill.”

Sorting through the now ice-filled cooler, she pulled out an orange, two enchiladas, and more water. While she peeled the orange, she set the two foil-wrapped enchiladas close to the fire.

Within an hour they’d eaten, he’d taken his pill, and had fallen into a deep, peaceful slumber. Becca was glad, because she knew his fit, healthy body was healing itself.

Turning off the lantern, Becca unearthed the package of ground coffee and poured a healthy measure into a battered percolator coffee pot she found beside the hearth. She filled it with water and set it into the coals. When it was ready, she raised a chipped cup to her mouth and sighed in pleasure. Rich aroma wafted to her nostrils and she inhaled deeply. How she loved coffee!

Nursing the hot drink, she watched the firelight play over Rio’s face. He was truly handsome, with his sun-god good looks and strong body. Her heart squeezed.

Over these past days of danger and uncertainty, she didn’t know what she would have done without him. Probably she’d have been killed. Whether he was being paid or not, she owed him her life. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d gone over and above any professional obligation.

All at once she realized that she didn’t want her time with him to end. She didn’t want him to move onto his next post. In some capacity, she wanted him in her life. She wanted him.

Their explosive attraction would never be lasting. She knew that. Like a winter bonfire, flaming brightly and then dying with the cooling advent of spring, it would expire. She knew their relationship, such as it was, had been born of a woman in need and of a man doing a job, nothing more.

Two people had been thrown together into harrowing circumstances and turned to one another for comfort. Their coupling was transitory, temporary, fleeting.

Still, watching the play of light on his features, she drew in deep breaths. Whatever time they might have together, she would make the most of it. She wanted to help him get better, to enjoy his company, to make love again.

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