Page 34 of Suddenly Tempted
He expected her to ask more questions, to hunt for the truth like a journalist. Instead, she just nodded, and said nothing else. It was that silence, more than anything else — that silence, and the kind little smile she gave him — that made him feel like he was rolling right back down the mountain they were climbing. A freefall that scared him.
They walked side by side, swapping the jacket between them when they felt the cold biting, occasionally reaching out for one another and holding hands to help each other when they reached a crack in the rock, or a hillock of loose stones. They kept pace, step for step, working in such perfect harmony that it was as if they’d been climbing mountains together their whole lives. Darcy carried his case without once complaining about it, and on the three occasions he offered to take it back, she refused to even acknowledge him. It was just as well, because between his broken arm, and the ache in his other hand from holding onto the side of the ravine, he didn’t think he’d have been able to carry it another dozen yards.
“I feel like a goat,” Darcy said, taking the jacket back from Devlin and snuggling into it as they clambered across another rocky section.
She let out a cute little bleat and Devlin couldn’t help but laugh.
“A goat?” he asked. “Not Nibbles or Norman the rabbit.”
Darcy cocked her head at him.
“Hmm,” she replied. “Maybe more my style, I suppose. Timid.”
“But with a hefty kick on them,” Devlin added, pointedly, not wanting Darcy to see what he’d said as an insult. “And the way you moved your legs when you were sleeping last night, I’d say you’d give them a run for their money.”
The flush on Darcy’s cheeks deepened and she massaged her neck with her gloved hand.
“You know,” Devlin went on, digging himself into a ravine all of his own making. “I just mean that you moved in bed a lot, not that you kicked me.”
He was making it worse, and now all he could think about was Darcy asleep next to him on that uncomfortable mattress and the way she’d muttered in her sleep as she’d shuffled closer.
“Anyway, a goat you say?” He thought if he stopped talking then he might not melt into the snow like the bumbling fool he seemed to have turned into.
“Yep,” Darcy said, jumping down from a large rock and landing in the snow with a puff. “A sure-footed mountain goat. Like you see stuck to the sides of cliffs because they’re perched on a teeny tiny ledge. Darwinism at its finest.”
Devlin thought Darcy was Darwinism at its finest, but he kept that morsel to himself, watching as she trod ahead, still bleating like a baby goat, her arms outstretched for balance.
Half an hour passed in a heartbeat, and it was only then, as they began to round the side of the mountain, that Devlin noticed the sky growing dark. He’d been so focused on the route they were taking — and who was he kidding, Darcy too — that he hadn’t glanced upwards for some time. When he did, he saw the dark clouds gathering around the mountains at the horizon. His heart tumbled into his boots with the same speed he’d tumbled into the crevasse.
“That’s bad, right?” asked Darcy, noticing where he was looking. “A big cloud like that isn’t bringing good things with it.”
“Not necessarily,” he said, shivering hard. “It might not come this way.”
Darcy hummed sceptically and she was right to, because it did. Twenty minutes later and the stormfront was so close he could smell it, the air coppery and sharp and weirdly electric. He had no idea what the time was, and he couldn’t see the sun any more through the heavy, yellow-black clouds. They were bloated with snow, and judging by the fact he couldn’t see the farthest mountains anymore, either, he knew it was already falling hard.
“The ranger’s outpost station should be right around the corner,” he said, a sudden wind lifting his words away. It kicked up powder from the ground and threw it at him, and he felt the temperature of his body slip another few degrees.
The first flakes of snow were beginning to fall from the ever-darkening sky, but as they passed a giant fist of rock that protruded from the mountainside, Devlin spotted lights up ahead.
“There,” he called out, and Darcy whooped with joy.
The ranger’s station sat on a ledge of rock between two jutting trunks of mountain, light blazing from its windows. Three giant radio antennae stood to attention on the roof. Devlin had a moment to feel hopeful before he noticed that the landing pad was empty.
“You think there’s somebody there?” Darcy asked, waving snow away from her face.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter. It’s warm, there will be food, and most importantly, a working radio. Come on, one last push.”
He put his head down, holding Darcy’s hand as they stumbled through the last of the snow and onto the natural stone staircase that rose to the station. He felt Darcy slowing down, her hand pulling at his as the snow started falling thick and deep, the wind snatching at their clothes. Giving her hand a squeeze of encouragement, he nodded at her through the quickly diminishing visibility. A silent push. He knew she could do it — she just needed to believe it herself. He got to the door, grabbing the handle and pushing it open.
“After you,” he shouted, holding himself strong against the battering winds and snow.
Darcy tucked herself into him, and her body angled against the strength of the winds, she almost fell through the doorway to safety. He followed, pushing the door against the growing storm with his whole body weight until he heard it click shut. It was warm and quiet away from the winds. They were safe.
And, it would seem, alone.
Chapter 18
DARCY
