Page 83 of Snowed In With the Mountain Man
He shot her a glare as he knelt over the limb that was holding her hostage. “Now is not the time to argue.”
The fact that she had no response to that had him more alarmed than anything. He tugged on the tree limb. Too heavy for him to lift much on his own. He’d have to make space below so when he lifted it by a couple inches, she could pull her foot free.
It only took him seconds to realize what had to be done, but in that time, she’d started to shake visibly, her fingers clutching the coat with white knuckles.
From this vantage point, it was clear that her clothes were soaked through. No doubt her boots too, since she’d been wearing Lizzy’s, which were meant for staying warm by the fire, not trekking through the elements.
“I’ll get you out of here in no time,” he promised. “Just stay still, okay?”
She nodded as another violent shiver racked her frame.
He hadn’t thought to put on gloves, and there was no time now, so with bare hands, he dug into the ice and snow packed in around her leg and ankle, trying to make some space so he could wiggle her foot free.
Every few seconds, he glanced back toward her face to make sure she hadn’t passed out. Every time his gaze met hers, he felt a flicker of relief.
Dahlia was still awake and alert.
She wasn’t a frail woman by any means, but lying here in the snow, she wasn’t the big baddie she pretended to be either. Her jaw was clenched, her expression determined—but no amount of attitude could save a person from hypothermia.
His fingers hurt as he dug through the snow, but by the time he’d made a hole wide and deep enough around her foot and lower leg, he couldn’t even feel them. He gave his hands a shake, frustrated by his own body’s weakness in this cold.
“You ready?” He stood, spreading his feet for balance. “When I say so, try and pull your foot free, okay?”
She nodded as her teeth chattered violently.
Fear surged through him. He needed both hands to lift the limb, but what if she didn’t have enough strength to pull her foot free?
Just lift the tree, JJ!
“Okay. One, two… three!” He grabbed the limb, his muscles straining as he lifted it away from her. Dahlia grunted as she used her hands to shove herself back. It was a struggle, and JJ was close to dropping the heavy wood, but Dahlia wrestled her foot free in the nick of time.
He dropped the limb and was rewarded with a sharp sting down the middle of his hand. He gripped his fingers into a fist. It felt like the mother of all splinters had found a home in his palm. It hurt, but he could deal with it later.
He had much bigger problems to solve first.
Dahlia was leaning over her ankle, her face a mask of pain.
He hoped she was right that it wasn’t broken, but even so, she couldn’t walk on it.
He bent over her, readjusting the coat as best he could. “I’m gonna lift you up.” He started to slide a hand beneath her knees, but she slapped at his shoulders.
“I-I can walk,” she said. “It’ll be faster.”
He wanted to argue with her, but he suspected she might be right. The ground was uneven, the snow thick and hard to manage. If he carried her, there was a good chance he’d lose his balance.
“You lean on me,” he growled as he helped her up onto her good foot.
She nodded. “I can do this.”
It would have been far more convincing if her voice wasn’t trembling and her body shaking like an earthquake was ripping through her.
Fear blasted him as they started off slowly, his arm around her waist as he tried to take as much of her weight as possible while still negotiating the peaks and valleys of the snowdrifts that blocked their path back to the cabin.
They were passing a tree when Dahlia lost her balance while limping against him. JJ reached out to grab the trunk for balance, and even through the frigid numbness that had his fingers feeling like icicles, he felt bark cut into his palm where it had already been scraped and battered. He grunted in pain.
“Are you okay?” Dahlia asked.
He looked down at her. With her face tipped up to look at him, her hair blowing around her, and those glazed eyes filled with concern…
