Page 90 of Chasing the Wild
Right in front of the wood pile and only a matter of inches from where I currently stand, now trembling.
Everything feels too confusing. My mind tries to piece things together in a flurry. Colt never mentioned bears or traps or anything of the sort up here on the ranch. Bear traps are illegal, aren’t they? He certainly wouldn’t take the trouble of showing me where this supply of wood was located and forget to point out something as dangerous as this.
If I’d stepped a foot to the side—If I’d stretched and lunged for that piece of wood only a tiny fraction to my right—it would be my leg currently mangled in those powerful, flesh-ripping teeth.
My hand flies up to cover my mouth as I suppress a cry. I’m chilled to the bone, too stunned to move. Too terrified to take a step or shift my weight. What if there are more of them hidden beneath the snow out here? As my wide eyes survey the layer of white all around me, the plummeting realization lurches in my stomach that I’m essentially standing in what could be a minefield.
It’s impossible to tell what might lurk beneath the surface of the innocent-looking white blanket stretching out in all directions.
“Layla, you out here?” The sound of Colt’s voice drifts from near the entrance to the barn. Oh, god. I don’t know what to do. Fear has frozen me to the spot, like the icicles clinging to the pine trees behind me.
“Colt—” I croak out his name. Fuck, why do I feel like bursting into tears? I don’t even think as I call for him, but it’sonly when he approaches round the side of the barn that my panic morphs into a different emotion entirely.
What if he gets hurt? I can’t be the one responsible for him getting hurt.
“Wait. WAIT.” My hands fly out, sounding like a woman possessed even to my own ears as I yell at him. “Don’t move.”
“Layla?” He strides toward me, and blood pounds in my ears as I have an instant meltdown watching his boots hit the fresh snow one after the other. Crunching footsteps that I’m certain are going to end in bloodshed with every step nearer.
“Stop… Stop walking. Don’t come any closer.” Tears prick the back of my eyes. I’m not good at any of this, and I’m so confused and shocked and don’t fucking know how to handle this situation.
Thankfully, he stops and gives me a look from behind dark, furrowed brows.
“What’s going on?”
“The snow. There are traps. Fuck. I don’t want you to get injured. Please don’t come closer.” I’m an incoherent stream of babbling words.
My voice is too high-pitched and panicky, and Colt closes the distance between us, almost jogging, before I can stop him. “Layla, are you ok?” He’s moving faster than I can do anything to change his mind, with concern written all over his face, and I’m urging him to stand still. Just fucking stop. Don’t keep walking over here because I have no idea what I’ll do if there’s another set of those brutal steel teeth that snap up out of nowhere.
“What happened to you? Baby, show me where you’re hurt.” He’s on me before I can do anything about it. His big hands cup my face while all the blood drains from my limbs.
“Don’t move. Don’t step anywhere. Just stay still.” My fists grip the front of his jacket like I’m clinging onto him for dear life, and right now, he’s the only thing holding me upright.
“You get hurt?” He repeats again, voice gruff but soft in his way that he always is. Always so endlessly caring as his hazel gaze, alert and filled with concern, flickers over my body.
“Traps.” I stammer. “Under the snow.”
“Traps?”
“Right there. I don’t know how many.” Each knuckle turns white under the force of how tight I’m clinging to his jacket, because I can’t handle the thought of him stepping to one side. I’m certain that if I don’t anchor him in place with every ounce of strength I’ve got, he’s going to end up mangled and bloody and broken.
“Where?” His voice is so fucking steady. Sure and certain, and with an even tone that reaches into my brain and works some kind of magic because the grip of panic I’d been locked in seconds ago loosens its constrictive hold.
How is he able to talk me down off the ledge so effortlessly, every single time?
“By the wood. Please don’t move your feet. Please stand still.” God, the way my voice sounds so shaky when he’s the picture of calm. How the fuck does he do all this on his own? He’s as rock solid as this mountain, and I’m nothing more than a snowflake ready to melt at the first sign of inclement conditions.
Colt tugs me against his chest, wrapping one palm around to nestle between my shoulder blades, while the other strokes my hair. He smells like the horses and the open plains and sweat from his day’s work. My knees just about buckle as that scent rolls through me, soothing and comforting as if it’s his goddamn superpower.
“You’re ok.” The rumble of his voice comes through beneath my ear. “You left perfect tracks in the snow, baby. All we’re going to do is walk exactly where you stepped before, ok? I’m going to go first, and you follow right behind me and that’s all we’re going to do. I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
Words I can honestly say, hand on my shaken-up heart, I don’t think I’ve ever had spoken to me before.
For my entire life, I’ve had to go it alone. Other than my brief time living with Evaline, and the way my aunt took care of me to the best of her abilities, I’ve never had anyone tell me it’s going to be ok with that sonorous voice and steadfast energy. As he speaks, the words don't just flow out of Colt’s mouth, his voice radiates off him like a fire emitting warmth and light and sustenance.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I nod against his broad chest. It takes everything in me to block out the three little words swimming around my brain. Words threatening to blurt out an entirely inappropriate confession of how deeply I’ve fallen for the man currently holding me and calming me.
