Page 4 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men
“Paper towel then!” Oakley huffed, pointing toward the small, makeshift kitchen. “And some water.”
I hurried over and spun the faucet. Nothing happened. I banged it a few times, for no good reason other than I was a guy, and sometimes we banged things.
“Shit,” I spat. “Pipes are frozen.”
This time Oakley didn’t answer. I looked back and noticed the blonde had stopped crying. She’d stopped struggling. She’d stopped… well, pretty much everything.
“Damn,” my friend swore. “I think she’s in shock.”
I sighed and shook my head slowly. “She’s coming with us then.”
“No,” growled Oakley. “This isn’t our business.”
“Didn’t we just make it our business?”
He had no answer to that. He also didn’t look happy about it.
“And do you really want to leave her?” I challenged. “I mean, look at this place. It’s fucking freezing in here! She barely has any firewood, there’s no running water…”
“Yes, but—”
“The front door’s smashed in,” I went on. “She can’t close or lock it. Not to mention her shit-for-brains boyfriend is gonna come back here to beat on her some more. Probably the very moment we leave.”
Oakley was patting the side of her face rapidly, like you’d see in the movies. It wasn’t working.
“Look, I don’t like it either,” I admitted. “But there’s a bigger storm coming behind this one, and we’re not leaving her here. Not until we know she’s gonna be okay.”
With that, I scooped her right out of his arms and headed straight for the door. It stopped further protests, and it put things in motion. I liked things in motion.
Almost as much as I liked the feel of her warm body, secure in my arms.
~ 3 ~
CAMRYN
Even now, the whole thing felt like a dream.
I could recall details, but nothing more; bits and pieces of what happened. I remembered being carried outside, through the wind and bitter cold. There was a huge vehicle. Bigger than anything I’d seen.
And then we were rolling, rumbling along. Climbing higher and higher into the mountains, where nothing but darkness and shadows lurked behind the swirling snow.
The arms that carried me were strong, like pillars of iron. But they were gentle, too. I could remember huddling groggily, against some warm, sculpted chest. I felt weightless. Helpless…
And then the cold was gone, and I was somewhere warm again. Someplace grand and fantastic, yet still serene and cozy. Someplace lit from within by a comforting, orange glow.
I finally stirred, swinging my legs off a plush leather couch and feeling my socks touch a smooth wooden floor. My boots were gone. In my haze of pain and confusion, someone had pulled them from my feet.
“Here. Drink this.”
A steaming mug was shoved into my hands. I looked up into the familiar face of one of my rescuers — the tall, dark-haired one, who’d cradled me in his arms.
“And take these.”
He held out two capsules that I recognized immediately as ibuprofen. For some crazy reason he pressed them against my lips, and for some even more insane reason I opened my mouth and accepted them.
That’s when I saw my other hand, all bandaged up.
“There you go.”
