Page 79 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

I stop slipping and forget the pain in my elbow because my ankle is now screaming at me. Nausea floods through me, the kind that comes when you’ve really hurt yourself. I swallow hard and force my breathing to stay even. Panicking now will only make the situation worse. Way worse.

Turning my foot slightly, the damp of the forest floor soaking through my clothes, I can tell that the joint isn’t in great shape. The question now isn’t if I’m hurt or not — it’s if my ankle is okay enough to carry me back to my parents’ house.

Crawling out of the woods on my hands and knees does not sound appealing. Neither does sitting here and hoping someone comes by before night settles in.

I wiggle so that I can grasp the offending tree trunk with my hand. Taking a deep breath, I prepare to hoist myself to my feet.

Suddenly a shout rings out behind me. It’s followed by the sound of feet running through leaves.

Still huddled on the ground, I yell over my shoulder, “Careful! It’s slick! I almost went into the gulch.”

The footsteps slow and I turn to see who their owner is.

My breath catches in my throat when I see Ash heading straight for me with careful yet purposeful strides. My heart quickens at the sight of him, and my belly warms curiously. I stare at him, mouth dangling open, as I try to figure out what these sensations mean. I mean, it’sAsh, our family friend. But then he speaks, bringing me crashing back into the reality of my predicament.

He’s at my side, crouching down. One hand braces against the same tree I’m still touching. The arch of his arm over my head makes me feel small, but in a safe and comforting way. My ankle throbs, but the clouds of threatening panic swirling at the edges of my brain begin to clear. No matter what happens next, I know that I won’t be doing it alone. I know that Ash, as he always has, will help in every way that he can.

His gray eyes search my face. “Are you okay?” His brows knit in concern. “What happened?”

“I slipped and fell,” I said lamely, trying to ignore how fucking good he smells. “My ankle — I twisted it.”

“Can you stand?”

“I was just about to try.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners as the corners of his mouth lift, but I can see that he’s smiling through his worry. “Let’s get you up, then, and see where things stand.” He takes my free arm in his hands, then hesitates. “No pun intended.” Ash winks, and I can’t help but snort with amusement.

“You’re a regular comedian now, huh?” I retort, but my voice trembles and belies the tension and pain flowing through my body.

“You bet.” He squeezes my hand in his as, together, we stand. I try to use the tree to pull myself up, but my muscles surprise me with their noncompliance. I lean more of my weight on Ash than I intended. It doesn’t faze him, though — he’s as steady as a rock. I find myself wanting to put all of my weight on him, to feel his body against the length of mine, to experience his solid strength.

I shove the thought away. I must be getting all moony from the pain. He’s become my unwitting Florence Nightingale, and all I’m feeling is the effects of that, nothing more.

I think.

“How’s that?” His words force me back to reality.

With care, I let more of my weight lean on my right ankle. It holds for a moment, then folds with a crack of pain. I yelp and stagger a bit as I throw my weight back over onto my good ankle.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Ash murmurs. His hold on me is firm, and he doesn’t waver. The rootedness of his form next to me is enough to keep me from crying in hurt and frustration at the predicament I’ve gotten myself into.

“Now we know something about what we’re dealing with,” he continues, smiling at me. “We’ll get you back to the house and then go from there. What do you say?”

Looking into his warm eyes grounds me. I nod. “Right,” I say, hating how my voice wavers. “Let’s do this.”

He moves to my right side, the arm holding my left hand winding around my lower back. He takes my right hand in his free one, then looks at me. “Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect.” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve had time to consider them. They hang in the air between us, and I wonder if I should want to take them back, because I don’t.

His smile grows, but he ducks his face away so I can’t read his expression. “Then let’s get you home then, shall we?”

I nod again and we start off. My ankle throbs with every step. But by using only the ball and toes of my injured foot, heel hovering, I achieve something like walking with Ash’s help. Together, we move through the darkening forest, and I wonder if I’m the only one thinking about how oddly wonderful it is to be so close.

Ash

Iknow I should be focused on how to get Isla back to the house and then onto medical help without further injury. But all I can think about is how good she smells. Her head is so close to mine, hair haloing around her head, the scent of vanilla and something like wildfire smoke.

She’s right. Even with the injury and the quickly descending night, this feels perfect, being so close.

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