No Safe Haven

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  "Cole!" Mom glared at him with such heat I thought the glaciers would melt. "You are by far—"

  "No!" Cole's voice boomed and echoed. With each word his voice rose. "You are going to set your little injured self on the snow and stay right there while I take care of this!"

  "While I take care of this . . . While I take care of this . . . While I take care of this . . ." I looked at the peaks surrounding us as his words echoed.

  "Wow!" I clapped and jumped up and down in a circle. "Do that again, do that again!" I laughed as Cole's words continued to echo.

  "While I take care of this . . ."

  Mom and Cole turned to me.

  "I found your nickname." I couldn't hold back a grin. "I hereby name you Echo!"

  Cole's eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched. "What did you just say?"

  "I said I hereby name you Echo! I think it fits perfectly. Einstein and Echo, sounds nice . . ." My smile faded at his expression, and a shiver raced up my spine.

  "Why?" He glared.

  "Um, duh! Did you not just hear your voice?" Was he mad at me now? I stopped jumping and stood there. What did I say wrong?

  Mom sighed, her glare deepening. "Look, Cole—"

  Cole held up a hand. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

  Mom nodded, gave a small "you're forgiven," and turned around mumbling to herself.

  I stared at them.

  Was it something I said?

  Cole walked over, secured our harnesses and packs, then started climbing. Within the first ten minutes, I ran out of breath and the snow got bigger.

  And fell faster.

  My mind was distracted, I could barely keep track of where I put my feet. A chill ran up and down my spine. Last time I couldn't keep cool, now I can't keep warm . . .

  My fingers started to go numb.

  Don't slip, don't slip, don't slip. Whatever you do, don't slip.

  I took another step, then paused.

  I couldn't feel Cole tugging the rope as he climbed.

  I jerked my head up. Walls of white surrounded me each direction I looked. I could barely see my own hands on the rope.

  My eyes widened.

  "Cole!"

  * * *

  COLE

  April 7

  Sultana, Denali National Park

  4:35 p.m.

  A whiteout.

  Just what he needed.

  Huffing and puffing inside his ski mask, Cole scolded himself. I've put us all in danger. And that tenacious kid had put her trust in him.

  He failed. Again.

  To make matters worse, the little snit had to go and give him a nickname. And it hit just a little too close to home. He clamped his jaw, grinding his teeth.

  His legs felt like Jell-O, his lungs burned from the brutal cold. Wind whipped around him trying to steal the pack from him. There was nowhere to go.

  Blinking his eyes, he rubbed the front of his goggles with his gloves. Still nothing. Too much snow. Too much wind. And he'd pushed too far, too long.

  Kneeling in the snow, he heaved the pack from his back. Time to seek shelter.

  Past time.

  Cole turned around and sat in the snow. He couldn't see any trace of the girls behind him and the rope between him and Andie was only ten feet long. Anchoring his crampons in the snow beneath him, he tugged on the line. The rope became taut as he dragged the two girls up the side of the mountain. Each pull took an enormous amount of effort and air. For each six inches of rope he tugged closer, it took thirty seconds to catch his breath and start again.

  Taking too long. They worked their way up as well, the rope would slack, he'd gain more ground, but not fast enough for his liking. Fear and exhaustion were probably taking their toll on the girls. They couldn't take this.

  The storm churned around him.

  The wind deafened him.

  His heart hammered harder in his chest, beating out the rhythm . . . you've killed them, you've killed them, you've killed them . . .

  No! He'd made a promise. And he cared . . .

  Images floated into his mind, and he was too tired to stop them.

  The hospital.

  The gurneys.

  The white sheets.

  The police officer offering his stilted condolences . . .

  He lost his grip and the rope slipped through his fingers. No!

  Cole shook his head, clenched his teeth, and uttered a guttural cry into the wind as he caught the rope. He couldn't lose Jenna and Andie. Not now. With everything in him, he pulled on that rope. Inch by solitary inch, he dragged the girls to him.

  His girls.

  They needed him. And he needed them.

  A weight the size of Denali dropped into his gut.

  His heart had been opened, and there was no stopping it now.

  CHAPTER TEN

  JENNA

  April 7

  Sultana, Denali National Park

  5:00 p.m.

  Jenna's leg, shocked with pain, went numb and gave out. Again. Falling to the snow-covered mountainside, she cried. She couldn't see anything, hear anything, and her leg throbbed in time to the gusts of wind pelting her body. The hard tugging on the rope attached to her brought her head back up. Pull it together, girl. Andie needs you.

  She struggled to her feet and forced the fear to the back of her mind. Each step took extraordinary effort and she'd run out of water fifteen minutes before. Nothing to see but the rope in her hands and the cloud of white. Everywhere. A strange sensation prickled her skin. The white closed in. Claustrophobic feelings overwhelmed her common sense.

  She felt blind.

  Her breaths were short. There was no way to get enough air, and her muscles burned with the lack of oxygen. Suck it up, Jenna. Keep going. One step at a time. She would not abandon her daughter.

  It seemed an eternity had passed.

  One small step, a few more inches of rope. Another small step.

  And then a small, gloved hand grabbed onto hers. Andie! Giant arms wrapped them both in a fierce hug.

  She'd made it.

  Exhaustion made her body weak. If Cole hadn't been holding them up, she would've collapsed in the snow. Relief flooded through her at holding Andie close, but the horrific pain from her leg throbbed into her brain. Her breaths came faster.

  How would they survive in this storm?

  Cole's intimate presence swallowed her before she saw what he was doing. His hand was on her ski mask-covered face as he pulled back her hood. Warm breath seeped through the material protecting her skin, until she felt his lips pressed against her ear. She sucked in her breath as tingles shot through her body.

  "Jenna." His warm breath skated along her earlobe and neck.

  He'd come this close so she could hear. Nothing more. She needed to remind herself of that fact.

  "I'm going to build a snow cave for us, and I might need your help. Are you okay?"

  She nodded, unable to speak with him so near. He wouldn't have heard her anyway.

  "Hold onto Andie, stay tethered. I'm going to get it started, and you two will at least have a little cover while I dig out the rest."

  Her head bobbed.

  His mouth lingered against her ear like he had more to say, but after a moment he drew away.

  The rope pulled and tugged at her as he worked a few feet away. She brought Andie close and hugged her tight. There was nothing like having her daughter near.

  Andie pulled away slightly and reached for her water bottle under her coat. After taking a sip, she offered it to Jenna.

  Blessed water. There couldn't be a better gift than that. She was so thirsty. Before she realized it, she'd dru
nk the whole bottle, the excess on her lips turning to ice before it could even dribble down into her ski mask.

  She covered her face, turned Andie around, and tucked the empty bottle inside her pack. Grabbing her daughter's hand, she tugged her to the ground where they sat huddled together.

  Squinting, she attempted to see through the snow to Cole. But the blizzard didn't allow her to see him working—working to save their lives. Once again.

  She'd been so hard on him. That wasn't her intention, but he brought out the worst in her. At least when it came to being in charge and protecting Andie. Something else stirred in the pit of her stomach. Marc had been gone a year, and she promised herself she could never love again. But she was lonely. And had to admit that always having to take care of things weighed her down. Even though he exasperated her, it was nice to have a strong, protective, hunky guy watching out for them.

  A harsh realization slammed into her: Cole needed prayer. No matter what happened between them, she needed to pray for him. Especially now as he was risking his life to save theirs.

  Bowing her head, she reached for both of Andie's hands. The wind would keep them from hearing each other, but Jenna knew that her daughter would be praying as well.

  She prayed aloud, letting the wind and snow whip her words up to the heavens. "Lord, I feel so small right now. We're lost and in danger, I've never been more scared in my life, but I know You are still in control. I don't understand why people are after us, but please keep us safe."

  A hand on her shoulder brought her head up. Cole lifted her out of the snow. When her leg gave out and she stumbled forward, he caught her in his arms. She straightened and for a brief moment relished the comfort of those strong arms around her. How long had it been since someone had held her? Protected her?

  Cole kept one arm around her waist as he reached out for Andie and hauled them both a few feet to the right. In a matter of seconds, he lowered himself to his hands and knees and brought them with him to the opening of a snow cave.

  Guiding them inside, he motioned for them to stay, then he went back into the swirling white of the storm.

  Jenna unattached her harness and yanked all the gear off her head. Oh, how wonderful it was to breathe without all the cloth over her face. She helped Andie get out of her harness, and smiled at her daughter, watching her remove all the layers from her face. "Sweetie, it is so good to see your pretty eyes."

  They hugged again.

  Andie sighed.

  Enjoying the warmth without a wind chill, Jenna looked around. Where they sat was barely big enough for all of them to sit huddled together, but it was secure. The opening had to be crawled through, but she knew enough about snow caves to understand the basics. They would put their packs in the opening when they were all done to protect them from the elements.

  She observed three ventilation holes that he'd made above their heads, but they'd have to keep punching their ice axes through if the weather continued like this. They'd need fresh air, but with it still snowing, the holes could fill up fast.

  A small battery lantern lit up the space, casting a yellowish glow onto the snow.

  Cole crawled back through the opening and shoved all their gear into the hole he'd vacated.

  The space shrank with his large presence.

  "Hi." He took off his hat, goggles, and ski mask.

  "Hi." She and Andie spoke at the same time.

  "Well," he grinned at them, "I know it's kind of small, but I'm about to remedy that."

  Jenna nodded her agreement.

  "Can I help?"

  Cole smiled at Andie. "Sure thing, Einstein. But you and your mom need to scoot over to the entrance by the packs. Get as close together as you can because I've got to stretch out to do this, okay?"

  "Okey dokey." Andie did as she was told.

  His light brown hair stuck to his head all matted down from the mask and hat. It was kinda cute. Jenna watched this giant of a man try to maneuver in the tiny space. He must have sensed her scrutiny because he looked at her with those chocolate-brown eyes as the edges of his mouth lifted. Jenna froze as his gaze captured hers.

  "Jenna, I'm gonna need you to man the bucket. As I dig out each tunnel, you'll need to get the snow outside." He turned his attention to Andie. "When I'm done with each tunnel, you need to come behind me with that smaller shovel and pack it all in, smooth it over. Make sense?"

  "Yep. My dad and I used to make forts when I was little. He always talked about how to make snow caves in case we ever got stranded."

  Cole took the larger hand-shovel and began on the first sleeping tunnel. He looked back at Jenna. "Hey, you might want to pray I don't hit any rock." Turning his head back to the task at hand, he chuckled.

  Jenna laughed along, but took his suggestion to heart. In a blizzard, no one can be sure about the terrain around them. Any large rocks in this area could make it difficult for all of them to be able to stretch out and sleep. So she prayed and waited until he'd accumulated a good pile of snow behind him before she moved the packs and hauled it out the entrance. The wind took her breath away. A stake marking the entrance with rope tied to it leading out into the blizzard caught her attention. Unsure where the rope led, she understood that he had given them a small way to find the cave if they needed to venture out.

  Bucket after bucket, she threw the snow to the right of their "doorway," down the mountainside. She crawled back inside.

  Stopping for water, she noted the progress they'd made. Cole was already digging the last of the three tunnels, while Andie worked in the middle one smoothing and packing the snow. Marc had told her that people could survive long periods of time in snow caves, but she hoped they wouldn't have to personally prove those facts.

  Water slid down her throat as she took another sip. Exhaustion set in again. Her limbs ached, her lungs burned.

  Cole scooted out of the last tunnel with a big grin on his face. "All done. Andie can finish packing it out." He patted her arm. "You look done in, Jenna. Let me haul out the rest of the snow. There's not much left."

  It took all her energy to nod. She really should help finish getting things set up, they all needed food, water, and rest. Plenty of rest.

  Andie finished smoothing out the last tunnel as Cole hauled out the snow.

  Jenna grabbed the sleeping bags and laid one out in each tunnel. He'd made the middle one longer. Probably to accommodate his tall frame.

  "Hey, Mom, I'm hungry. Can we eat something?" Andie bounced up and down on her knees.

  "You bet." Jenna pulled her pack toward her. "As soon as Cole is back in—"

  Cole's head appeared in the opening at that moment. "Who's hungry? 'Cause I'm starved."

  Andie smiled at him, and helped him stow some of their gear back into the hole, blocking out all the nasty weather outside. She brushed the snow off his head and shoulders as he rubbed his gloved hands together.

  Jenna brought out beef jerky, trail mix, and a few protein bars. They were all so close together, it was a tad bit awkward. As they sat crisscross-applesauce, their knees touched. She wasn't used to sharing space like this with anyone other than her daughter since Marc died. The closeness of Cole made her flush. No, maybe it was just the heat from her leg. With her leg bent, the throbbing and heat became more prominent.

  "I'll pray," Andie announced as Jenna redirected her focus on passing out the food.

  Cole's eyes widened but he didn't say anything.

  "Go for it." Jenna smiled at her daughter.

  "Dear God, thank You for this food and for Mom and Cole and this really cool snow cave. Please keep us from any more crashes . . ." she took a deep breath, "explosions, avalanches, bad guys, and injuries. And we could really use some help getting home. In Jesus' name, Amen."

  Jenna watched Andie tear into the food, and Cole stare at her dau
ghter with his mouth half open. He obviously wasn't used to the bubbly, unashamed-of-her-faith, tell-it-like-it-is Andie. Or, he wasn't used to prayer. Either way the man was in for an adventure.

  Their food quickly consumed, Jenna passed out water bottles, and collected the trash. She really needed some sleep. Certainly she could feel 100 percent tomorrow if she could just get some sleep.

  "Hey, Mom?"

  "Hmm?"

  "I need to use the little girl's room."

  They both looked to Cole for direction.

  "There's a container in my bag for that." His words were nonchalant.

  "Ewww!"

  "No. I don't think so." Jenna spoke at the same time as her daughter. "And please remember, we are not of the male species." She crossed her arms for effect.

  Cole looked up this time and laughed. "Yeah, thought you'd say that." He raked his hand through his hair and nailed Jenna with his firm stare. "You do realize there's a blizzard going on outside?"

  "Yes."

  "And you realize how cold it is? And how fast things . . . um . . . freeze at these temperatures?"

  Andie threw a glove at him. "That's just gross." But she giggled as she said it.

  Jenna felt the heat creep up her neck, flooding her cheeks. "I think we are very aware. We are native Alaskans, Mr. Maddox. Ahtna-Athabaskan, to be precise. Our ancestors have been on this land for generations." She forced herself to look him in the eye, even though she had to admit she was embarrassed by the situation and her little tirade. "But you must understand that there is no way we could possibly . . . well, you know . . . in front of a . . . a man!"

  Cole opened and then closed his mouth. Then opened it again. "I do understand. That's why I staked out the entrance and roped it to another stake several yards away. There's a tiny snow cave at the end of that stake. And I do mean tiny. So, one of you will have to stand guard outside. I dug a hole for, well . . . you know, but at least you'll be protected from the elements."

  "Okay, okay!" Jenna held up her hands to cut him off. "We don't need to discuss it in detail. Andie and I understand survival in the bush."