She took hold of his sleeve, her sharp green eyes direct, her expression defiant. “We’re a team, and together we can conquer the world if we want to, and trump Providence without even breaking a sweat.” She reached down, lifted his hand, and fingered his ring. “Apparently I’m the one who forgot that the unconditional part of love works both ways,” she whispered, smiling crookedly as she raised her eyes back to his. “I love you, Luke, for exactly who you are.”
He slowly set the pot down in the snow before he dropped it, then just as slowly pulled her into his arms and held her against him with a sigh. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. “For loving me just that much.”
She melted into him, her own sigh barely audible over the sound of slurping.
“What the . . . ?” Luke glanced down to see Tigger’s nose driven into the pot of soup. “Hey, that’s mine!” he yelped, grabbing the dachshund and shoving her at Camry. “Your dog was eating my soup!”
“My dog? You were the one calling himself Daddy yesterday.”
Luke picked up the pot and sat down, holding it protectively against his chest when Max came bounding up, his tongue licking his sniffing nose. “I think we should hook them up to the sled and make them pull us today.”
“Come on, guys,” she said with a giggle as she scrambled to her feet. “Let’s go pack up while Daddy eats his breakfast. We all have a long day ahead of us. But just think about the fabulous tales you’ll have to tell Suki and Ruffles when you get back,” she pointed out to them, her voice trailing off as she ducked into the shelter.
Luke frowned down at his soup, then used his finger to flick a whisker off the rim before he drank right out of the pot. Hell, if he was going to play the part of a sled dog today, what was a little hair in his soup?
Chapter Nineteen
Despite the ineffectual sun hanging low in the southern sky, Luke was a ball of sweat not two hours into their trek. Breathing heavily from the incline that traveled along the ridge rising sharply to their left, he stopped in the middle of the tote road, shrugged off the rope, and flexed his shoulders. He pulled his GPS out of his pocket, punched some buttons, and realized they were only a couple of miles from the turnoff to Pine Creek, which still left another twenty-three miles after that.
“Okay, everyone walks for a while,” he said, tucking the GPS back in his pocket, then putting his gloves back on. “Except Tigger, I suppose.”
Camry had just set Tigger forward between her legs to stand up when a low rumbling whispered through the air. “What’s that?” she asked, glancing around.
Luke looked up, adrenaline spiking through him when he saw the sheet of snow sliding down the exposed ridge above, heading straight toward them. “Avalanche!” he shouted, immediately snatching up the rope. “Stay in the sled! You won’t be able to run in the deep snow!”
“Max! Come!” she cried, falling back when Luke jerked the sled and ran.
The rumble grew louder, echoing down the steep granite gorge, the snow pushing an icy wave of air ahead of it that sent chills racing up Luke’s spine. He veered toward the stand of trees growing on the edge of the wash, but his snowshoes caught in the jumble of talus from previous rockslides, and he fell to his knees. He gave one last mighty heave on the rope to pull the sled past him, Camry’s scream drowned out by the wall of snow slamming into them.
The rope jerked out of his hands, then tangled on one of his snowshoes as Luke helplessly tumbled in a sea of churning white, all the while fighting not to lose contact with the sled. The noise was deafening, the snow unbelievably heavy as it meted out its endless battering. The lacing on one of his boots snapped, the snowshoe attached to it pulling the boot off his foot. His hand scraped what felt like metal, but just then the rope gave a sharp tug before ripping the other snowshoe off his boot, releasing him to continue his turbulent free fall alone.
And just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended.
Luke slammed against an unmovable object, the air rushing from his lungs in a whoosh. An eerie silence settled around him, his body sheathed in what felt like concrete, every damn cell in his body screaming in agony. The snow had packed around him like a vise, squeezing his lungs and making it nearly impossible to breathe; when he opened his eyes, he literally couldn’t see past his nose.
Camry! Unable even to hear his own scream, Luke frantically wiggled back and forth to free himself. His fingers brushed what felt like bark, and as he slowly increased the cavity around him, his knee connected with the tree that had stopped his fall.
Slowly, painstakingly, he was able to work his arms up beside his head, and he dug the snow out of his ears. He stilled, listening for any sound that might tell him Camry was okay, or at least that Max had made it to safety. But when he heard only the blood pounding through his veins, Luke focused on figuring out which way was up. His guess, based on the fact that the more he wiggled the farther he settled to his left, made him start digging past his right shoulder.
His fist suddenly punched through to open air! He gritted his teeth against the protest of his battered muscles and started jackknifing his body as he pushed at the snow above him. He suddenly heard barking. “Max!” he shouted through the small opening he was creating. “That’s my boy! Come on, Max!”
The opening suddenly closed when a nose drove into it, and a warm tongue shot out and touched his wrist.
“Thatta boy, Max!” Luke said with a laugh. “Come find me, boy. Dig!”
With Max digging down from the top and Luke clawing his way up, he was finally able to break his upper torso free. “Good boy!” he chortled when Max lunged at his chest and started licking his face. He pushed the dog away, pointing beside him. “Keep digging. I’ve got to get free so we can find Camry.”
With Max’s help, Luke was finally able to lever himself up and crawl on top of the snow. He immediately got to his knees and looked around. “Okay, Max. Use that wonderful nose of yours and find Camry. Come on,” he said, scrambling to his feet, again ignoring his screaming muscles and the fact that he had only one boot. He clapped his hands excitedly. “Find Camry, Max!”
The Lab immediately jumped into the hole from which Luke had just emerged, and started whining and sniffing around.
“She’s not in there. Come on, let’s play hide-and-seek. Find Camry!” he repeated, slapping his leg to urge the dog out. “And Tigger. Let’s go find Tigger!”
Luke took several steps onto the uneven tangle of packed snow, his hopes rising when he realized it had been a relatively small slide, only about a hundred feet wide and two hundred yards long. He looked around for anything dark, like a hat or glove or . . . anything. He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Camry!”
He stilled, listening. “Goddammit, Camry, answer me!”
But all he heard was terrifying silence.
“Okay, AuClair,” he growled, stumbling to the center of the small avalanche field. “If you’re my greatest ally, then help me find my miracle!”
Luke was trembling so badly that he had to stop, plant his feet, and rest his hands on his knees in an attempt to calm his racing heart. “Help me,” he whispered, closing his eyes against his burning tears. “Show me where to look.”
He suddenly held his breath, not moving a muscle when he heard a faint chirping sound. Still not breathing, he cocked his head one way and then the other.
There—just to his left: that unmistakable chirp of Podly’s transmitter! The last he remembered seeing it, Camry had tucked it in her jacket pocket in order to read the note Roger had left him.
Could it still be in her pocket?
“Max! Come!” he called, taking several steps to the left and dropping to his knees. He grabbed the excited dog and held him still. “Listen.”
And there it was again, a slightly louder chirp.
“Hear that, boy? Get the toy. Come on, dig up the toy!” he urged, driving his hands into the snow. “Dig, Max!”
They dug a hole at least three feet deep before Max suddenly lifted his he
ad, a tiny wizard’s hat in his mouth.
“Yes, you found Tigger!” Luke cried, digging frantically. If Tigger was here, there was a good chance Camry was with her.
His hand suddenly struck metal. “Camry!” he shouted. “Answer me!”
“Luke,” came a muffled sound, making him still again.
“Camry!”
“Lu—”
He dug harder, working his way along the metal sled in each direction, until he felt the tarp. He pulled off his glove to wiggle his fingers under the canvas, and touched her jacket.
“I’ve got you!” he shouted. He had to shove Max out of the way when the dog tried to drive his nose into the narrow opening. “Keep digging, Max. Right here,” he said, patting the snow toward the front of the sled.
While Max dug, Luke carefully worked more snow away from the tarp until he was able to peel it back enough to see inside. But all he could see was the red of Camry’s jacket. He climbed out of the hole, knelt down on the opposite side, grabbed the edge of the tarp, and pulled with all his strength.
It slowly peeled back, revealing Camry’s folded body wedged into the sled so tightly, he was afraid she couldn’t breathe.
“Max, no!” Luke grabbed Max by the collar when the dog started nosing Camry’s hair, dragged the Lab up out of the hole, and pushed him away.
Luke then straddled the hole, bracing his feet on either side of the sled. “Camry, sweetheart,” he whispered, slipping off his glove again and carefully threading his trembling fingers through her hair. He felt along her jaw to locate her neck, then held his finger against her weak pulse. “Easy now,” he said when she stirred with a moan.
“Don’t move. We don’t know what’s broken.”
“Tigger,” she said weakly, her voice muffled because her face was pressed into her knees, facing down.
“To hell with Tigger,” he growled. “I need to know where you’re hurt. Can you feel your body, Camry? Your legs? Your arms?”
“T-take Tig . . .” she whispered. “C-can’t breathe.”
Luke felt along her body, carefully wedging his fingers between her arm and torso, and finally realized that she was wrapped around the dachshund so tightly, there was no room for her lungs to expand. He pressed deeper until he felt Tigger’s sweater, then grasped the wool and slowly pulled. Camry moaned again as the limp body of the dog slowly emerged. As soon as he was able to get both hands around Tigger, Luke applied more pressure while carefully wiggling the dog back and forth, then finally pulled the dachshund free and set her on the snow above the hole.
He immediately looked down at Camry and saw her stir again, her torso expanding on a shuddering breath. “Okay, sweetheart, your turn.” He clasped the shoulder of her jacket, at the same time wrapping his hand around her neck to keep her head still, and leaned close. “If you feel any sharp pain, you let me know, okay? I’m going to pull you out now. Don’t try to help; just relax and let me do all the work.”
He put just enough pressure into his pull to gauge how stuck she was, then stilled, watching for signs of distress. He pulled a bit harder, felt her sliding free, then lifted her just a bit more before he stopped again. He then slid his arm under her head for support and repositioned his hand on her jacket. Using his own body like a backboard, he slowly straightened as she unfolded out of the sled, until he was leaning back against the side of the hole with her in front of him.
“Can you feel your legs and arms?” he whispered into her ear, which was now even with his head.
“Right leg h-hurts.”
Luke was so relieved he kissed her hair. “That’s good. You’d have really scared me if you said you couldn’t feel anything. Okay,” he said, taking a steadying breath to calm his trembling. “I’ll straighten my knees so that I’m standing, then reach under your legs and lift you into my arms. There’s a chance your right leg is broken, but I’ve got to lift you up and lay you on the snow.” He kissed her hair again. “Ready?”
She made a small sound, and her head, which he was still supporting, nodded ever so slightly. He reached down and cupped her legs—gritting his teeth against her gasp of pain—and lifted her to his chest. “Easy, now. The worst is over,” he said softly, brushing his lips against her cold, tear-dampened cheek.
Careful not to fall into the sled, he slowly turned around, raised her up, and gently set her beside the hole. He slid his arms out from under her, making sure her body was completely supported by the snow.
“Tigger,” she whispered, sucking in deep breaths.
“You first,” he hissed, having to shove Max away when the whining dog started licking her face.
“Not breathing,” Camry said, weakly giving Luke a push. “Please . . . help Tig.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the dachshund’s limp body. Dammit! “I think . . . I’m sorry, I think she’s dead,” he said, turning back to carefully unzip Camry’s ski pants leg.
“P-please, Luke,” she sobbed.
He spun around with a muttered curse, stepped across the hole, and leaned down to put his ear against Tigger’s side. He thought he heard a faint heartbeat, and moved his face to her snout, trying to find signs of breathing.
“Help her,” Camry whispered.
Luke slid two fingers under Tigger’s sweater, over her ribs, then used his other hand to lift the dachshund’s nose so he could close his mouth over it. He gently blew, feeling the dog’s chest rise, then blew several more times. Tigger suddenly stirred, giving a weak whimper, and Luke picked up the dog.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered, turning to show Camry. “Thatta girl. Keep breathing.” He set Tigger on the snow in the crook of her arm, then took her hand to stop her from trying to pull the dog onto her chest. “Don’t try to pick her up. Just let her lie beside you. She’s breathing. Just keep her tucked against you.”
He brushed back Camry’s hair and leaned closer. “Anything else hurt besides your right leg? Your ribs? Your back?” he asked, unzipping her jacket. He stopped and blew on his hands to warm his freezing fingers, then slowly pulled her sweater up and worked the hem of her turtleneck out of her pants so he could feel her belly. “Focus on yourself, Camry,” he growled when he glanced up to find her straining to see Tigger. He touched her chin to make her look at him, then forced a smile to soften his demand. “I’m worried about internal bleeding. Do you remember anything jabbing you as you tumbled? Or did your head hit anything?” he asked, studying her pupils, which, thank God, appeared even.
“I-I’m okay. B-but my foot is throbbing.”
He forced his smile wider, brushing his shaking hand over her forehead again. “You picked a hell of a way to get out of your turn to pull the sled.”
Her gaze roamed his face, and she touched his cheek. “You’re bleeding.”
He also touched his cheek, then smiled at her again. “I’ve known you what . . . two weeks? And I’ve been beaten up twice. You should come with a warning label.”
“I’m sorry.”
He kissed her trembling lips. “I’m not,” he whispered. He straightened, then turned toward her legs. “Okay. Time to assess the damage.”
Max suddenly came bounding over, dragging one of the snowshoes. “Good boy, Max!” Luke said, quickly grabbing it when the dog nearly swung the three-foot-long snowshoe into Camry. “You found my boot! Go on,” he said. “Find more stuff, Max.”
Tigger whined and started squirming. Luke caught the dachshund just as she started slipping into the hole he was standing in. “Looks like you’re recovering okay,” he said, setting the dog on her feet and holding her steady. He let her go as soon as he saw her tail wag, then shot Camry a glare. “You tell anyone I gave mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to a dog, and I’m going to post the cell phone picture I took of you in your wench’s costume on the Web.”
Before she could answer him, he moved back to finish unzipping the right leg of her ski pants. “I don’t see any bones sticking out,” he said with false joy—because he sure as hell saw that her foot was
twisted at an unnatural angle.
He pulled out his multitool and opened the blade, then bobbed his eyebrows at her. “I’ve always fantasized about playing doctor on a beautiful woman.” He looked back down at her leg. “I need to slit your inner pants and long johns from the knee down, to see what’s happening in there.” He bobbed his eyebrows again. “Assuming I can see anything, since you haven’t shaved your legs in what . . . days?”
“Just do it,” she growled, stiffening. “And tell me if it’s broken or just sprained.”
Oh, he knew it was broken, all right; he just didn’t know how badly. He pulled her wool pants and long johns away from her leg and slit them open with his knife, exposing angry red skin swelling up from under her wool sock.
“Yup, it’s broken,” he muttered, carefully cutting the sock down to her boot. He stilled when she sucked in a hiss, and looked at her. “I can’t tell if it’s your lower leg or your ankle. I have to take off your boot, Camry. I’ll do it as gently as I can.”
“Leave it on.”
“No. Your foot’s swelling, and it’s only going to get worse.”
She closed her eyes. “Then do it.”
Luke carefully sliced her laces, then set down the knife in order to peel open her boot, wincing when she hissed again. “Easy now,” he crooned, lifting back the tongue of her boot. He slid one hand under her ankle, then grabbed the heel of the boot and slowly pulled.
“No, stop!”
He stilled, turning to see her take several gulping breaths before she gritted her teeth. “Okay. Do it.”
He held his own breath as he started pulling again, working as quickly as he could so he wouldn’t prolong her agony while being careful he didn’t do any more damage. The boot finally slipped free, taking her sock with it, and Luke closed his eyes. “I think your ankle is shattered,” he whispered. He looked over at her. “No blood, though. So I’ll just immobilize it as best I can. Then I’m digging out the sled, and we’ll get you to a hospital lickety-split. Where’s the closest house to here?”
A Highlander Christmas Page 17
