AllFreeNovel
Share Us
All he needed.
There were no lights on inside it, and the fireplace was empty and cold, but wood was stacked on the porch.
Balancing Lila in one arm, he found the door unlocked and opened it, setting Lila on the floor just inside then kicking it closed behind them.
He stripped her out of her soaked clothes, then removed his own before scooping her up again and carrying her to the bed. After he’d tucked her in, he went to the fireplace and started a fire, laying their wet clothes out in front of it to help them dry.
Then Surf somehow made it back to the bed. Sliding in beside Lila, he pulled her against him, covered them both with the covers, and then the world disappeared around him.
* * * * *
November 20th
12:02 P.M.
Warm.
Lila felt blessedly warm.
Kind of floaty and not altogether there, but she remembered what had happened.
Losing her footing, the cold water stealing her ability to function, her head beneath the water, trying to get to the surface, unable to make it, fear, panic, drowning …
With a gasp she snapped fully awake, bolting upright in the bed.
Bed?
After going under the water that last time, her exhausted limbs unable to propel her back to the surface, everything was a blur.
Vague memories of Christian’s cold body cradling her were all she had. Now she woke up to find they were no longer out in the forest, instead, they were in some tiny one-room cabin. There was no one else here so she assumed Christian had found this place and carried her here so she wouldn’t freeze to death.
He was beside her, asleep in the bed, and the fact that he hadn’t stirred when she woke up and moved worried her. Lila knew from experience that Christian was a light sleeper. Usually, the tiniest of movements or sounds had him snapping awake.
But not this time.
When she reached out and rested her palm against his cheek, his skin was warm enough so she knew he wasn’t hypothermic, nor was it too hot indicating his bullet wound was infected. It was likely exhaustion that had him passed out.
Her own exhaustion tugged at her mind. Urging her to lie down, curl up in Christian’s arms again and go back to sleep, but he’d taken care of her, saved her life by getting her out of the water and someplace warm. Now she needed to take care of him.
Before stripping them out of their clothes and getting them into bed, Christian had started a fire in the fireplace, but it was mostly out now. Lila had never tended to a fire in her life, but surely it couldn’t be all that hard. The house she’d grown up in had had several open fireplaces, and she’d loved curling up in front of the one in her bedroom, but she’d never started it or tended to it. They’d had staff to do things like that for them.
Servants her mother had always called them, but that term seemed offensive so in her mind Lila had thought of them as the staff.
There had been an older man, probably similar in age to Ross Duffy, who had been with her family for as long as she could remember. He’d always started a fire in her fireplace for her any time she’d asked, and she’d watched him do it plenty of times while he’d asked her questions about a book she was reading, or a drawing she was working on, or how her cello lessons were going. She’d appreciated him taking the time to ask about things that interested her rather than the career her family forced on her.
Climbing slowly out of bed, her head swam for a second before clearing enough that she could move. Pure agony shot through her ankle at that first step, and she shoved a fist into her mouth so she didn’t cry out and wake Christian. He needed his rest.
If her ankle hadn’t been broken in her original fall or from overusing it, falling into the river could very well have snapped the bones. It was swollen to at least twice its usual size and a horrible mix of black and blue.
Hobbling toward the fire, Lila grabbed the fire poker, and prodded at the logs and sticks still in there before adding another couple along with some kindling. At first, she thought she’d smothered what little flame remained but then the kindling caught, and a few seconds later the new logs she’d added were burning brightly.
For a moment, she stood there and watched the flames dancing. How nice would it be if instead of injured, exhausted, and running for their lives they were in a little cabin on a romantic getaway? She’d never been camping, but it seemed like fun. She could see her and Christian sitting around a fire maybe doing a little fooling around after they’d tucked the kids into their sleeping bags.
As she turned to face the bed, Lila pressed her hand to her stomach. Was her baby okay? How much more trauma could her body sustain before it self-terminated her pregnancy? There was no blood between her legs, so she had to believe that, for now at least, her little one was hanging in there.
Tough like its daddy.
Tough like its mommy, too. Maybe?
