"Hey, none of that." His thumb gently wipes away a tear. "Save your strength for healing."
"I never meant to—" I choke on the words, overwhelmed by the realization of what could have happened, what I put him through. "I just needed to feel something real. Something that mattered."
"I understand that better than you think." His voice has lost its edge completely now. In the firelight, he looks younger, the hard lines of his face softened.
"Will you stay?" I whisper, hating how vulnerable I sound but too exhausted to care. "Just until I fall asleep?"
He doesn't answer, but he doesn't leave either. Instead, he sits beside the couch, continuing to apply a cool face cloth to my forehead. At some point, his hand finds mine, strong fingers entwining with my smaller ones.
I drift in and out of consciousness throughout the night, but each time I surface, he's there—sometimes checking my temperature, sometimes just sitting quietly, sometimesspeaking softly to Aspen. His presence becomes a constant, a tether to consciousness when the fever threatens to drag me under.
By morning, the fever has broken. I wake feeling wrung out but clearer. The first light of dawn filters through the windows, painting the cabin in soft gold.
Rhett is asleep in the chair beside me, his head tilted at an angle that will surely give him a stiff neck. Aspen is curled at his feet, but her eyes open immediately when I stir.
I watch him for a moment, taking advantage of his unguarded state to really see him. The permanent furrow between his brows has smoothed out in sleep. He looks peaceful, almost vulnerable.
As if sensing my gaze, his eyes open, instantly alert. Our gazes lock, and for a moment, neither of us speaks.
"Your fever broke," he says finally, leaning forward to press his palm against my forehead.
The simple touch sends an unexpected current through me. His hand lingers a fraction too long, and I know he feels it too—this bizarre connection between rescuer and rescued, between two people who should have nothing in common but somehow understand each other in ways that defy logic.
"Thank you," I say quietly. "For staying."
His eyes hold mine, winter-sky blue meeting whatever shade of disaster mine must be right now. Something unspoken passes between us, a recognition that boundaries have shifted during the long night.
"Always," he replies simply, and the word contains multitudes.
We stay like that, frozen in this charged moment as the morning light strengthens around us, neither willing to be the first to break whatever spell the night has cast.
five
Rhett
Oneday.Justoneday trapped in this cabin with her, and I'm losing my mind.
I sit on the cabin's small covered porch, the bitter cold a welcome distraction from the thoughts that have been circling my brain like hungry wolves. Aspen whines and nudges my hand with her nose. At least someone understands.
"I know, girl. I'm a mess." I scratch behind her ears, watching my breath form clouds in the frigid air.
The storm finally broke last night, leaving behind three feet of fresh snow and a world silent except for the occasional creak of laden branches. In the distance, Darkmore Peak rises against a flawless blue sky, deceptively peaceful after trying to kill us both.
My radio crackles to life. "Base to Rhett, come in."
I grab it from my pocket. "Rhett here."
"Jake here with your morning update. Road crews made good progress overnight. They should reach your access road by tomorrow afternoon."
Relief and something that feels unnervingly like disappointment war within me. "Copy that. How are things in town?"
"Digging out. The resort's closed until tomorrow for avalanche mitigation. Carlson has been calling every hour for updates on his wayward instructor."
"Tell him she'll live," I say, glancing back at the cabin where Jade sleeps. "Against my better judgment."
Jake chuckles. "That bad, huh? The infamous Jade Wilson finally met her match in you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
