Chapter 9
Evie was pretty sure that kiss might be enough to keep her warm through a week of blizzard conditions without proper shelter.
Wyatt hadn’t lost his touch or his ability to send her system into overdrive.
Desire-infused fantasies drifted through her mind, messing with her concentration, each one better than the last.
But the pulsing, rekindled desire had to wait.
She needed to focus if they were going to make the Greenbriar outpost safely.
Relatively new, she doubted Wyatt even knew about it.
Like the Cotton family, the Greenbriars had been around for generations, leading hikes and capitalizing on the history and natural benefits of the Black Hills.
Snow, without the constant driving wind, made the hike feel almost idyllic. Two old friends—old lovers—taking time to enjoy a quiet walk through a gorgeous snow-covered landscape. There were miracles and worlds caught between every tree and wind-driven drift.
In some places the accumulation was already above her knees. If it kept coming down and the wind kicked up again who knew how high the drifts could be. They hadn’t done anything like this since they were kids.
“You know they might not survive,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence. Wyatt had taken a few minutes to backtrack to the place he’d last seen Cordell. From what he could tell, the other two men had continued on toward the shelter of the museum. “Too easy to get lost.”
“I’m aware.”
“What will the FBI do about that?”
“To me?”
She nodded. Wyatt shouldn’t be penalized for anything that had gone wrong since the robbery. These conditions rendered any plan useless and, unless she was mistaken, the weather would get worse again before the storm moved on.
“If they die and the diamonds and bodies are recovered, the FBI might hold up their end of the deal,” he said.
His tone didn’t sound overwhelmingly certain. “And if they escape?”
“Well, that could be a more serious problem for me,” he admitted. “There is a paper trail to backup that I was sent here to work undercover. That should prevent any legal issues. I don’t have a prior criminal record or the diamonds, so they can’t keep me on the hook.”
Naturally, he’d left a trail, but she wasn’t sure if it would be enough. “I do.”
“You do what?”
She’d planned to wait until they’d found real shelter, until she was sure she could trust him to tell him everything. But if that conversation and kiss had confirmed anything about her feelings for Wyatt, a part of her would always trust him and see the best in him.
“I have the diamonds,” she whispered.
He stopped moving, as if the weather had frozen him solid. “What?” He rushed forward. “How? I saw you hand the Mae West over to Cordell.”
“The accident must’ve rattled Cordell more than he realized.” She held up her gloved hands and wiggled her fingers. “Blame the seasons of dealing poker. I have the Mae West in my pocket, Cordell has Karl’s key fob. I swapped it while Baker was arguing about the coat.”
“Wow.”
Wyatt’s obvious pleasure was almost as effective as his kiss at warming her. “I also found a bunch of loose stones Karl had in his pocket before I came to save you.”
“Save me?” His eyes sparkled and somewhere behind the scarf, she knew he grinned. “Because I’m not a criminal.”
“Save you or possibly arrest you.” She shrugged and kept going.
Stopping only made it harder to start up again, a sure sign she was losing the current battle against the elements.
“Or wring your neck,” she added. “Somewhere in all of that mess I decided if anyone was going to hurt you it should be me.”
Her thighs were quivering and she wobbled through the next few paces. He hustled up next to her, as if he sensed her distress. “I’m fine,” she assured him.
“How much further?” he asked.
She knew he wanted to lead, to carve a path through the snow to make the hike easier for her. She surveyed their surroundings, knowing everything was taking longer because of the storm. “Not far. The sign…”
Her voice trailed off as she turned a slow circle, looking for the marker. The wording would be blotted out, but the shape of the sign, posted high on a tree trunk, should be nearby.
She started to shake and swore at herself as she recognized the signs of dehydration and looming hypothermia. She’d spent too much energy rushing after Wyatt. Sheltering for a time had helped, but without any food or water, the short break hadn’t been as effective as she’d hoped.
“Evie?”
The worry in his voice was clear, even if he sounded like he called her name from across a canyon. Snowflakes dropped gently onto her face, tangled in her eyelashes. Had she fallen?
She blinked, or tried to, determined to keep her heavy eyelids open. Then she saw it, the sign jutting out from a tree just over Wyatt’s shoulder. She hoisted her hand up, pointing toward the sign. “There.” As her vision went from gray to black, she prayed that the word made it past her lips.
Wyatt refused to panic as he crouched down and maneuvered Evie’s limp body over his shoulder.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed to his feet.
Steady on his feet, he marched on. So much for Army assessments and standards, he thought.
Moving as quickly as the snow allowed, he carried Evie toward the Greenbriar Goldrush.
The square building reminded him of the old ghost town Cordell had been aiming for.
Fashioned after a classic western general store, there was a wide, raised porch and big display windows up front.
He eased Evie down to the snow-dusted porch floor, supporting her between the wall and his good leg. Despite the old-west facade, the door was modern enough with an electronic lock and keypad panel. He tested the handle anyway and shoved the door with his shoulder, but it held.
“Evie.” He patted her ghostly-pale face. Her lips were so blue his heart stuttered. When she’d dropped into the snow…it had happened so fast, but he couldn’t think about that now. She was breathing and her pulse was steady. He had to get her inside and warm her up.
“Evie, honey. Do you know the code?” He gave her shoulder a gentle shake.
He’d break a window as a last resort. Although he didn’t want to create trouble for the business owners, he really didn’t want to compromise the shelter if he didn’t have to.
“Wyatt?” She slurred his name and tried to rub at her eyes.
He caught her hands, chafed them with his own. “We’re at the Goldrush place. What’s the security code?”
“Umm.” She squinted at him. “Try 48482,” she said through chattering teeth.
The code worked and the lock opened. He dragged her inside and kicked the door closed. Setting the lock once more, he turned his attention to the woman at his feet.
“I might be a poker-dealing popsicle,” she muttered.
“Maybe. But you’re definitely the sweetest one,” he replied.
He tried to knock off the snow caked to her pants and quickly gave up.
Scooping her into his arms again, he carried her away from any possible drafts near the front door and windows.
One side window was already blocked by a snow drift, but enough light filtered through the window at the opposite end of the narrow building for him to find his way.
He tucked her behind the sales counter. “Wait here.”
“You think I’m a flight risk?”
Her humor was a good sign, he thought, hurrying away in search of the thermostat.
Finding the system, he turned on the heat, praying everything with the system was in working order.
The fan kicked on, which was a good sign.
Although the shop had been closed up for the winter, there were cases of water stocked in a storage room and plenty of merchandise that could be helpful.
He dragged a camp chair and a stack of polar fleece blankets embroidered with the Greenbriar logo behind the counter.
He hauled over a case of water too and then started stripping away her frigid, wet clothing.
“Wyatt, relax. I’ll be okay. I just need some water and a few minutes to rest.”
“That’s what you said before you went down like a tree.”
“Did I make a sound?”
He shook his head at another attempt at humor. “I was around to hear it, so yeah.”
“Good.” She tried to help him peel away the layers, but her movements were more clumsy than helpful.
He gently swatted her hands aside. “Let me take care of you, Evie.” Kidnapping her hadn’t looked like a caring gesture at the time, but it had been the only way to prevent something worse. He wouldn’t let the storm steal her away from him now. “Just this once at least.”
She subsided, but he suspected they were both grateful he stopped undressing her when he reached the layers of her shirt and underwear.
Her legs were chapped and rosy from the cold and soaked fabrics.
He covered her in several blankets and then massaged her lightly all over, trying to work some feeling back into her muscles.
Gradually the color came back into her lips and he checked her fingertips and toes to make sure she wasn’t fighting frostbite.
“The boots were too big, but they did the trick,” she said wiggling her toes. “Make sure you take care of yourself too.”
He handed her a bottle of water, opening the cap for her and then taking a bottle for himself.
They both drank them straight down and he repeated the process for each of them.
“I had better gear to start with,” he reminded her.
Another strike against him for dragging her out here.
Still, near frostbite had to beat a bullet on the grand scale.
“Stop beating yourself up, Wyatt.”
He aimed a scowl at the fireplace. “Does that thing work?”
“Yes.” She caught his hand and laced her fingers through his. “You did what you had to do in the casino, Wyatt. I know that.”
Her hands were less like blocks of ice and more like the refrigerated case at the grocery. He studied her short fingernails, unable to meet her gaze.