Out of the Cold

Chapter Nineteen

She was leaving tomorrow .

He hadn’t been literally marking an “X” on a calendar for every day that passed since Lucy had told him she was going, but that’s what he saw in his head. A big X crossing off another day in a string of days he was missing with her.

His love for her was matched only by the certainty that he couldn’t give her what she wanted.

He also couldn’t see a future beyond her leaving. That was the scariest part of all. As tired as he was getting of the four walls of his cabin, returning to Sacramento didn’t feel possible anymore.

And sometime between now and tomorrow, he had to say goodbye.

He was feeling too much, and the impulse to drink himself numb was strong. But he couldn’t say goodbye like that. Lucy deserved better.

He had to get out of his head, and there was only one way to do that. He put on his winter layers and boots and headed out.

The hill behind his cabin wasn’t safe with today’s conditions, so he was forced to head down the driveway toward the other trails.

He glanced toward her car as he passed, then stopped cold. It was full of boxes. He hadn’t even seen her bring them out. If he had, he’d have come out to help her, however much it would have pained him.

She must have done it while he was in town this morning, probably to avoid that very thing.

He forced himself to keep moving. Crossing the street, he headed along the path Lucy had taken every day all winter long. Would he have the heart to go down it when she was gone?

Lately everywhere he looked, memories of Lucy followed him.

His breath came faster as he warmed up. The smell of new snow, cedar, and pine sang to him as he moved deeper into the forest—but underneath it all was the knowledge that he’d lost Lucy.

No, that wasn’t right. He hadn’t lost her. He’d left her.

“It’s your fault I’m here in the first place,” he said out loud.

Maybe he was going crazy, or maybe this was what you did when you were in your place of worship and desperate. Except he wasn’t talking to God. He was talking to Ricky.

“I’d still be in Sacramento, having a normal life. Now look at me. I left the woman I love because I’m terrified of losing her. How does that make any sense?”

The Ricky in his head looked solemn. Eighteen was old enough to recognize when you’d made a mess. But that wasn’t good enough.

“What were you thinking? I told you never to go out in conditions like that. There was a whole mountain for you to ski down right outside the hotel door, but you had to go into the backcountry.” He was yelling now, tears warm on his face as he crashed his way through the forest. “Do you know what it was like waiting for them to find you? What it was like calling your mother and telling her you were dead?”

He bent over, panting, though he’d only gone a couple of miles. His chest ached like he’d been carved out and left hollow—like he’d never be whole again.

“You were just a dumb kid, and now that’s all you’ll ever be.”

Silence rang around him. Even the crows had gone quiet.

He moved to straighten up, and the pain in his back was so sharp he couldn’t breathe. His muscles seized, driving him to his knees. He tried to relax, tried to slow his breathing, but as soon as he tried to move, the pain knifed through him.

He eased himself down until he was lying flat on his back and staring at the sky through the trees.

Understanding came slowly, like morning light through the forest canopy. He’d been too swamped with guilt to realize how angry he was at Ricky. Not just angry, but furious at him for getting himself killed when he knew better.

And he’d taken it out on Lucy.

Lucy, who more than anyone in the world would have understood, if he’d only known how to tell her.

Ricky had done a dumb thing. He’d done other dumb things and gotten away with them, like Gabe had. Like many people had. And then his luck had run out.

Now he didn’t see the eighteen-year-old Ricky. He saw the two of them getting ice cream at the water park for his ninth birthday. He saw Ricky in a suit before his first formal dance, and crying over a skinned knee on the playground. He was coaching Ricky through math homework after Teresa had called him, at her wit’s end. They were on their first overnight camping trip, when Ricky asked his advice about inviting a girl to a dance and then kept him up for hours with question after question about girls and sex.

Years of memories, but not as many as there should have been.

They would have to be enough. He needed to treasure each one, and he could only do that if he forgave Ricky and himself. And he needed to. It was time, and it was the only chance he had of being with Lucy.

If she’d still have him.

He stared at the sky, waiting for the muscles in his back to release. When he felt marginally better, he tried to move.

He groaned aloud as pain sizzled up his back and down his legs. He fell back, panting.

He had to talk to her before she left, and he hoped that he wasn’t too late. Come to think of it, he had to live through the night. Luckily, he was on dirt and pine needles rather than snow, and he was dressed warmly with a hat and gloves. But the ground was frozen, and his body was getting cold fast.

***

T he number of things she’d brought with her had somehow multiplied. Books, clothes, and shoes were piled in every room, and somehow she had to get them back into boxes and bags and into her car. Fortunately, she’d made a good start earlier today when Gabriel was away.

She turned on the radio and smiled as one song ended and a Patsy Cline one began. A good match for a heartbroken last night in a lonesome mountain cabin. She sang along as she moved her clothes into suitcases and wondered how she’d get through tomorrow.

When she looked up again, it was fully dark and there were no lights in Gabriel’s cabin. She’d seen him leave for his hike hours ago, and he still wasn’t home. Strange that he’d stay out after dark, but he was an experienced hiker. He knew what he was doing.

An hour and a half later, there were still no lights in his cabin.

Something didn’t feel right. She called his cell phone and land line and got no answer, then stepped out onto the front steps. All was silent but for the lonely creaking of trees in the wind.

Without consciously making a decision, she started walking toward his cabin, creating and discarding reasons for his absence. At the door she stood for several seconds, feeling foolish even as her worry grew. She knocked softly and waited. Hearing nothing, she knocked louder, waited, then turned the knob.

It was pitch black, as she’d expected, and cold, which she had not.

Quickly she checked his bedroom, knowing he wouldn’t be there. A nearly empty thermos of coffee sat on the counter and his laptop waited on the kitchen table. The woodstove held a trace of warmth, but opening the door, she saw the fire had burned down to only a few coals.

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold traveled down her spine. Gabriel would never let the fire die. If he’d known he was going to be gone for so long, he’d have stoked it before he left. She did so now, feeding enough logs to keep the stove going most of the night.

Was there a simple explanation she wasn’t considering, something other than an accident that could account for his absence? His truck sat parked in the driveway. She scanned the camping gear that lined the far wall of his bedroom. He had several bedrolls and tents, but they were all stacked precisely where they always were. The enormous pack he used when backcountry hiking was there, as well as the extra satellite phone he bought after he gave her his.

There was only one explanation—he hadn’t intended to be out this late.

Sweat prickled under her arms at the thought of him somewhere in the woods, hurt and cold. It was almost impossible to imagine, but she couldn’t stay home and hope she was wrong. She had to do something. She should be able to follow his trail, as it hadn’t snowed since last night. If she wasn’t able to find him, she’d call Search and Rescue.

Moving quickly now that she’d made the decision, she dug a first aid kit out of his pack, then went back to her own cabin, where she threw a bottle of water, protein bars, the satellite phone, and hand and foot warmers into her backpack. She pulled on her snow pants, hat, and mittens, fastened her snowshoes, and strapped on a headlamp.

Hilde was watching her every move, body tense with the desperate hope of a late walk.

“Come, Hilde,” she said, clipping her leash to her belt.

Outside the sky was clear, the stars and moon stark above her. She could clearly see where Gabriel’s tracks mingled with hers down the driveway and along the path to the clearing, where they branched away to the left.

The forest deepened here. The evergreens, thick with needles and rimmed with snow, blocked out nearly all the light from the stars and moon, and now only her headlamp lit the way.

Even in daylight, being here could be unnerving. At night, it was terrifying.

She stopped, her breath fast and light from nerves. Her heart pounded like the thud of an axe into cold wood as she stared ahead into darkness that held only more darkness.

She made herself move again, confident that Gabriel had to have come this way. She made it as far as the clearing on that one certainty, and there she stopped.

Each direction was equally possible. This must be how Gabriel felt the day he went looking for her. Only her problem wasn’t snowfall but the fact that she and Hilde had been on each of the trails this week. She couldn’t make out his tracks from theirs, especially with so little light.

She stood there, paralyzed with indecision until she became aware of Hilde pulling at her leash, her nose to the ground.

She sent up a prayer that her dog wasn’t sniffing a squirrel and let her lead the way. Surely if Gabriel was out here, Hilde would find him.

“Gabriel,” she called, her voice thin and high, disappearing on an echo.

Hilde trotted steadily, a darker shadow low to the ground. Occasionally she stopped and nosed around in the snow, or turned and looked back at Lucy, her eyes gleaming before she set off again.

What if Hilde wasn’t leading her to Gabriel? What if they were on some wild goose chase?

Her gaze fixed on the dog, she tripped over a root and landed hard on her hands and knees. Then Hilde was at her side, her nose cold on Lucy’s neck.

“I’m fine, girl,” she whispered, but it took effort not to give in to her tears.

This wasn’t her. She didn’t rescue people. And what if no one needed rescuing? What if Gabriel had gone for a long walk and already circled back to his cabin? She was probably putting herself through this for no reason, misreading the whole situation and endangering both herself and Hilde.

She got to her feet, took a deep breath, and headed deeper into the darkness.

She was praying out loud now, one word over and over. “Please, please, please,” she whispered.

Her headlamp caught something off to the right. She swung back again, wondering if she’d imagined it.

But no. The golden eyes of a mountain lion gleamed back at her from behind a rotted log. Its head was up and its ears forward, as if curious.

She froze like prey in the animal’s sights, her entire body breaking out in a cold sweat. Dread crawled up her legs, chilling her blood.

“Don’t run away, don’t turn your back,” she whispered to herself. “Make yourself as big as possible. Raise your arms.” She said it all again, only louder, raising her arms as she did so. It didn’t look like it was going to attack, but it didn’t back away either.

Hilde came to her side, hackles raised, her low growl more of a vibration than a sound.

The big cat’s ears went back.

“Stay, Hilde,” she said, her command low as she reeled the leash in tight.

Hilde quivered at her side but kept silent.

Slowly, Lucy lowered her hand and dug for one of the heavy rocks she always kept in her pocket. She was barely breathing as she silently prayed for the animal to turn around.

But it didn’t turn. Instead, its hindquarters began to wriggle. Hilde growled, and the cat’s eyes shifted to her.

Lucy threw the rock hard and watched in terror as it glanced off the big cat’s side.

It was like breaking a spell. The cat rose up out of its crouch, turned, and loped silently away, disappearing into the pines.

Lucy stared into the forest for several minutes, afraid to turn her back. What if it was still out there, waiting to see what she did? She’d read that sometimes they came back for a second try.

But she couldn’t stay there forever. After another long look, she led Hilde down the trail, walking slowly. If it was watching, running might trigger its instinct to chase.

Her entire body shook, and she looked back over her shoulder time and again. She was terrified to go forward and equally scared to go back. And Gabriel might be out there, hurt and vulnerable to the cold and predators. Either one could kill him.

Then Hilde was straining at the end of the leash and barking madly.

A moment later, she heard a man’s voice.

“What the—Hilde?”

***

O ne minute he was staring up at the branches, contemplating whether he’d make it back by morning, and the next a sloppy wet tongue was licking his face.

Lucy dropped to her knees by his side. “Gabriel! Are you hurt?”

He looked at her in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you, obviously,” she said. But the tears streaming down her face belied her sass. “Are you hurt?”

He lifted a gloved hand to wipe away her tears. “I’m okay, but I pulled something in my back.”

She took off a mitten and lay her hand against his cheek. “You’re freezing. We have to get you out of here. Can you move?”

“Not the last time I tried, but maybe with you helping, I can do it.”

“Should I try to roll you over?”

He nodded, his jaw tensing, readying himself for the pain. “It’s worth a try.”

She put one hand under his shoulder, the other under his hip. “Okay, on the count of three, I’ll push you away from me.”

He took a deep breath and let it out, then another. “Ready.”

“One, two, three.”

She pushed, and he rolled, and with a hiss of pain, he was on his side.

“Ready to try to stand?” she asked.

He nodded, unable to speak. Once again, she got her hands underneath him, again she counted off. He made it to his knees this time, but the pain was so intense, for a few seconds he couldn’t breathe.

Lucy put her mittened hand on his back and peered into his face, her expression anxious. “Are you okay?”

“Need a minute,” he gasped. Finally, the pain receded enough that he could speak. “You’re stronger than you look.”

“You’re as heavy as you look.”

“I don’t suppose you have a handful of muscle relaxers on you?”

“That depends on what’s in the first aid kit,” she said, pulling her backpack toward her.

He watched in amazement as she pulled out his first aid kit, along with the satellite phone, a water bottle, and some protein bars. “You’re incredible.”

“I didn’t know what I was going to find,” she said, her voice wobbling.

Ignoring his screaming back, he shifted his weight until he was sitting on his heels and could see her face. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry I scared you.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. But she was trembling all over, as if her terrifying search was catching up to her. He pulled her hard against him and wrapped his arms around her until her body softened against him. Her arms came up to hold him, and she tucked her head into his chest.

Soon she let out a long, shaky sigh and pulled back. “I’m okay now, really. We should get home.”

Reluctantly he released her, but except for a sniffle, she was composed as she opened the first aid kit.

“There’s Tylenol and Advil. Would either of those help?”

“Both would be a start.” He took one packet of each, tore them open, and emptied them into his mouth.

She handed him the water bottle and a protein bar and waited while he ate and drank.

He passed the water bottle back to her, and she took a drink.

“Maybe if we wait a bit for the painkillers to kick in, I’ll be able to walk.”

“Okay. But we need to keep an eye out for the mountain lion.”

“I didn’t see any signs of one. You think there’s one nearby?”

She grimaced. “I saw one a little ways back. I think it was getting ready to attack us, but I threw a rock and she ran away.”

“Jesus.” She could have been killed while he lay here, helpless and unknowing. His stomach heaved and his skin went clammy, and for a second he thought he might be sick.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “Nothing happened.”

“You should have gone back.”

“I couldn’t leave you out here.”

How had he turned his back on this woman? His love for her would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t already been there.

“Do you know what I was thinking about as I lay here?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I replayed every minute I’ve spent with you, starting with the day you stood with your hands on your hips while Hilde growled at me like I was going to be dinner. Then there was the agony every time I looked at the deck. I used to imagine you soaking in the tub, and it drove me crazy.”

She gave a watery laugh. “Seriously?”

“I remembered sitting with you after showing you how to build a fire. How your eyes forgave me even after I was such an ass.”

She looked up at him, and once again he was slaughtered by them.

“Gabriel...”

He cupped her face in his gloved hands and kissed the corners of her eyes. “I thought about how every day you tried something new. How you went farther from the house, first on the road and then in the woods.” He kissed his way down her cheek, tasting her salty tears. “First on the trail and then blazing your own trail. You and Hilde, every day.”

He kissed behind her ear, making her shiver. “I’d watch you from my window and think how I’d never seen anything lovelier. Every time I entered your cabin, you cracked my heart open a little more.”

He’d reached her mouth, so wide and generous, more often serious than not, but still so ready to smile. “I thought about the first time we had sex, when my craving for you started, and then when we made love, when I knew how lucky I was.”

He kissed her sweet mouth, full of the same wonder he always felt when he held her. She opened to him on a shuddering sigh, and he tasted her sweetness and generosity, her bravery and strength.

He pulled back so he could look into her eyes. “I thought I had to save you, when all along you’ve been saving me.”

She smiled up at him, everything she felt there in her gaze. “I’ve been loving you.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, Lucy. I’m not completely whole yet, but I’ll get there, and I want to be with you, wherever that is.”

Her fingers threaded into his hair as she pulled him to her for a kiss that took him so far under he forgot his pain, forgot everything but her.

Then Hilde barked, and they drew apart.

“This is crazy,” she said. “We have to get out of here.”

“Right. Let’s evade death, then make out.” He grabbed hold of a low branch, grunting in pain. Lucy supported him on the other side, and together they slowly rose to their feet.

He was panting and sweating by the time he was fully upright.

“There’s a hot tub waiting for you at the end of the road,” she said, handing him one of her poles.

They were two miles, more or less, from home. On a normal day, he could have run it without breaking a sweat, but now it took everything he had not to howl at the torture of the first step. Being mauled by a mountain lion was probably less agonizing than walking in his current state. But he kept going, panting and grunting, dragging his body along, the image of them together in her cabin galvanizing him.

He’d never been in so much physical torment, and it was still the best day of his life.

Eventually the pain killers kicked in, dulling the pain enough that his stride lengthened somewhat. Another half mile more and the pain had eased enough to speak.

“What made you go looking for me?” he asked.

“I saw you leave, but I didn’t see you come back. When I went to your cabin, the fire was nearly out and all your overnight camping gear was still there. But I still worried I was getting it all wrong.”

He pictured her in his cabin, putting together the clues, realizing that he could be out here, but not knowing for sure. Despite her doubt and her terror, she’d gathered supplies and headed into the woods at night.

For him.

“It seemed a lot scarier on the way out than it does now,” she continued. “I didn’t know if I’d find you, or if you were already back at the cabin. And then I ran into the mountain lion. But Hilde led me right to you. She was amazing.”

He smiled down at the dog. “She certainly was.”

At last they saw the lights of her cabin through the trees. It seemed like ages since he’d seen it, though in reality he’d only been gone six hours.

His world had turned upside down in that time—or rather, right side up. They walked out of the woods together, toward home.

***

L ucy stepped out onto the deck and made her way to the other side of the partition. Gabriel was already in the tub, because of course he had to go and lift the lid off even though he could barely move an hour ago.

She took off her robe and laid it over a chair. “No fair, you get to see all of me, and I barely see any of you.”

“You’ll be seeing as much of me as you like,” he said, his eyes warm.

She lowered herself in across from him, stretching luxuriantly. “God, that’s wonderful.”

“I know. I’m beginning to feel human again.”

It was hard to believe that not long ago she was scared for both her life and Gabriel’s, and now here they were. The water embraced her, made her aware of every inch of skin. The sky overhead pulsed with starlight, her body weightless in its reflection.

His voice floated over to her. “I realized when I was out there how angry I was at Ricky.” His hand cupped her foot and rested it on his knee, his strong fingers massaging her instep. “I never let myself feel that, and I directed it at you the day you came back late.”

“I’ll never do that again without calling.” She hesitated, reluctant to ruin the tranquility, but she couldn’t keep silent. “But I love my treks into the backcountry. I love that I can do it without being scared, or letting my fear overtake me, even if I am a little scared. I’m finally free of all the things that held me back.”

“You were right to hold your ground.” He set her foot gently back into the water and picked up the other one. “You’re strong and resourceful, and I loved that about you even before you faced down a mountain lion.”

She smiled. “I really did that.”

“You did. My very own lioness.” He took her hand then, reeling her in until she collided gently with him, her breasts pressed against his hard chest. He smoothed her hair back from her face.

“What happens next?” she asked.

“That’s up to you. I’ll move to San Francisco if you want.”

“But isn’t your business in Sacramento?”

“I’d make it work.”

“I only got an apartment in San Francisco because it was easier than starting over somewhere new. I’d love to move to Sacramento with you.”

“But you must have paid rent and a deposit already.”

“Gabriel, do you think I care about that right now?”

His eyes crinkled with his smile. “So we’re clear, I’m desperately in love with you, which means I want to live with you. But I understand if you want your own place.”

She was having a hard time thinking straight. She smoothed her hands along his muscled chest and arms. She’d gone far too long without touching him.

“I want to live with you, too. Desperately.” She hesitated. “But I think, at least for a little while, I’d like to have my own apartment. I’ve only lived alone for a few months out of my whole life. Half of that was here, and this isn’t even my own place.”

She held her breath, remembering his reaction the last time they talked about moving.

“I understand,” he said, smiling.

“You do, really?”

“I do. I think it’s perfect.” His hands skimmed up her thighs and curved around her hips. “I can’t wait to cook you dinner and ravish you there.”

“It’s going to be completely mine, and I’m going to take care of everything. I’ll fix it up, and sign up for rental insurance, and figure out what internet to get.”

“I’m losing you to rental insurance?”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Pretty much.”

“I guess I can learn to live with that. And whenever you’re ready, we’ll find a place together.”

“I would love that. I almost can’t wait.”

“But you should,” he said, kissing her tenderly on the mouth. “You don’t want to miss anything.”

“Speaking of which,” she said, kissing the smooth part of his neck she loved so much, “what do you think about spending a few more weeks here? It would be like before, but even better.”

“You read my mind,” he said, his mouth meeting hers in a kiss that drove away all thought.