Chapter 5 Autumn #2
“Hey.” His voice softened. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
I blinked at him.
“There’s such a thing as pushing yourself too hard,” he said, his tone sincere. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not a Superwoman.”
Oh.
I nearly melted right there. If I had any upper-body strength left, I would’ve flung myself at him.
“I wanted water,” I muttered. “Didn’t quite make it to the river.”
“River?” His brow creased.
“Supposed to be somewhere down there.”
“The river’s on the other side,” he said.
“What? No, the sign pointed this way!”
He gave me a look. “I just came from the river. Trust me, it’s not down there.”
Damn it. Had I hallucinated that sign? Or the sound of running water…was that just the wind messing with me?
I clamped my mouth shut.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” he repeated, firmer this time.
My confidence nudged its way back in.
“My phone’s dead,” I admitted. “Couldn’t even double-check where I was going.”
“Ah. Brutal.” He paused. “Where were you headed?”
“Buffaloberry Hill.”
“Well, look at that. You’re still on the right trail.” His expression went crooked with mischief. He just couldn’t help himself.
I chuckled. “Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”
He gave a kind laugh. “You’ve done better than most would’ve. You were just unlucky today. I’ll get you there.” Then he gently prodded my shoulder, his fingers pressing along the joint. “Here, yes?”
“Yeah.”
Then—
Agony.
A vicious jolt shot through me. My body wrenched, and a cry tore from my throat, so forceful that it left me lightheaded.
But then—
Arms wrapped around me.
Strong but soothing. Holding me close.
My cheek was smashed against his chest before I even realized what had happened.
“You’re mean!” I let out another cry, muffled by his T-shirt.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” His voice was low and warm against my hair. “But, hey, that did the trick, right?”
I fisted his tee, burying my face deeper. “You’re mean,” I repeated.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’ll make it up to you. But at least you didn’t have time to overthink it.”
I wanted to tell him he was wrong. But he wasn’t.
The pain in my shoulder had dulled, and I could move it a little.
And honestly? The only thing I was overthinking now was how fresh he smelled.
Sure, there was sweat. But under that, there was cedarwood and something clean. While I, on the other hand, definitely smelled worse than Lulu.
And yet, I wasn’t moving.
I let my face stay right there, flush against his chest, soaking in the warmth of him.
“You’re tough,” he said.
Tough. The word landed differently, better, coming from him.
I swiped at my cheek in what I hoped was a subtle way to erase the stubborn tears from wincing too hard.
“You’re a doctor or something?” I asked.
“Nah,” he said. “I had first aid training. And some basic paramedic training. Sometimes I needed to know a bit of human anatomy.”
“Lucky me,” I sighed as scenarios started playing in my head.
Nope. My brain absolutely did not jump to other uses for a man who knew his way around anatomy.
Nope. Not at all.
I gulped, trying not to picture anything involving bedsheets. “What do you do?”
He glanced up at me. “Well, I was a lawyer,” he said.
Backstroke for a second. When exactly did Harvard, or wherever he’d gotten his degree, start admitting beefcakes?
I masked the whiplash with a grin. “I should’ve known! You distracted me, then ambushed my shoulder. Classic lawyer move.”
“Hey, don’t judge,” he said. “I was a damn good one, you know. Morally gray sometimes, sure, but all in the interest of my clients.”
“Huh. And you said was?”
He shrugged, casually. “I retired. As of, well, yesterday.”
I squinted at him. “You retired at your age?”
“Yep. Can you believe it? I’m a man of leisure now,” he quipped. Then he cast his eyes on my leg again. “Anywhere else hurts?”
By now, that first injury—my twisted ankle from way back—barely registered. It was just a bruise compared to everything else.
“No.”
Thunder rolled again.
“We need to move,” he said, scanning the slope and the downed trees littered like matchsticks.
I nodded, though the gesture felt hollow. My head was still fogged, my limbs reluctant passengers.
“I’ll help you climb,” he said, unfastening the shirt he’d used as a harness before reaching for the first aid kit to pack it away.
Climb? With one leg screaming, one shoulder half-dead, and a storm about to dump itself on our heads?
“I…Dom, I don’t think—”
“You can,” he cut in gently. “I know you’re hurting, and I know how much this sucks. But it’s our only shot before this storm hits.”
I looked up at the ridge, my heart sinking. What had looked manageable from above now loomed like a vertical death wish. Maybe I’d been delusional. Or maybe I’d just been that damn thirsty.
Dom stepped in close, his arm steady at my side. “I will not let you fall.”
I gave him a nod. Tiny. Shaky. But it was all I had.
The rain came first, heavy droplets hitting the dirt, turning it slick.
Then came another rumble of thunder.
“So how does this work?” I said, fiddling with the harness as my vision blurred.
Before he could explain, a wave of dizziness knocked me sideways.
“Autumn? Autumn, are you with me?”
Soon, nausea slammed into me.
Oh God. No.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to fight it back, but it was too late.
I twisted my head at the last second and heaved.
My body had officially turned on me. My legs turned to rubber, my skin burned, and my head floated.
But Dom didn’t recoil or make a disgusted sound.
Instead, he pulled me closer.
One arm clamped tighter around me, keeping me upright. His other hand swept across my forehead, brushing damp hair back as he murmured, “You’re burning up.”
“I’m sorry, I—” I started, but my voice failed me.
Dom didn’t let me finish. “Don’t say sorry. We’ve got this.”
I wanted to believe it, but my body was telling me otherwise.