9. Lana
Lana
The rain still came down in buckets as we left camp.
The tree canopy helped, but the forest floor was now a mass of wet leaves and moss, making the ground slippery and treacherous.
I followed in Toren’s footsteps as much as my shorter stride would allow, hoping I wouldn’t slip and slam my face into a rock.
Breaking through the trees, the shift from tree cover to no cover was abrupt. Rain pelted my head and shoulders. Thank goodness for rain gear.
Down at the riverbank, the water wasn’t flowing any faster than before, but I knew that wouldn’t last. Not if this rain kept up.
Amazingly, the boot prints in the sand weren’t washed away yet. They were full of water and only partially visible, but they were still there. With his eyes to the ground, Toren followed them, and I followed him.
The sandy section went on for several hundred yards before a pile of boulders from a previous landslide jutted out into the river.
I eyed the rocks cautiously. Their shiny surfaces, coated with patches of green, told me they were covered in wet moss.
There were some branches and roots sticking out of the pile, though, from the trees the landslide brought down with it, so at least there might be something to grab onto if I slipped.
Stretching one long leg onto a boulder the height of a desk, Toren hopped into the mess.
My mouth flattened. I couldn’t climb up that.
Scanning the expanse of rock in front of me, I found a lower point and stepped onto the pile, bent double as I scaled it, so my hands had contact with something. Several times, my boots slipped and I was happy I decided to take this slow.
Once I reached the top and glanced up, Toren was halfway across the pile and fifty feet to my right.
I looked ahead, trying to decide if I should just keep going straight or make my way diagonal and follow him. There seemed to be more handholds on my path, so I decided to stay the course. Head down, I stepped forward, making sure my foot had enough purchase before I moved the other one.
“No!”
At Toren’s shout, I looked up in time to see his arms flail as he lost traction and tumbled to the side. His large body tumbled sideways, and he crashed out of sight.
“Oh, shit.” Heart thundering in my chest, I scrambled across the rocks. “Toren!”
I heard him groan, but nothing else.
“Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God.” Moving as fast as I dared, I picked and crawled my way over the rocks, trying to stay low, so I didn’t end up just like him. Finally, I crested the rock he fell from.
“Toren! Are you okay?” He lay between two large boulders on his left side. “Don’t move. I’m coming down.”
He groaned again and tried to push himself up but quickly dropped down again. “Fuck. Oh, this isn’t good,” he said, his voice tight and his face pinched.
Sliding down the rock face, I reached him, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. “Where? Where are you hurt?”
“Ankle,” he ground out. “Left side. And my left side ribs. I think those might be broken. Not sure about the ankle. It hurts like a motherfucker, but not like my chest.”
Well, hell. “Okay. I can’t do much about your ribs, but let me look at your ankle.”
“Have at it.”
Carefully, I shifted, scooting between him and the rocks to reach his left foot.
Gently, I eased his pant leg up, trying my best not to cause him pain.
His hiking boot covered the joint and the lower part of his calf.
With the rain, I didn’t want to take it off and soak his sock, so I prodded the area above the boot and over the leather near his ankle.
He hissed when I touched the inside of the joint. “There.”
I moved up slightly, toward the ends of his lower leg bones. “How about here?”
“It’s not as bad.”
“Can you move it?”
He tried, and even from here I could see the flash of pain that crossed his face. “Yeah, but it’s not fun.”
“I can’t tell if it’s crunchy or swollen with your boot on.
We need to get you back to camp and out of the rain, so we can assess it better.
” But how, was the question. Once I got him out of this hollow and off the rocks, we could hike inland where the terrain was a little more even.
It was just getting him up with injured ribs and a buggered-up ankle that would be the problem.
Chewing on the corner of my bottom lip, I assessed our surroundings. He’d fallen between two larger rocks, but there was a natural, gentle slope out of them. If I could get him on his feet, we could use the boulders to steady us, and he could hobble out with my help.
I looked at him, still lying on his side. “Do you think we can sit you up?”
“Yeah. We don’t really have a choice.”
“No, we don’t. Unhook your backpack and try to get on your back.” He was turned about a quarter of the way to his left, resting partially on the bag, with his left leg and hip under him. We needed to get him on his butt, so he could get his right foot under himself to stand.
He unfastened the waist buckle, then I helped him slide his right arm through the strap.
The bag had saved him from hitting his head in the fall, thank goodness, but he’d unfortunately hit a small piece of rock that jutted out when he landed, which is what caused his rib injury.
Though I supposed that was a blessing too.
If he’d fallen deeper, I wasn’t sure I would be able to get him out.
He’d be too firmly wedged into the crack.
That thought gave me a quick shiver. He would truly have been in dire straits if that happened.
Scooting back up toward his torso, I reached out. “Give me your hand.”
His big hand wrapped around mine, and I braced myself as he pulled against it to sit up.
He didn’t get very far before a quick grunt of pain escaped and his muscles went slack, however. “Damn, that fricking hurts,” he said through clenched teeth.
I wished there was a way for me to help him with the pain, but there wasn’t, so I went with a harsh truth.
“Suck it up. You can’t stay between these rocks.
” Reassessing the situation, I realized I needed a new plan.
One that took some of the muscle power needed to get him up off his body and onto mine.
Letting go of his hand, I pushed to my feet, then put one boot on either side of his hips.
He looked up at me through the rain and raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to make this a little easier on you. I can’t deadlift you from the side.”
“Deadlift—what? Lana, I weigh two hundred and fifty pounds.”
“All of you weighs that. I’m only lifting your torso.” Reaching down, I grasped handfuls of his coat. “Hold onto my shoulder with your right arm and put the other one over your chest.”
The brow lift he gave me screamed out his skepticism better than words ever could.
I rolled my eyes. “Just do it.”
“Fine.” With a wince, he brought his left arm over his chest, then raised his right and grasped a handful of my jacket.
“Okay, I’m going to lift. Let me take your weight, and you shift your hips, so you’re sitting on your butt. Ready?”
“Yep.”
I tightened my grip, planted my boots and pulled.
He barely moved. All I got was more coat.
“I told you this wouldn’t work,” he growled. “I’m too heavy.”
“Oh, hush.” I wasn’t giving up that easily.
“I’m just not holding you in the right place.
This coat moves too much. Too much slack.
” I let go and tunneled my hands under it.
My fingers moved over soft fabric and tight flesh.
In any other situation, I would probably take the time to savor the feeling of his hard torso beneath my hands.
He was a fine-looking man who made my lady parts wake up and take notice, not to mention he made my heart beat a little faster.
But in the cold and pouring rain while he laid here bruised and broken, I tamped any of those feelings down. We had bigger problems.
“Now what are you doing?”
My hands found the waistband of his pants, and I smiled. “Getting a better anchor. Let’s try again.”
“Lana—”
“Shut up and lift your hips, Toren. I want to get us out of the rain.” Maybe he had hit his head. It was almost like he didn’t want to get out of this crevice.
His lips pressed together, and he glared at me, but didn’t argue.
“On three.” I adjusted my stance, taking his silence for acquiescence. “One… two… three.” Fingers tight around his belt, I heaved. His hips rose, then shifted, and his hand clutched my shoulder. With a moan, he sat on his rear and, holding onto me, managed to sit up.
I leaned back when his grip loosened. “See? Ye of little faith. I told you it would work.”
“I’m not out of this trench yet.”
“Nope, but with you on your butt, you just need to get that right foot under you, and I can roll you forward, so you can stand up. Are you ready, or do you need a breather?” This close, I could see the hints of lighter brown in his deep, dark eyes.
They looked a little less like fathomless pits from this distance and more like a dark lake I could lose myself in.
I tried not to do that as I studied his face for signs of pain.
His features were a little pinched, but his teeth weren’t clenched, which was good.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
His low growl brought me out of my thoughts and back to the task at hand. “Same thing as before. Let me take most of your weight. Just don’t bowl me over and make us both crash into the rocks, all right?”
A small grin flitted with his mouth. “Deal.”
Curling his right leg, he brought his knee up and planted his foot. “Stagger your feet. Because with my height and weight, my momentum will carry us over if you don’t.”
I dropped my right leg back, then readjusted my grip, moving more to hug him than just hang onto his belt loops. “Okay, let’s do this.” I counted to three again and heaved.