Chapter Twenty-One
“OKAY, THIS NEXT STRETCH is going to be a little tricky.” Hunter did his best to keep his voice calm and even.
They were nearly back to the trailhead. The journey had been painfully slow—and he wasn’t even the one who was literally in pain.
He still shuddered, remembering the sickening dip in his stomach when Emma had cried out and crumpled to the ground. It was as if his whole world had tilted sideways.
Thank God he was trained for exactly this sort of emergency. His instincts had kicked in. He’d assessed and treated the injury, and he’d kept his head on straight, even when a part of him wanted to panic.
A sprained ankle was bad, but it wasn’t life-threatening. She wasn’t alone or in any real danger. They’d rested, taken their time, had a snack. And then he’d helped her gingerly to her feet.
She still hadn’t been able to put any weight on her injured leg, but that was what he was for. Draping her arm over his neck, he’d held on to her by her waist. Determination had led him to a state of singular clarity. His only mission was to support her. To never let her fall.
Slowly, painstakingly, they’d set off down the path. Fortunately, he was fit enough that he’d been able to support her weight without any real trouble. Emma might not like leaning on other people, but she literally had no choice.
They took plenty of breaks, and once or twice, he had to carry her down particularly steep or rocky stretches of terrain.
But that wasn’t any hardship. If she hadn’t been so obviously uncomfortable, he would have almost thought it was nice.
Having her so close, keeping her bundled up safe in his arms.
By this point, she was flagging, though.
She followed his gaze and groaned.
The last big hurdle between them and the sweet, sweet parking lot was a stream. On their way in, they’d had fun picking their way across the rocks, but now…
“Just leave me here,” she protested. “I probably won’t get eaten by a bear.”
She was joking, obviously, but he knew her well enough by now to realize that the joke had an undercurrent of truth.
In no uncertain terms, he reminded her, “I am not leaving you here.”
“No one would blame you if you did.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. She didn’t really think he’d abandon her. Right?
“Everyone in town would have my hide, and once they’d found your corpse I’d get fired, and I’d never forgive myself.”
She waved a hand. “But other than that.”
“Other than that…” He gave her waist a gentle squeeze. “I guess you’re right.”
“See?” She smiled as if she’d won the argument and he was completely absolved for leaving her to die in the forest.
He twisted around to face her, and she let go of his neck. Still helping to steady her, he cupped her cheek, keeping her gaze on him. “I am not repeating this again. I like your company, and I do not want you to get eaten by bears.”
“I just said I probably wouldn’t get eaten—”
He cut her off with a quick, firm kiss. “Not taking any chances.” He shrugged off his pack, then slung it around to wear it on his front. “Now.” He tilted his head toward his back in invitation. “Hop on.”
“Um…”
The last couple of times he’d carried her, he’d done it bridal style, and it had worked well enough. But this time he needed to be able to look down and see where he was planting his feet.
“Come on, it’ll be fine. Trust me?”
Their gazes met, and she swallowed. “Yeah. I do. But…”
“No buts.” He grinned wryly. “You can even film it if you want.”
She laughed. All thoughts of recording any more content for his social media account had fallen by the wayside since she got hurt. She shook her head. “No—”
“Then I’ll do it.” Without waiting for her to give any further assent, he turned around and knelt down. “Here, put your arms around my neck.”
“I don’t want to break you—”
“I’m tough, promise.”
Being way too careful about it, she did as instructed.
“Now hold on tight,” he prodded her. Once he was sure she had a good grip, he rose to his full height, grabbing her legs and pulling them around his waist. She yelped, clinging at him, but he had her. Always.
Holding on to her with one hand, he reached into the front pocket of his bag and grabbed his phone. After a couple of taps, he managed to get it started recording a video on selfie mode.
“Hey there,” he told his imaginary audience. “Even experienced hikers make mistakes sometimes. If one of your adventuring buddies gets injured, do not leave them to get eaten by a bear.”
“Okay, fine, I get it,” Emma squeaked, “you can stop now.”
He ignored her. “If they’re able to continue with assistance, great, help support them and try your best to keep them from hurting themself any further as you head back to base.
And, in a pinch, remember that you can always wear them as a backpack while forging rivers or traversing difficult stretches of terrain. ”
With that, he repositioned the camera to get Emma in frame. Her expression was pinched but fond, and without releasing her grip on him, she managed to give a weak thumbs-up and a smile.
“This is humiliating,” she groused once he’d turned the camera back off.
“More or less humiliating than your obituary saying you died of a broken ankle?”
“Debatable.” Her shrug jostled her hold on his neck. “At least I wouldn’t have to be there to read the obituary, you know?”
Casting his gaze skyward, he tucked his phone back away. “All right, here we go.”
Making his way across the path of rocks wasn’t as lighthearted and fun as it had been the first time, but they managed it without incident.
Honestly, he hated that she’d gotten hurt, but he’d give her a piggy-back ride anytime she liked.
He loved the warmth of her breath at his ear, the feeling of her arms looped around his shoulders, the heat of her body against his spine.
All too soon, he took the final big step onto the bank on the other side. He paused, ready to put her down, but really—what was the point?
“You good?” he asked, hugging her legs.
“Yeah, but—”
“Cool, hang on.” Without waiting for approval, he took off down the path. He knew this trail blindfolded. There wasn’t any reason to hold back.
“Whoa—” She clung onto him even more tightly. “What—why—?”
“Why not?”
“Because—because—” she spluttered. “Just because.”
“That’s a terrible answer.” He half turned his head toward her. “Do you actually want to hop the rest of the way to the car?”
“No, but—”
“Then that settles that.”
She kept making weak protests about how he shouldn’t have to carry her like an invalid, but unless she specifically revoked consent, he was done arguing about it. Within a few minutes, they emerged from the foliage and out into the parking lot.
“I can walk from here,” she tried.
“I know you can.”
He still carried her over to his truck. Rebalancing her slightly, he hit the unlock button and tugged open the door for her.
Then he turned around, letting her slide off his back and straight into the passenger seat.
There was some junk there, including the novel she’d brought him to give to his dad.
Reaching past her, he swept it all up into a bundle and threw it into the rear section of the cab.
She shrugged off her bag and set it in the seat well. Even though she was clearly trying to hide it, she winced, rearranging herself to face forward in the seat.
“You okay?” He hovered next to her open door, wanting to help more, but there wasn’t a lot he could do at this point except get her to the clinic as quickly as possible.
“Fine,” she bit out. But then she pulled out her phone and cursed. “I knew we were slow, but I didn’t realize we were that slow.”
It was his turn to try—and fail—to hide his wince. The trek back to the lot had taken at least twice as long as their trip out.
“I was supposed to be at work ten minutes ago.” She blinked furiously, a suspicious shine forming at the corners of her eyes.
“People have been late to shifts before,” he tried to reassure her.
“I haven’t, though. And Granny’s still away. Owen’s got a key, but he can’t run the place on his own.”
“He’s a competent kid.”
She shook her head, tapping at her phone. “We have to head straight there—”
“Hey.” When she didn’t acknowledge what he’d said, he put his hand over hers. “Hey.”
“Hunter, I—” She looked up at him, sheer panic racing across her face.
In no uncertain terms, he told her, “You need to see a doctor.”
“But—”
He looked pointedly at her ankle, which was obviously swollen. “What would you do if it was you working, and Owen had called out sick?”
She swallowed, a little of the manic haze fading from her eyes. “I’d deal with it. Try to see if I could get someone else to come in last minute to cover. But—”
“He’ll deal. I’m driving you to the clinic, and you can call around while we’re en route to see if you can find someone to take the extra shift.”
“But—” she spluttered, and he forced himself to hold his tongue. “I’m fine,” she said, almost desperately. “I just need a new ice pack and maybe an Ace bandage or something.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. Then a thought occurred to him. “Are you worried about the money? Because Doc Nguyen is really reasonable…”
“No, I have insurance—thank God. Just…” One of the fat tears brimming in her eye spilled over. “I don’t want to let Granny down, and I’ve already put you out enough. I ruined our hike, and—”
“Hey, hey, no.” He took her face in his hand, leaning down to put them eye to eye. “You didn’t ruin anything.”
“We had to turn around before we even hit the top. If I hadn’t been there—”
What was she even saying? “If you hadn’t been there, I would have been alone.”
And once upon a time, that was exactly how he would have preferred it. But not anymore. His heart squeezed in his chest, and in the back of his mind, there was a tiny frisson of discomfort. But there wasn’t any point denying the truth.