Shelter From The Storm. Patricia Davids

webbing to hang on to the way she would hold the reins of a horse.

      He slipped into his harness and started walking. The seat and padding for her foot made it better but it was a far cry from comfortable. Knowing there was nothing she could do to help Jesse, Gemma gritted her teeth and held on, determined not to complain.

      The snow flurries grew heavier. A layer of white soon covered her blanket and the pine needles around her. The wind sent the fresh snow snaking across the trail where breaks in the trees offered access. Jesse’s makeshift sled moved easily over the snow, but he couldn’t avoid the dips and hollows that jolted her.

      They’d gone several miles before her fingers grew numb despite the socks she was using as mittens. She tucked one hand inside her cloak until her fingers stopped stinging, then switched hands to warm the other one. While it helped some, she was soon switching them every few minutes. She tried warming them both at the same time, but the sled hit a drift and she toppled over backward. Jesse was beside her before she managed to right herself.

      “Are you okay?”

      She sat up and repositioned her aching ankle. “I’m fine.”

      “What happened?”

      “I wasn’t hanging on because I was trying to warm my hands inside my cape. I’m sorry.”

      “Sorry for what? Giving me a break? It’s not such a bad idea.” He looked around and spotted a place where he could sit on a toppled tree. A group of thick cedars behind it provided a windbreak. He maneuvered the sled up beside them. He knelt at Gemma’s side and pulled off his gloves. “Give me your hands.”

      He peeled off the socks she was using and sandwiched her icy fingers between his warm palms.

      Her hands disappeared between his large ones as he gently rubbed the circulation back into them.

      * * *

      Gemma’s hands were small and amazingly delicate. They were also ice-cold. His determination to keep her safe grew tenfold. “It shouldn’t be much longer. I think we’ve come at least eight miles. I can’t believe we have more than two or three miles left to go.”

      “I don’t see how you can follow the truck’s tracks in this snow.”

      The tire tracks had been obliterated by the blowing snow miles back. “I can’t, but I’m sticking to the road.” The wider opening between the trees had been his only guide for the past hour.

      He realized the socks Gemma had been using for mittens were wet. Putting them back on wouldn’t do her any good. He needed a way to keep her upright without having her hang on to anything.

      He cut free the webbing she had been holding on to. “What are you doing?” she asked.

      “You’ll need to keep your hands inside your cloak.”

      “If your intent is to dump me out in the snow, just say so.”

      “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.” He set about making a smaller loop on one end.

      “And removing my only way of hanging on isn’t silly?”

      “You can’t put the wet socks back on.”

      “They will work for a couple more miles,” she insisted.

      “Nope.”

      “Fine. Leave me here and go get help.”

      “Don’t be absurd. I’m not leaving you. Raise your arms.”

      “Why.”

      “Because I asked you to.”

      She folded her arms across her chest. “Not until you explain to me what you’re doing.”

      Even cold and miserable, she could be obstinate. He sighed heavily. “I’m making a smaller loop to go around your body. I’m going to fasten the other end of the strap to the front of the hood and pull it tight. That will keep you from falling over backward in the rough places.”

      “That’s all you had to say.” She held out her hand. He gave the loop to her. She slipped it over her head and settled it under her arms.

      “How is that?” he asked.

      She pulled her hands inside her cloak and leaned back several times to test the strength and tension. “It’s fine.”

      “Fine enough to last a few more hours?”

      “It’s getting dark already.”

      He held his arms wide. “Want to spend the night here?”

      “Of course not. Are you worried that we haven’t met up with Dale yet?” Giving voice to her concern made the situation seem even more dire.

      “I have enough to worry about getting you to safety.” He pulled on his gloves, slipped into his harness and started trudging forward again.

      Although Gemma had always been impressed and intimidated by Jesse’s size, she had never considered how strong he actually was. Walking through the knee-deep snow and pulling the sled had to be exhausting and yet the only break he had taken was to ensure her comfort. His determination was amazing as he struggled through deeper and deeper snowdrifts. He fell to his knees once but got up and kept going. As darkness fell, Gemma shivered in the increasing cold. The snow finally let up. The clouds overhead thinned out and the thin sickle of the moon cast the landscape in harsh shadows of black on white. She huddled over as low as she could get but the wind still found her and sucked away any warmth from beneath her blanket. When she had reached the end of her endurance, she heard Jesse as he muttered something that sounded like “Finally.”

      She raised her face to see a break in the trees ahead. She was ready to cheer if her teeth would stop chattering long enough. Her elation died a quick death as Jesse pulled her sled into the open. There wasn’t a highway in front of them. Only the remains of some kind of building in a small clearing. A cabin maybe. A chimney jutted above part of the roof that hadn’t fallen in. She didn’t remember seeing a place like this on their way this morning. Could they have passed by and she just hadn’t noticed the building? She listened but didn’t hear the sounds of traffic. Nor did she see any lights.

      Jesse dropped to his knees and bowed his head. Fear sent a surge of adrenaline through her aching body. “Jesse, are you okay? Where are we?”

      He looked back at her, but his face was in the shadows and she couldn’t read his expression. “We’re lost.”