With an irritable snap of her head she looked for Luke. What was taking him so damned long? She was hungry. She wanted a bath. She wanted. What did she want? She couldn’t seem to remember All she knew was that it was his fault—it had to be.
She giggled. Better go find him She tried to stand, found that her feet wouldn’t quite support her. So clumsy. Better not let Luke see that. The world spun sideways, she knew she hadn’t been drinking, but it almost felt that way. Getting drunk without drinking.
It hadn’t seemed so cold before. Maybe if she changed her clothes. Joey tugged at the zipper of her light parka, pulling it down. Her fingers didn’t seem to want to work properly. She got the jacket open at last and tried to pull it off. Somehow she got tangled in it and gave a snarl of frustration as her arms twisted at painful angles.
“Joey.” The word came from far away. “Joey, what are you doing?”
The sound of the voice was like the annoying buzz of a fly. With a furious wrench Joey got the parka off and flung it in the snow. Something touched her, she punched at it angrily “Go away,” she snapped. “Go away!” She tried to stand again, to escape, but she seemed to have lost her legs And then she was falling, falling.
Luke caught her in his arms before she hit the snow. “Joey!”
She said something, the words slurred and strange. “I’m cold, Luke,” Her mittened hands flailed out to bat at his face. “Go away.”
Luke’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. Hypothermia. He cursed himself savagely. For most of the day he had ignored Joey, convinced of her ability to keep pace with him no matter how hard he pushed. He had been lost in himself, intent on shutting her out.
He had succeeded all too well. In his cowardice, his fear of her closeness, he had failed to see the signs, failed to note the early warnings. Such a small thing—insidious, creeping up with deceptive gentleness on the unwary, experienced and innocent alike.
And hypothermia could be fatal.
Luke stared at Joey’s pale face, blank and dazed, no comprehension in it at all. Closing his arms about her, he held her in a tight embrace, willing her his warmth, feeling the fragility of her body. He could smell the moisture on her, knew how it had happened—so easy for her to overlook the changes in the still air that seemed almost warm, forgetting her own limitations. He could only rage at himself for his own blindness and stupidity. For risking something as precious as her life.
No time now to finish putting up the tent, build a fire to warm her. Instead, he draped his parka over her and zipped it up, keeping her close as he half-carried her across the little clearing to the rocky face of the cliff-side. The shelter he sought was there the half-obscured opening of a cave, a dark shape shadowed by a slight overhang. Boulders and smaller rocks were scattered about the opening, and he thrust them aside as he dropped to his knees by the entrance, pulling Joey down with him.
There was no time to hesitate or weigh the possible dangers. He smelled the telltale scents of animal occupation, not recent but strong enough that under other circumstances he might have searched elsewhere for shelter. Now that wasn’t possible. Not with Joey half-comatose under his arm, in peril as great as any risk of confrontation with the former owner of the cave.
The cave was surprisingly warm, sheltered from the rising wind, the snow intruding only a scant few inches under the overhang that protected the entrance. Luke backed in, pulling Joey after him. She was almost limp, he set her down on the carpet of dried needles, old leaves, and gravel that made a bed on the cavern floor and held her against him. He closed his eyes and pressed his face to hers. “Joey! Joelle, do you hear me'”
His heart thudded heavily in his chest while he waited for her to respond. Her eyelids fluttered, and a faint smile moved across her face. “Luke?”