He’d break a window as a last resort. Although he didn’t want to create trouble for the business owners, he really didn’t want to compromise the shelter if he didn’t have to.
“Wyatt?” She slurred his name and tried to rub at her eyes.
He caught her hands, chafed them with his own. “We’re at the Goldrush place. What’s the security code?”
“Umm.” She squinted at him. “Try 48482,” she said through chattering teeth.
The code worked and the lock opened. He dragged her inside and kicked the door closed. Setting the lock once more, he turned his attention to the woman at his feet.
“I might be a poker-dealing popsicle,” she muttered.
“Maybe. But you’re definitely the sweetest one,” he replied. He tried to knock off the snow caked to her pants and quickly gave up. Scooping her into his arms again, he carried her away from any possible drafts near the front door and windows. One side window was already blocked by a snow drift, but enough light filtered through the window at the opposite end of the narrow building for him to find his way.
He tucked her behind the sales counter. “Wait here.”
“You think I’m a flight risk?”
Her humor was a good sign, he thought, hurrying away in search of the thermostat. Finding the system, he turned on the heat, praying everything with the system was in working order. The fan kicked on, which was a good sign. Although the shop had been closed up for the winter, there were cases of water stocked in a storage room and plenty of merchandise that could be helpful. He dragged a camp chair and a stack of polar fleece blankets embroidered with the Greenbriar logo behind the counter. He hauled over a case of water too and then started stripping away her frigid, wet clothing.
“Wyatt, relax. I’ll be okay. I just need some water and a few minutes to rest.”
“That’s what you said before you went down like a tree.”
“Did I make a sound?”
He shook his head at another attempt at humor. “I was around to hear it, so yeah.”
“Good.” She tried to help him peel away the layers, but her movements were more clumsy than helpful.
He gently swatted her hands aside. “Let me take care of you, Evie.” Kidnapping her hadn’t looked like a caring gesture at the time, but it had been the only way to prevent something worse. He wouldn’t let the storm steal her away from him now. “Just this once at least.”
She subsided, but he suspected they were both grateful he stopped undressing her when he reached the layers of her shirt and underwear. Her legs were chapped and rosy from the cold and soaked fabrics. He covered her in several blankets and then massaged her lightly all over, trying to work some feeling back into her muscles. Gradually the color came back into her lips and he checked her fingertips and toes to make sure she wasn’t fighting frostbite.
“The boots were too big, but they did the trick,” she said wiggling her toes. “Make sure you take care of yourself too.”
He handed her a bottle of water, opening the cap for her and then taking a bottle for himself. They both drank them straight down and he repeated the process for each of them. “I had better gear to start with,” he reminded her. Another strike against him for dragging her out here. Still, near frostbite had to beat a bullet on the grand scale.
“Stop beating yourself up, Wyatt.”
He aimed a scowl at the fireplace. “Does that thing work?”
“Yes.” She caught his hand and laced her fingers through his. “You did what you had to do in the casino, Wyatt. Iknowthat.”
Her hands were less like blocks of ice and more like the refrigerated case at the grocery. He studied her short fingernails, unable to meet her gaze.
“I’m safe,” she continued. “I’ll be room temperature soon. Thanks to you.”
Emotion clogged his throat. He quickly pushed away from her to find wood for the fire. “I left you at the SUV,” he said.
She muttered something surely unflattering. “Because you know I can handle myself. An hour ago you called me indestructible.”
“I was working out how to get back to you.” A blast of cold air rushed down the chimney when he opened the flue.
“Close it,” she snapped. “If you light a fire, the smoke will be a beacon to Tate and Baker.”
Crap. He’d been so consumed with her wellbeing he hadn’t thought about that. He did as she said and stepped back from the stone hearth.
“Do they sell sleeping bags here?”
