Nodding at her, I give her body a cursory assessment. Boots aren't made for hiking, but they'll do. The coat is better than nothing. Gloves are thin, probably designed more for fashion than actual winter weather, but at least they cover the skin. The real worry I have in the moment is what her kids are wearing. Keeping them warm will be a priority until we reach shelter.
She's thanking me as I pull open the back door, ducking into the darkness to count children, but jump back as boxes tumble out onto the snow. Wrapped boxes with bows and ribbon covering them. Christmas presents. The backseat is full of Christmas presents, not kids. Something like relief flickers in my chest at the realization that I only have to get one person to safety. Not a whole family.
"Oh no." The woman drops to the ground, gathering up the gifts that have fallen and trying to stuff them back into the car, even as more spill out. "They'll be ruined."
"Ma'am." I start, but she doesn't seem to hear me, just continues grabbing presents, until her arms are full and she's trying to wedge her foot under another to keep it free of the snow.
"Ma'am, we can leave them here. Nobody's going to steal them." I have to raise my voice to get her attention, and when I do, she turns to me.
Her lower lip is trembling, and I see the telling shivers that warn me she's already cold, but she doesn't drop what she's holding. In fact, it's as if my suggestion angers her somehow. Her shoulders go back, her lips form a stern line, and I can almost feel sparks shooting from her eyes as she glares at me.
"These gifts are fromSanta." She says the S-word like it's magic, as if that's all I need to know to understand why thesegifts are so special. "I have to deliver them tonight. So the kids see them when they wake up."
"You're telling me you'd be okay with freezing to death, rather than leave these gifts behind."
It sounds cold. It is cold. Even I'm getting a little cold and I went through arctic training before I deployed. I know my physical limits. This woman apparently does not know hers.
"I don't want to freeze. Nobody wants to freeze." She looks at me, arms still full of gifts, stubbornness rigid in every inch of her. "But I can't leave without these. I made a promise."
I close my eyes, seeking patience, and give myself a couple seconds to recover my calm. Delivering presents to kids isn't my problem, but I'm not going to abandon someone in this kind of weather. And we don't have time to debate the issue.
"Fine. Got something we can carry them in?" I grit out the question as I open my eyes, and she gives me a flash of a smile as she nods.
"In the trunk. I picked up a new bag just before I left town, because when I tried to pack these up, I found there was a hole in the old one."
We get the trunk open and I see a blanket tossed in one corner and a red square, wrapped in shiny plastic.
It's simple work to open the bag and I hold it in place as she carefully puts the presents in her arms inside.
"I'll do the rest if you take this." I can't wait for her to gingerly pull each gift off the seat so I take them in handfuls, until the red sack is bulging. But there are too many and I can already see the argument forming on her face as I turn around. "Hold on."
The blanket from the trunk is easily tied into a pouch and I add the remaining presents to it, then hand it to her.
"I'll take the big one. You carry this." I slam the car door shut and look down at her. She's small, cold, and yet, more determined than most people I've met before. Even somesoldiers I've trained with. "Stay close to me. Hold on when you need to. We can't afford to get separated."
I'm grateful when she nods, but then she leans in and says something the wind snatches away.
"What was that?" I have to get close, so close that her lips are level with my ear. It's awkward, but necessary. And it ensures I don't miss what she says next, her warm breath a welcome contrast to the cold swirling around us.
"Thank you."
3
CELESTE
I can't get the way he looked when I thanked him out of my head. I should be focused on the hike, the snow, the cold, but instead, my eyes are trained on the path he makes with each step, and my mind replays the shock in his gaze at my simple gratitude.
It makes me wonder what this man's life has been like. He's clearly fit and capable, physically able to excel in these frigid conditions. His broad shoulders are hard to miss, and he exudes this sense of no nonsense ability that made me trust him instantly.
He'd even given in when I'd refused to leave without the gifts. It probably seemed stupid to him, frivolous or ridiculous, but he'd seen the problem and helped me solve it. There was a heart underneath all the gear he wore. I was sure of that.
The constant movement keeps me warm, but my jeans are getting more and more wet as the snow continues to blow around us, and my feet are getting heavy. At one point, I stumble, and my hands land on his back. He stops instantly, turning and looking me over, top to bottom.
"I'm okay," I say, aiming to reassure him that I can keep up, but the urge to find a warm place to sleep is weighing on me.
He shakes his head, sets the bag of presents he's carrying on the ground, and strips off his coat, holding it out to me.
"I can't." My thoughts are sluggish, but foremost in them is that this man is my only hope of getting to safety and he needs his coat for us to make it out of here.
