He put his bare hand under my head. “Dale? Are you all right?”
“Um, I think so.” I was still assessing, remaining as still as I could until feeling returned to my body.
“Is anything broken?”
“Help me sit up.”
He put both his hands under my shoulders and supported me as I slowly got into a sitting position.
“I’ll never forgive myself if you’re broken,” he said.
“What? It isn’t your fault.” I bent my knees, flexing my muscles. Nothing hurt but my tailbone.
“It is too all my fault.” His voice lowered. The word “fault” almost sounded like a sob.
I started to brush snow from my sides. “Now that makes no sense. Can you help me try to stand?”
“Yeah. Go slow.” He kicked some of the ice chunks away from me to the side of the path.
I pushed down with my hands to get my weight on my bent legs.
“Take it easy.” Aspen put his arms underneath mine and wrapped them around my chest, supporting a lot of my upper body weight.
“Don’t slip,” I warned.
Right then, a sharp pain went through my tailbone. My back muscles tensed. “Ow, ow, ow.”
“What?”
“My lower back. Ow.”
“Do you want to sit down again?”
“No.” I straightened, moving my hips to assess the pain. “I think I bruised my tailbone.”
Once I was standing on my own, Aspen kept his arms around me.
“I’m okay. It’s all right. You can let go of me.”
His mitten-less hands slid down my sides. I turned and put one hand on his steady shoulder.
“Lean on me for a second and catch your breath,” he said.
I was grateful. But the wind was kicking up even more. He had to be freezing.
“Can you even walk?” he asked.
I moved my booted feet, wary of slipping again, as I continued to clutch at him. “Ow.”
“What?”
“Just a twinge in my back.”
“You need to get out of the cold right now. And take a muscle relaxant.”
“Yeah. I don’t have anything like that.”
“Come on back to the cabin.”
