I frowned. “It’s not my cabin anymore.”
“Yes it is. Until two o’clock.”
My thoughts rambled.He’s asking you back. He wants you back. He thinks it’s all his fault.
Aspen started to move forward, his arm underneath mine and across my back.
“Wait. My suitcase.”
Aspen turned to look at the suitcase in the snowbank. “Can you stand by yourself for a second?”
“Yeah.”
He left me for only a second to grab it, then came back to me.
“Careful there, it’s still slippery.”
“Yeah,” Aspen said, his breath white on the air. “We need to report that to the front desk.”
Slowly, we started back toward the cabin, Aspen supporting me with one arm and towing my suitcase with the other. As I walked, my strength began to return. The tailbone still smarted, but I could detect no serious damage.
“You’re doing great,” Aspen said, breathing a little hard. We came to the porch steps. “Can you get up the steps? I think there’s a ramp out back by the back door. But that door is locked.”
I saw he’d left the front door ajar. “I can do this.”
There was nothing wrong with my legs. It was more the shock of hitting my tailbone and my back muscles seizing. The pain was already receding.
We got up the steps and Aspen hustled me inside, wheeling my suitcase to the side and shutting the door.
Despite the door being left open, it was warm inside. I let out a heavy sigh.
“Let’s get you over to the bed.” Aspen set me down gently, then helped me off with my jacket which he tossed toward the foot of the bed. Next came the boots.
He fluffed up the pillows and helped me lie back. The attention surprised me. He’d been shut down when I left. I realized now that maybe he had been upset. Did I dare believe he hadn’t wanted me to leave?
The bed had been made, the covers drawn tight. But Aspen drew the folded, fleece blanket at the foot of the bed up and over me.
“I’m okay.” I started to push the blanket away.
Aspen’s hand brushed my pantleg. “Your pants are soaked,” he said.
That was quite true. The cold was already seeping into my thighs and ass cheeks. I shuddered.
“Off,” he commanded.
“My pants?”
“All of it. Underwear, too. I won’t look. You can cover yourself with the blanket.”
I almost laughed, but when I looked at his face I saw he was dead serious.
“I can walk. I’ll go into the bathroom and change.”
“You need to warm up. I’ll grab your suitcase and bring it over. But right now, get those wet things off.”
His voice compelled me to obey. I reached under the blanket and slid my sweats and boxers off all in one motion. Aspen politely turned away. I brought out the soggy garments and he took them, immediately going to the front of the room and placing them by the fireside to dry. When he returned, he wheeled my suitcase to my side.
“I really can walk,” I said. “I should get re-dressed and go.”
