“Weather’s unpredictable up here,” I said finally. “And this is as much my fault as it is yours. I agreed to the freezer idea too.”
Jesse’s eyes met mine, surprise evident in them. For once, he seemed at a loss for words. He just nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest as he tried to stop shivering.
“You’re still freezing,” I muttered, digging through my bag. I pulled out a thermos of coffee Evelyn had packed for us. “Drink this before the cold sets in.”
He took it gratefully, his fingers brushing mine in the exchange. I tried to ignore the jolt that ran through me at the contact.
“Thanks,” he said, unscrewing the cap with trembling hands. Steam rose between us as he took a long sip. “God, that’s good.”
Outside, the wind howled louder, the tent walls bowing inward with each gust. The temperature was dropping fast. I could already see our breath fogging in the small space between us. This was shaping up to be a hell of a storm, worse than I’d anticipated. We might be stuck here for more than just the night. Hopefully the horses would be okay.
“How bad is it going to get?” Jesse asked, as if reading my thoughts.
I shrugged, trying to appear more confident than I felt. “Hard to say. But we’ve got enough supplies for a few days if needed. The cattle will be fine. They know how to huddle together for warmth. The horses will probably go join them on their own.”
Jesse nodded, but I could see the worry in his eyes. He took another sip of coffee, then offered me the thermos. I accepted it, our fingers careful not to touch this time.
“About this morning...” he started, and my entire body tensed. “I’m really sorry. I was half-asleep and?—”
“I told you,” I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended. “It never happened.”
The silence that followed was deafening, despite the howling storm outside. Jesse stared at the thermos in his hands, his expression unreadable in the dim light.
“Right,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “Never happened.”
I immediately felt like an ass. He was trying to apologize, and I’d shut him down. But talking about it would only make things more awkward than they already were, especially now that we were trapped in this tiny tent together.
The wind picked up again, rattling the tent poles. Snow pattered against the canvas like thousands of tiny fingers. I checked my watch. It was barely noon, but the storm had turned the day dark as twilight.
“We should try to get some rest,” I suggested, desperate to change the subject. “Nothing else we can do until this blows over.”
Jesse nodded but made no move to get into his sleeping bag. Instead, he just sat there, hugging his knees, his gaze fixed on the tent wall.
“I’m not used to this anymore,” he admitted quietly. “Being at the mercy of the elements. In Seattle, the worst we got was rain.”
“You get used to it again,” I said, surprising myself with how gentle my voice sounded. I let out a deep sigh. “And I’m…sorry.”
Jesse furrowed his brows. “For what?”
“For snapping at you just now. I know this morning was an accident.” He opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off. “But that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.”
Jesse nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to the thermos clutched between his hands. The silence stretched between us, filled only by the howling wind outside the tent. A particularly strong gust shook the canvas, making us both glance up.
“Fair enough,” he finally said, his voice barely audible over the storm.
I busied myself with checking my gear, needing something to do with my hands. The tent felt smaller by the minute, the air thick with unspoken words. Jesse continued to shiver despite his dry clothes, his teeth chattering slightly.
“You need to get in that sleeping bag,” I said, nodding toward the bedroll I’d laid out for him. “It’s rated for below freezing.”
He hesitated, then crawled over to it, sliding inside with stiff movements. Even in the sleeping bag, he continued to shake, his body curled into a tight ball. Dammit. He wasn’t warming up fast enough.
“You’ve got mountain sickness,” I muttered, recognizing the signs. The shivering that wouldn’t stop, the pallor of his skin. Hisbody wasn’t acclimated to the altitude and cold anymore. “Your core temperature’s dropping too low.”
“I’m f-fine,” he insisted through chattering teeth.
“Like hell you are.” I ran a hand through my hair, weighing my options. There was really only one solution, and neither of us was going to like it. “We need to share body heat.”
Jesse’s eyes widened. “W-what?”
