She followed him out the door, Nash at her heels.
In the pounding rain, her determination faltered. A purely miserable day loomed. Water sloshed at her feet. Wind erased every memory of heat. Visibility shrank to afew feet, urging her to hurry after Hawk lest she lose sight of him. Behind her, the slosh of Nash’s steps provided more impetus to stick close to Hawk.
They navigated through trees that dripped miserably.
Hawk stopped. She and Nash drew to his side. He pointed at a fallen tree, its shattered branches strewn at their feet, the trunk wheezing on the ground. She squinted and gasped.
“Is that Shorty?” A face almost hidden by a branch peeked out. Nothing more of him showed.
“It’s him.”
Nash swept aside a leafy branch. “Shorty?”
No response.
“He’s still alive,” Hawk said. “Barely. No tellin’ how long the man’s been here.”
Ignoring Nash’s presence, Addie edged in closer to Shorty, leaned over, gripping a branch to steady herself, and touched Shorty’s face. “He’s cold as ice.”
“Guessing we all are,” Hawk said.
She pressed her fingers to Shorty’s neck, seeking a pulse. Air rushed across her teeth when she detected one.
The tree shifted, putting her off-balance. She would have fallen except Nash caught her arm and pulled her back. “Whoa. We don’t need a second person to carry out.”
An alarming jolt of warmth rushed up her arm. She hadn’t come here to think of Nash as a man. He remained just a person. As she shrugged to escape his hold, she still teetered off-balance. Only his grip on her arm kept her upright. He eased her back until she steadied. He still didn’t release her arm, forcing her to shrug him off. But twisted branches had tangled around her feet, and she grabbed his arm to keep from falling.
He chuckled, and she bristled. How dare he mock her efforts to avoid him?
She might have voiced her protests, but Hawk spoke.
“Nash and me will lift the main trunk. Miss, you make sure nothin’ falls on Shorty.”
Nash and Hawk picked their way to the thick trunk and leaned into the task. Branches creaked and snapped. One released and sprang toward Addie, sharp twigs gouging her cheek. She staggered back and fell on leafy debris. Hoping no one—namely Nash—noticed, she righted herself and knelt beside Shorty, pushing aside branches snapping toward him. Her acute awareness of Nash made her grit her teeth. No room in her life existed for such feelings. Besides, what did she know about him apart from the fact that he owned beautiful eyes and he’d been kind to Mother?
The tree lifted. The men heaved it farther away. Shorty lay exposed. A dark area on the leg of his trousers suggested blood.
Nash hunkered beside her. He ran his hands along the man’s limbs. “Hard to say how injured he is.”
“He certainly isn’t going to improve out here in the cold.” She hadn’t meant to sound so sharp. But he seemed not to notice.
Hawk spoke from beside her. “Nash, help me get ’im on this stretcher.”
Stretcher? Where had that come from? Hawk must have brought it out before he came asking for help.
“Miss Addie, steady his legs. ’Pears one is injured.”
Nash and Hawk rolled the man to the canvas stretched between two long poles while Addie held Shorty’s legs together.
The man groaned but didn’t wake.
The men picked their way past the debris left by thefallen tree, through the woods, and across the muddy clearing. Addie hurried ahead to open the door and stepped to one side as they carried the man indoors and deposited him on the bed.
Together, they rolled Shorty, with Addie holding his legs steady, and eased the stretcher from under him.
The stain on the leg of his trousers widened.
“His wet clothes need to come off.” Nash’s silvery eyes impaled Addie, making it impossible to think. “Maybe you’d like to wait by your mother.”
