The terror in his voice echoed her own. “I’m okay,” she whispered. At least she thought she was. She might have sprained her shoulder, but she’d survived. And there was no way he’d heard her soft reassurance. “Dig me out, please?” This time her voice was stronger.
“Already working on it.”
She tried to relax. Gideon was here. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. It would be okay.Oh,please,God,get me out of here. You knowI don’t like this one bit.She’d never been a fan of small spaces. She refused to use the wordclaustrophobia, but if it walked like a duck—
“You’re going to be okay, Maya.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“I’m getting there. The ice is the biggest problem. The fresh snow you fell in probably kept you from getting hurt too bad.” A pause. “You’re really not hurt, right?”
“My arm is aching, but it’s not broken. Maybe a sprained shoulder.”
“Okay, just keep talking to me. I need to hear your voice.”
She needed to hear his too. “Grab someone to help?”
“There’s no one around at the moment, so until someone comes along, it’s just me because I’m not leaving you.”
“Good plan. I’m okay with that plan.”
“I’m getting there. Thankfully, you made a hole when you fell, and the snow didn’t cave in completely on top of you, but you must have fallen through some ice, because I can’t pull you out through that hole you made. It’s too deep. I’m going to have to dig down beside you and make another opening.”
Getting free was taking way longer than she would have liked, but the comforting sounds of his digging and his running commentary on his progress kept her sane.
Finally, a large chunk of ice fell away from her side, and thankfully, nothing else fell in when that moved. She rolled halfway outof the Maya-sized hole and blinked at the exposure to the light. Then found herself staring into Gideon’s eyes.
“Can I pull you the rest of the way out?” he asked.
“Hold on. I need to take inventory.” With the space Gideon had managed to give her by taking away the “wall,” she could move her legs, then her head slightly to make sure her neck didn’t hurt. It did. A little. Probably from hitting the ice so hard, but nothing worrisome. She tested her arms next. The one she landed on protested. “Okay, hold out your hand,” she said, “and let me grab onto you. My left arm hurts, but nothing too extreme.”
“I’ll let you tell me what you need—if I need to pull or just let you do everything on your own.”
“Just let me for the moment.”
He offered her his hand and she clasped his wrist. Using him as leverage, she wiggled her way out of the opening, and he helped her to stand, keeping a tight grip on her uninjured arm and not touching her aching one.
Her knees wobbled, and she gripped his wrists while she took stock one more time.
“Maya?”
His deep concern touched her. “I’m okay. I think.” She moved her sore shoulder, grateful when the stabbing pain eased into a dull throb. She managed a rotation. Not dislocated. “Bruised,” she said with relief.
He pulled her into a hug. A gentle one, but one that felt secure and very, very safe. All too soon, he set her back away from him and looked her in the eye. “What happened?”
“The snowmobile wouldn’t stop. The kill switch didn’t work and neither did the brakes.”
“What? How’s that possible?”
“I hate to say it, but the only thing I can think of is someone tampered with it.”
“But ... we were with the machines the whole time? Whencould someone have—” He stopped. “When we hiked up to the top.”
“Yeah.”
“And after you left, I noticed footprints around the area.”
Maya bit her lip, a cold certainty forming in her gut. “I really think someone is after me, Gideon.”
