He worked quickly to get off her boots, socks, and pants; those were all soaking wet. Though her coat had protected her sweatshirt underneath, it seemed a little bit wet on the back, and Reeves made an executive decision to pull it all off and wrap herin a clean, dry blanket. He did that, positioning her head directly over the hearted pillow.
He returned to the boxes and sliced open the one labeledcoats, pulling out feminine outer gear and tossing it toward her. He grabbed the other two blankets and another pillow, wrapped her feet in one of the downy coats, and covered her with a second blanket and then a coat over her legs, one over her torso, and one tucked all the way up around her shoulders.
He pulled her wet, nearly white-blonde hair back away from her neck and shoulders and splayed it out behind her, and then gently covered her face with the fur-fringed hood. With her completely covered the best he could do for now, he rested one hand lightly against her chest and waited for her to breathe. She did, and Reeves straightened, pulled out his phone and dialed Betty.
They’d dated a while back, and she was the receptionist at the electric company in town. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he said, as he went out the back sliding door to the woodpile. It was pathetically small, as no one had stocked it for the season, but he tapped on the speaker icon and then loaded his arms with wood while the phone continued to ring.
“What’s up, Reevesy?” Betty chirped.
“Hey, Betty,” he said. “Listen, real quick favor. I’ve got a new neighbor who moved in next to me. You know that house that’s been for sale?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“I need the electricity on now,” he said. “She’s here and she fell and hurt herself, and she’s knocked out. I’m building a fire, but it would be great if we could get the furnace going.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Betty said. “Tell me the number again.”
“Five-zero-seven-five,” he said. “It’s right next door to me, the old Beasley place.” A clacking came through the line, and Reeves covered it with his ragged breath as he went back insideand dumped the wood on the hearth. He’d need more, but for now, this would have to do.
He tore off the flaps from the blanket box and used them to catch the flame under the wood to start the fire.
Unfortunately, he didn’t carry a lighter with him, and he dashed into the kitchen and started pulling open drawers, though his mind screamed at him that the house had been empty for six months, and there was no way the Beasleys would have left behind matches or a grill starter.
Sure enough, they hadn’t, and he turned to the pile of boxes on the counters.
“Okay,” Betty said. “I’ve got it on. You can turn the furnace up now, and it should go.”
“Thank you so much, Betty,” he said. “I’ll call you later.”
“Hey, who is—” But he dropped his phone on the hearth on his way down the hall to the thermostat.
It sat at fifty, and Reeves jacked it up to seventy-five. That would be sweltering for him, but he had no idea how long this woman had been out in the cold or how bad her injuries were.
He hadn’t seen any blood anywhere, not even on her head, and he hoped that if he could get her warm, she’d wake up with maybe a headache and a few bumps or bruises and be fine.
He should probably call nine-one-one, but with the early arrival of a storm that was much worse than had been predicted, they could take hours to arrive, if they could even navigate their way here.
Reeves returned to the kitchen and started opening boxes. A triumphant yell burst from his throat when, in the third one, he found a grill lighter with a blue handle.
He returned to the living room and pulled back the furry hood of the coat he had placed gently over the woman’s face. “Hey, I’m gonna build a fire,” he said. “You’re okay. Maybe you could wake up. Are you there?”
She slumbered on, and Reeves turned his attention to the fire. Within a minute, he had the dry wood crackling, and he left the gates open so the heat would roar out over her. Then, because Reeves was no stranger to sleeping outside in sub-zero temperatures, he knew that the best way to get her all the way warmed up as quickly as possible would be to join his body heat with hers.
He kicked off his boots, shed his wet jeans and jacket, and let his survivalist training kick in. With only his sweatshirt still on, Reeves quickly grabbed the rest of the couch pillows, and then started dragging boxes closer to build an enclosure around her that would keep the heat from the fire close instead of letting it disseminate throughout the house. He felt silly in his boxers, but thankfully, no one was there to see him.
With a wall of boxes behind them and a couple tilted toward her head, Reeves finally lay down on the floor beside her and rolled her onto her side. She groaned again, and he said, “Hey, it’s okay. My name is Reeves Durham, and I’m just helping you get warm.”
He pressed the length of his body behind hers, her head now resting on his inner bicep, as he tugged the third blanket up and around himself.
He rolled her slightly forward again, so he could reach his phone from where he left it on the hearth, and he pulled the blanket up and over both of their heads.
Everything inside him calmed now that the fire was built and they had a makeshift structure that would hold the heat. The angel definitely seemed to be breathing, her chest rising and falling in an even rhythm against his chest. He positioned a pillow under his head and then one under hers, and texted Betty with one hand.
Can you look up who bought this house?he asked.Maybe she has family in the area that we can call.
He distinctly remembered that she’d had a phone in her coat pocket, but Reeves had tossed the wet garment into the dining room and couldn’t reach it. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself, because he knew better, and he’d been in plenty of emergency situations like this, though not for a while, and perhaps that was why he’d missed a crucial step.
Let me look, Betty said, and it seemed like an agonizingly long time until she came back with,It’s a Bailey McAllister. I’m looking her up right now.
