Recover.The word seemed impossibly sweet. And not at all likely.
But it gave her courage to step forward and kneel down at the mule’s head. She stroked his jaw, and he snuffled a greeting. When she moved her hand down to his muzzle, he nudged her as he always did.
Sweet friend.
Brielle was working on his chest, packing snow that quickly turned dark when she placed it on the animal’s hide. “They went for his neck and hindquarters like they usually do. Got a few good licks on his chest before we arrived. This one is the only one I can’t get to stop bleeding.”
“Shall I try?” Tending wounds was more often her responsibility than Brielle’s, at least when Audrey wasn’t around. She usually had the benefit of many herbs and bandages, but she could apply ice and pressure as well as her sister.
But Brielle didn’t move aside. “How is the man?”
The reminder jolted her. “Papa’s changing him out of his wet clothing. He must have fallen through the ice in the lake. I came to find dry firewood and his pack.”
Brielle glanced up at her, the gentleness in her eyes matching her voice. “Go build the fire and tend him. I’ll take care of things here.”
Whether from the words or the reminder that she had help now, Charlotte’s spirit eased. She inhaled a deep breath to steady herself, then released it. “Call if you need anything.” She glanced between Brielle and Evan, sending her quiet thanks to them both.
Evan stood as she did. “I’ll be more help with the wood and the fire than I am here.”
She turned to scan the area for Damien’s packs, doingher best to avoid glimpsing the wolf carcasses. The saddle lay a short distance away, but the bundles had already been removed. Had Damien planned to sleep in the cave? Possibly. The climb down the cliff never seemed to bother him.
She strode that direction, sweeping her gaze across the path in case she found his things along the way. There, on the ground above the cliff wall, lay the thick roll of furs. Another pack perched beside it, the one that would contain firewood. Damien must have left them both here on purpose, maybe while he scouted the cave.
She took up the smaller satchel. “All of these might be helpful.” Some of the furs hadn’t been scraped yet, but they would do for warmth.
By the time they reached her father and Damien, Papa had him bundled in all the dry furs and clothing at hand, including Papa’s own coat, which was what she’d fastened around Damien’s upper body.
Her father motioned her toward Damien’s still form. “Come sit with him while I help Evan set up camp.”
She dropped to her knees by Damien’s head.
Her father groaned as he pushed up to his feet. “He’s made a few noises, but I haven’t seen him open his eyes yet. Maybe rub his arms to get the blood flowing.”
She could certainly do that, but first she cupped her hands to his face, then leaned close so her words carried only to him. “Can you wake up now, my love? I need you to wake up.” His skin felt a little warmer beneath her touch. She prayed he would come back to awareness soon.
She moved her hands down to rub his arms as her father suggested, scrubbing vigorously over the furs that covered him. After working in that spot for several minutes, shemoved down to his legs and feet. Would he lose fingers and toes from being frozen? Or even hands or feet? She couldn’t let herself contemplate anything worse than that.
As she rubbed his legs, his limbs began to tremble. Was that a good sign? Maybe his body was working to return to a normal temperature.
She shifted back up to his shoulders and rubbed his upper arms as she studied his face. Still so pale, but his lips had now turned a bright red. A shiver slipped through her own body. If only he would wake up so she would know for sure he was recovering and not taking a turn for the worse.
Her father and Evan approached, Evan moving to Damien’s head. “Let’s get him to the fire now.”
She stood and backed away as they carried him toward the orange flames flickering a few strides away. Damien’s head rolled to the side as his body hung between them. The sight made him look too much like a corpse.
Lord, please bring him back. Please don’t let me lose him. Having him come to Laurent for his art skills no longer carried any weight in her mind. She couldn’t lose him—this man who’d come to mean so much to her in such a short time.
Once they’d positioned Damien’s body as near the fire as they dared, Evan left to check on Brielle and the mule. Papa motioned toward Damien. “Find a place beside him and keep rubbing his limbs. I’ll get water heating.”
She should be the one attending the fire and heating water, but maybe her father knew she wouldn’t want to stray far from Damien’s side.
As she continued rubbing warmth back into his body, her mind recalled the time she’d fallen through the ice of the river they crossed. When she’d awakened from her frozenstupor, she’d been tucked into the crook of Damien’s arm. No place could have been warmer.
She couldn’t do the same for him, though. His larger bulk would be impossible for her to sit upright, even with her father’s help.
This was the best she could manage. This, and prayer.
Every part of Damien ached. The parts he could feel, at least.
