She dropped to her knees by his side, but he didn't lift his head to acknowledge her. “Do you think you can stand?"
"I might need help." His voice sounded dull, and speaking brought another round of coughs. He turned away from her as he kept one hand gripping his head while the other wrapped around his middle.
Her own insides ached with his pain. She pressed a hand to his back, and as soon as he finished coughing, she said, "Let's get you up."
He reached out. "Hand me the sticks. As I pull up, you might need to lift me from behind. My left leg isn't as strong as it once was, and I don't think I can use the right one at all."
After helping him place the poles, she moved around to his back. He lifted himself by his arms, struggling to get even halfway up. She placed her hands on each of his sides to help him, and a grunting wheeze slipped from him. The tendons of his neck stood out as he strained, but finally he pulled all the way up to standing.
She moved to his side, but with the walking sticks in the way, she couldn't do much to support him. He stood on his left foot, his right one resting out in front a little. He seemed to bear most of his weight on the walking sticks.
He moved forward with both poles, then swung his body through the snow. His legs plowed furrows through the white, and Aaron let out a strangled sound. His leg must truly be broken to hurt like that.
She moved around in front of him. "Let me move the snow out of your way before you come through." He was already taking the trail she'd walked through, but she used her boots to clear away more crystals from the path, making the trench deeper so his injured leg didn't drag as much.
He followed behind her, and every time she looked back, his face was a little paler, his jaw locked tighter. He might lose consciousness from the pain before they reached the cabin.
She focused on clearing the walkway, but Aaron slowed as they progressed. When she reached the cabin door, he still hadn't rounded the rear corner.
She strode back to find him. If only she could help more.
There he was, and from the way his face twisted in pain, each step took all he had left. She couldn't even wrap an arm around his waist, for that would get in the way of his walking sticks. She placed a light hand on his back and followed just behind. "You can do it. We're almost there."God, now would be a good time to help him.
CHAPTER10
Once Katie helped Aaron hobble inside the cabin, she scurried ahead to prepare his blankets. He didn't lower himself onto them, though, but landed beside them on the hard dirt floor, his sticks falling away with a clatter.
He groaned as he laid back on the ground.
She dropped to his side. "Do you want to move on to the blankets? They'll be warmer."
He took in ragged breaths as he lay with his eyes closed. "Wet."
She scanned the length of him. His clothing was soaked, and his body had begun to tremble. She needed to build up the fire more, then get him wrapped in blankets. He had to get out of those wet clothes, but she couldn't help him with that, and if his leg was broken, he likely couldn't manage the bottom half by himself.
But perhaps they could change his shirt. That would help some.
She turned to look for the pack where he kept his personal items. There, by the food. "We need to put you in a dry shirt. Do you want to find one or should I?"
"You." His eyes were still closed, and pain lines creased around them. Even his voice shook with his shivers.
She untied the pack and flipped the cover open. The navy wool shirt he often wore lay near the top. She grabbed it out, then prepared it to slip over his head.
But first she had to get Aaron out of his wet garment.
She reached for the buttons near his neck. She only had to imagine herself a nurse, helping an urgently ill patient. Thatwasthe case, after all.
Yet as her fingers brushed his chest, she couldn't push away the attraction that made her own hands tremble. She could so easily flatten her palms to his shirt and feel the thick muscle beneath.
She couldn't let her mind linger on that thought. Aaron needed to get warm.
With the four buttons at his neck unfastened, she pulled back and eyed him. "Can you sit up to take off the shirt?"
His breathing stilled, and he lifted his head, then braced his elbows on the ground and worked his way up to sitting. Every shift took an incredible amount of strength. When he finally sat upright, his breathing started again. This time light and raspy. "Take off."
Moving to his back, she gripped the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled upward. An undershirt tried to come too, but she tugged it back down.
As she worked the outer garment up and over his head, he let out a strangled moan. The collar must have scraped his wound.
