Unable to think of any other options, she raced to the shed where she kept the generator and her dad’s old 4-wheeler, grateful she’d kept the ancient ATV serviced. When she yanked open the door, she spied the old wooden snow sled from her childhood, still hanging on the wall.
Better than nothing, she thought as she grabbed the sled and a rope, securing them onto the back of the ATV. After a couple of frustrating tries, she finally started the machine and drove to the back door of the cabin. Leaving the engine running, she raced inside for a blanket and a bottle of water, pointedly ignoring the trail of gooey mud she left in her wake.
Maneuvering the 4-wheeler through the deep goop proved even harder than walking in it. Twice, she skidded out of control, thankful for the slight berm that kept her from sliding further than the road’s edge. She’d have to be more cautious. Further down, where the man lay, no berm existed. Just the steep slope before the drop-off into the gulch.
She made herself drive slower, using the lowest gear to crawl through the mud at an exasperating pace, but at least she stayed on the road.
Gus whined and stood when she rounded the bend, alternately licking the man and looking at her, his tail waving like a checkered-flag at a drag race. Brie felt sure this was the slowest race she’d ever run, with possibly the gravest consequences.
When she finally reached them, she turned a wide circle, pointing the ATV back up the hill toward her cabin and jumped off to check the man’s condition before unloading the sled. Suddenly, the idea of putting someone his size on that child’s sled seemed not only ridiculous, but impossible.
His eyes were still closed as she knelt and spread the blanket over him. “Good job, Gus,” she said when the dog whined again and nosed her hand. “Now, all we have to do is figure out how in the world, we’re going to get him out of these rocks.”
~ ~ ~
Something prodded his shoulder, jarred his head and set a hammer to the anvil, again.
“Cease, ye blasted fool,” he croaked. “Have ye no pity?”
“Oh!” Someone gasped. “You’re awake! I…I was just…. How do you feel?”
A woman’s voice?The sound seemed to echo as it ricocheted inside his head.
Raising his eyelids the slightest amount instantly rewarded him with a knife-thrust of pain. He winced, groaned and squeezed them tight again. The light was excruciating.
“Does the light hurt?” she asked.
“Blow it out.” He whispered.
“What?”
Had she no’ heard him? “The light,” he tried to speak a little louder, but his own voice reverberated painfully in his head. “Could ye blow it out, lass? ’Tis too bright by far.”
“Well…” She sounded unsure. “It’s the sun, so…”
He felt her wiggling at his side and wished she wouldna jostle him so.
“How’s this? Better?”
Cautiously, he tested whatever she meant, by barely opening one eye. Startled by the face hovering but an inch above him, he would have recoiled if he hadna already been pressed firmly against the anvil. But thankfully, ’twas no’ as bright as before. He opened both eyes. Wider.
Her head blocked the sun, creating a shining halo around her pale hair. But ’twas the sapphire of her eyes, deep and dark rimmed, that held his attention. Her breath fanned his face as she studied him, her parted lips so near, all he had to do was lift his head and…
Wait.Had she asked him something? He couldna recall just what.
“Who are ye?” he finally mumbled.
“I’m Brie.” She smiled, pulling back a little. “Who are you?”
Thankfully, she still shaded his face, though he struggled to adjust to the additional light. He wished she’d come back.
She arched her brows, waiting for his response.
Och. Aye. Who was he?He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing prompted his tongue to move. No name, familiar or otherwise, came to mind. Inside his head was a twisting, curling cloud of gray smoke and try as he might, he couldna find his way in, nor out of it.
“I dinna quite remember.” Startled at such a blunder, he thought harder. “Someone called for a Gus. Mayhap…I am Gus?”
An odd look crossed her pretty face. “Icalled Gus. He’s my dog.”
