Shelter from the Storm Page 4

  * * *

  When Jesse had his anger under control, he glanced at the truck. Gemma’s head was bowed and her shoulders were shaking. Was she laughing at him? He’d been the brunt of her teasing before. He’d give a lot to know what she found funny in their current situation. As he walked past the truck bed, he caught the smell of gasoline. Leaning down, he checked under the truck but couldn’t see anything wrong. The undercarriage was resting on a snowdrift but the smell of gas was stronger. He wished he knew more about trucks, but he knew enough to be sure it was dangerous to run the vehicle if the gas tank was leaking.

  He pulled open the cab door. Gemma wasn’t laughing. She was weeping. His anger evaporated. “I’m sorry, Gemma. Don’t cry.”

  “I can—can cry if I—I want to.” She wouldn’t look at him as she sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue from the box on the dash.

  “We need to turn the truck off. It’s leaking gas.”

  Her eyes widened. She quickly turned the key and the engine died. “Is it dangerous?”

  “Not unless something sparks. We’ll have to get by without the heater. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Please forgive me.”

  “I’m crying because my ankle hurts.”

  He sighed heavily. “Then I’m sorry I made your ankle hurt worse.”

  “Go away,” she snapped and sniffed again. He took a step back. She looked up and held out her hand. “I didn’t mean that, Jesse. Don’t go. Get in here where it’s warm. You’ll catch your death out there.”

  “I’m pretty tough. A day in the cold is nothing new for me.”

  “Please?”

  He got in the truck, gently lifted her injured leg and placed her foot on his thigh. “You should keep it elevated. Is the snow pack helping? Am I forgiven?”

  She bent her other knee and scooted forward an inch to make her position more comfortable. “It’s hard to be upset with someone who is being kind.” She rubbed both eyes with her hands.

  “I will make it a point to be kind more often. I think we should get your shoe off, but that is up to you.”

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “I’m already crying. I guess now is as good a time as any.”

  She braced herself, but he was incredibly gentle as he pulled her shoe off her swollen foot. It immediately relieved some of her pain. He placed her shoe and sock on the dash and settled her foot on his leg again. “It needs to be taped up.”

  “With what?”

  He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a roll of duct tape he had noticed yesterday. “This might work. I’ll need to put your sock back on. I don’t want to plaster this to your skin.”

  After a few minutes, he had fashioned a crude brace for her foot. “How is that?”

  “Okay. Better I think.”

  “Warm enough?”

  “The blanket helps.”

  “I don’t know how. It has more holes in it than a cheese grater.” He reached over, tucked it tightly around her shoulders.

  “How long do you think it will take Dale to get help?”

  “It’s hard to say. Four hours, maybe less.”

  She leaned her head back against the glass and untied the ribbons of her bonnet. “Then we won’t be rescued anytime soon.”

  “You might as well try to get some rest.”

  Far from sleepy, Gemma closed her eyes anyway, but she could feel his gaze on her face. She endured it as long as she could. She opened one eye. “What are you staring at?”

  “I was trying to figure out what is different about you.”

  “I’ve got a suntan. The sun actually shines during the winter in Florida, unlike this place, which is dreary from late September until May.”

  “You think these beautiful snow-covered pines are dreary?”

  “I do.”

  She could see he was disappointed with her answer. If he thought the snow-covered woods and gray skies were beautiful, then he was odder than she had imagined. She waited for his next comment. She had never had this much of a conversation with him before. When he didn’t say anything else, she closed her eyes but her throbbing foot allowed her to sleep only fitfully. Sometime later, the cold roused her. She raised her head and found Jesse rubbing the frost off a spot to see out.

  “Are they here?” she asked hopefully.

  “Not yet.”

  “Oh.” She leaned back and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. “Can we have the heat on for a while?”

  “I don’t think we should risk it.”

  “Not even for ten minutes?”

  He shook his head. “I checked the gas gauge a half hour ago and the tank is almost empty. I know Dale filled up this morning before we left the motel. If the gasoline has pooled under the truck, we could start a fire. Or worse.”

  “Worse?”

  “An explosion.”

  That would be worse, she conceded silently. He knew more about vehicles that she did. She was cold, but she trusted his judgment and didn’t push the issue. “It’s snowing again.”

  It wasn’t a question. The windshield was covered. He moved her foot off his lap and opened his door. “I’m going to check the trail for any sign of them.”

  “That seems silly. You can’t see much outside and you’ll only get colder.”

  “Moving around will help me warm up.”

  “Oh, okay. That makes sense. I wish I could join you.”

  A gust of wind blew in the snow as he got out. It settled on her blanket and sparkled in the dome light. He closed the door and she shivered. She might not be able to walk but she could still move. She spent the next few minutes swinging her arms as she bent and straightened her good leg. It helped a little.

  Relief surged through her when Jesse opened the door again. She hadn’t realized how safe his presence made her feel. “Anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “They should be here soon, shouldn’t they?” She waited for his reassurance.

  “The snow will slow them down. The wind is picking up out there too. Parts of the road could be drifted over by now.”

  A chill slid over her skin that had nothing to do with the temperature. “They will still be able to reach us, right?”

  Chapter Four

  Dale should’ve been back by now. Something must have gone wrong.

  Jesse didn’t say that to Gemma. He had scanned the trail behind them for any sign of movement or the sound of another vehicle approaching. There was nothing but the wind in the trees and the snow flurries that continued to worsen.

  It was past two o’clock and the temperature was dropping. He had to make a decision and soon. The first rule when stranded in the wilderness was to stay put, but he had to get back to New Covenant tonight or lose his chance to purchase the land he wanted. The bank would open at eight in the morning. The auction was set to begin at nine o’clock. He could still turn over the earnest money before the bidding started as long as he made it home tonight and got to the bank as soon as it opened.

  “Any number of things could have slowed Dale down. We might have to head back soon,” he said.

  Without gas, he couldn’t run the truck’s heater. While the cab gave them protection from the wind and snow, without heat, it would be like staying inside a cold tin can. The forecast that morning had called for temperatures to drop to near ten degrees. It was going to get very cold tonight.

  “What do you mean by heading back?”

  “What I said. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You need to work on your communication skills.” She scowled at him but fell silent, and he was grateful. He got out before she could grill him.

  Another ten minutes passed. The visibility dropped to fifty yards as the snow moved in. He would have to go now while he still had a trail to follow. If Dale had reached help and someone was coming, they would meet each
other on the road. If for some reason he hadn’t made it, Jesse could still get Gemma back to civilization before dark and get to New Covenant before morning.

  She was a small woman, but he doubted he could carry her all the way to the highway. He needed a sled and he saw only one option. Dale wasn’t going to like it.

  Jesse walked to the truck and opened the driver’s side door. Even huddled in the blanket, he saw Gemma shiver. She looked at him hopefully. “Is Dale back?”

  “Nee.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking us out of here.” He closed the door.

  He was amazed at the number of tools Dale had crammed into his battered metal toolbox. There was even a short-handled ax, which had dozens of uses in the wilderness. He quickly removed the bolts that secured the hood to the vehicle. With it free, he tipped the curved hood onto the snow and pushed it back and forth. The rounded edges at the front made it a perfect sled. He fashioned a harness from the tie-down straps to go over each shoulder.

  Gemma had rolled down the window and was watching him. She wore a wary expression. “Let me rephrase my question. What are you making?”

  “A sled.”

  “For me to ride on?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Will you fetch my suitcase for me?”

  He shook his head. They were running out of time. “I’d rather we left it here. That way I don’t have to pull unneeded weight.”

  “I understand, but there are some things I need from it before we go.”

  He shrugged and grabbed it out of the back. She opened the door and took it from him. “Danki.”

  He stood for a few minutes trying to decide the best way to cushion Gemma’s ride. Sitting directly on the cold metal would quickly make her uncomfortable. What he needed was a couple of quilts. Lacking those, he decided a cushion of pine boughs might do the trick. Taking Dale’s ax, he walked into the woods looking for a young white pine. Their needles were soft and flexible. He found what he was looking for and brought back an armload. He dumped it onto the overturned truck hood. It was about the best he could do for her.

  He stepped up to the truck door. “We should get going. I want to reach the highway before dark.”

  “I’m almost ready.”

  She had her back to him. She had taken off her cloak and put on two more dresses over the one she wore. She looked as plump as the bishop’s wife. She put a second kapp over the one she was wearing and then tied her traveling bonnet over both. “Without warmer clothes, layering is the next best thing. I’m afraid I’m wearing most of the extra weight you were concerned about pulling.”

  “Don’t worry about that. It’s a goot idea.” He was surprised she’d thought of it. “Do you have any gloves or mittens?”

  She lifted a pair of socks from the seat beside her. “These will work as mittens.”

  “Okay. Are you ready?”

  She nodded. “As soon as I put on my cloak. We should take the water bottles with us.” She grabbed the plastic containers from the dash. One bottle was half-empty. The other one was full. She scooted across the seat toward him and gathered the wadded blanket to her chest.

  He rubbed his gloved hands on his trouser legs. He was going to have to pick her up and carry her due to her injured ankle. He knew she understood that without him saying anything because her cheeks were already bright red. He could tell his face was a similar color. He had never held a woman in his arms. That Gemma was the first one made him doubly uncomfortable.

  He slipped an arm under her knees and around her back. She curved one arm around his neck as she held the water bottles and blanket with her other hand. He lifted her out of the truck and held her against his chest. She barely weighed anything. He never imagined holding her would feel so amazing, so comfortable.

  Speechless, he stood gazing at her face framed by her dark bonnet. Freckles he had never noticed before dotted her nose and cheeks. Had the Florida sunshine made them more noticeable? Her eyes remained downcast. She smelled fresh, like sun-dried linen and faintly of flowers and coconut. It had to be the shampoo she used because Amish women did not wear perfume of any kind. He wanted her to look at him. To know what she was thinking. His feet refused to move.

  A gust of wind made her turn her face into his shoulder to avoid the driving snow. The desire to hold her closer and protect her from anything that threatened her surprised him.

  “Are you sure this is a goot idea?” she asked.

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  He quickly realized holding her in his arms for any reason wasn’t a good one for him. Emotions he’d worked hard to keep hidden were stirring just below the surface. Gemma was not the sort of woman he could care for seriously. She was flighty, and she rattled his thinking.

  The wind dropped away. She raised her face to gaze at him. Her luminous green eyes, fringed with thick dark lashes, were as trusting as a child’s. “I will try not to be a burden to you.”

  “You weigh about as much as a bird. You are not a burden.”

  “I meant I won’t be whiny and childish.”

  “You are hurt, and this isn’t going to be a fun-filled sleigh ride, shpatchen.” The name fitted her. It meant “little sparrow.” A tiny creature bold enough to attack a cat that came too close to the nest.

  Her lips curved in a soft half smile. “My grandmother used to call me that when I was a child.”

  It warmed his heart to see her smiling. “Don’t worry, Gemma. Everything will be fine.”

  * * *

  Despite her throbbing ankle and the biting cold, Gemma relaxed in Jesse’s arms. He must not think too badly of her if he could call her by a childish nickname. She didn’t remember the last time she’d felt so safe. Especially around a man.

  Until this minute, she had believed any chance of friendship between them had been ruined by her impulsive actions last year. Nothing she could say would undo his opinion except to behave in a manner he expected of a humble Amish maiden. Though he didn’t care much for her, she had no doubt he would do his best to protect her and make the journey back to the highway as quickly and safely as possible.

  He settled her on his pile of pine branches on the overturned hood. She scooted around until nothing was poking her unbearably and nodded. He took the blanket from her and draped it around her shoulders, pulling it tight beneath her chin. “Ready?”

  “I’m ready. Should we leave a note telling Dale where we have gone in case we miss each other?”

  “The road is narrow. I don’t see how we could miss each other.” He walked to the front and slipped his arms through the loops he had made from the tie-downs. He started forward and Gemma grimaced with pain at the jolt. She grabbed at the branches under her with both hands. He looked back.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine,” she said quickly.

  “You don’t look fine. What will make it less painful for you? I don’t know how long this walk will take, so think about that before you say fine again.”

  He was right. There was no need to suffer more than she had to simply to impress him. “Maybe if I had something higher to sit on and a way to keep my foot propped up a little.”

  “Will the toolbox be high enough to sit on?”

  It was about a foot tall and just as wide. “I think so.”

  She scooted to one side. He placed the toolbox toward the back of the hood and rearranged the pine insulation on it. Taking the ax, he cut another armful of branches and arranged them as a padded rest for her injured leg. He helped her settle onto them. “How is that?”

  “Better. Now all I need is something to hang on to if the terrain gets rougher.”

  “It will get rougher.” He cut another piece of webbing, fashioned it into a big loop and attached it to the front of the hood. He gave her the webbing to hang on to the way she would hold the reins of a horse.

 
He slipped into his harness and started walking. The seat and padding for her foot made it better but it was a far cry from comfortable. Knowing there was nothing she could do to help Jesse, Gemma gritted her teeth and held on, determined not to complain.

  The snow flurries grew heavier. A layer of white soon covered her blanket and the pine needles around her. The wind sent the fresh snow snaking across the trail where breaks in the trees offered access. Jesse’s makeshift sled moved easily over the snow, but he couldn’t avoid the dips and hollows that jolted her.

  They’d gone several miles before her fingers grew numb despite the socks she was using as mittens. She tucked one hand inside her cloak until her fingers stopped stinging, then switched hands to warm the other one. While it helped some, she was soon switching them every few minutes. She tried warming them both at the same time, but the sled hit a drift and she toppled over backward. Jesse was beside her before she managed to right herself.

  “Are you okay?”

  She sat up and repositioned her aching ankle. “I’m fine.”

  “What happened?”

  “I wasn’t hanging on because I was trying to warm my hands inside my cape. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what? Giving me a break? It’s not such a bad idea.” He looked around and spotted a place where he could sit on a toppled tree. A group of thick cedars behind it provided a windbreak. He maneuvered the sled up beside them. He knelt at Gemma’s side and pulled off his gloves. “Give me your hands.”

  He peeled off the socks she was using and sandwiched her icy fingers between his warm palms.

  Her hands disappeared between his large ones as he gently rubbed the circulation back into them.

  * * *