At least the cabin was stocked with plenty of provisions. Not gourmet fare, but they wouldn’t starve.
Once she was securely on his back again, he started back up the trail.
“You’re going the wrong way.”
“We’re going back to the cabin. It’s too far to the car, and it’s too dangerous trying to go downhill with you on my back.”
“No, no, no, we have to get to town somehow. I need to get back home, I have work to do.”
“Your work will have to wait.”
“You don’t understand. My aunt and my father will be worried about me.”
“You’re not exactly a kid,” he pointed out. “I talked to your aunt yesterday and she didn’t seem worried at all. Said she didn’t need the car and to take your time, she would see you when she saw you.”
“But my father…okay, maybe it’s not that he’s worried about me, it’s the other way around. He’s ill and I don’t like leaving him alone.”
“Ill?” Russ hadn’t realized that. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He had some health problems before my mother died, and then he went into something of a downward spiral, culminating in stomach surgery. Honestly, I thought he was going to starve himself to death. He’s improving now, but he’s a long way from self-sufficient.”
Russ never would have done this to Sydney if he’d realized she had a father back home who needed her. If anything happened to the man, it would be on Russ’s conscience.
“I’m sorry, Sydney, really. But there’s no way we can get back to town today. Unless…I could hike back alone and call in a medevac helicopter to fly you to a hospital. But the clearing at the cabin isn’t big enough for a landing. We’d have to lower a line with a harness and raise you-”
“Stop, stop, you’re making me dizzy. I don’t like helicopters or hospitals and I definitely don’t like the idea of dangling in the air. Besides, the way this wind is whipping up, I’m not sure a helicopter would work.”
Russ had been thinking the same thing, but he’d been willing to try it if that was what she wanted.
“Your aunt promised she would call your father,” he said, wanting to make her feel better about the situation. “She’ll make sure he’s okay.”
Sydney grumbled a bit more, but there wasn’t anything she could do.
When he reached the creek, he followed the steep trail down to the water’s edge using a tree branch for support, then found a nice flat rock near where the water jumped over a little fall.
“How are we going to get across the creek?” Sydney asked as he eased her to the ground.
“One problem at a time. First, we’re going to do the next best thing to icing up that ankle. This creek is spring- fed and it’s freezing, even in summer.”
Sydney folded her arms stubbornly even while balancing improbably on one foot. “I’m not sticking my foot in a freezing creek. It hurts badly enough as it is.”
“Might take down the swelling, which would speed up your recovery,” Russ pointed out. “The sooner your ankle’s better, the sooner we can go home.” He sat down on the rock, pulled out his pocketknife and started trimming his nails as if he had all the time in the world. He did it only because it was such a country-bumpkin thing to do that he knew it would infuriate her.
With a huff she leaned on his shoulder and maneuvered herself into a seated position next to him on the rock. She peeled off the sock. “Eww.”
Her foot was turning blue. Not the best sign.
“How long do I have to leave it in the water?”
“About ten minutes should do it.”
With another huff she plunged her foot into the water. “Yowwwww! Holy mackerel, son of a pigeon-toed sailor, that
Russ winced. “Want me to tell you a story to take your mind off the pain?”
“No. I want you to reassure me I’m not going to lose all my toes to frostbite.”
“Frostbite’s not a threat in these temperatures,” he said, though the cold north wind reminded him that hypothermia was. That lightweight jacket she had on was totally inadequate in anything below fifty degrees, and that temperature was rapidly approaching.
While she soaked her foot and called him bad names, Russ scouted along the creek until he found a better place to cross, rather than the log bridge they’d used before. He didn’t want to try walking across the narrow log carrying Sydney on his back. But a little ways upstream the water was shallower and he could simply wade across. His boots would get wet, but they were only a few minutes from the cabin.
“It’s been ten minutes,” Sydney informed him when he returned. She already had her foot out of the water and was drying it off using her sock. She put the damp sock back on. “Can we go now?”
Even more colors were coming up on her ankle now: purple, red, green, black. They would be lucky if she could walk on it the next day. If not, he was going to have to hike out alone and bring help to transport Sydney off the mountain. He hoped the ice storm the weatherman had been talking about was only idle speculation. Those alarmist forecasts seldom came true.
With Sydney once again riding him like a horse, he started off to cover the last quarter-mile of the trail. “Does it feel any better?”
“It’s cold,” she groused.
When they reached the clearing and the cabin came into view, Sydney didn’t try to disguise her sigh of relief. “And here I thought I never wanted to see this place again.”
“Was it really that bad?”
“I had cold split-pea soup and sour canned cherries for lunch and I haven’t bathed since yesterday morning. Yeah, it was bad.”
“So you didn’t know how to light the stove?” he asked.
“Maybe you grew up knowing how to start a fire with flint and corncobs, but I haven’t a clue.”
The poor thing. He’d meant to get her out of the way, not torture her.
He should suck it up and tell her the truth. She was already mad at him. He would just have to make sure there were no knives or heavy, throwable objects within her reach when he told her he was going to refuse the inheritance.
Chapter Eight
“Carry me to the bathroom,” Sydney said the moment Russ brought her inside the cabin. “I’m taking a shower and no one is stopping me.”
“You really should elevate that foot.”
“I’m taking a shower,” she said through gritted teeth. “I cannot stand being dirty one more instant.”
The shower was actually a primitive tub conversion with a circular shower rod and a basic white plastic curtain. A tiny window let in just enough light to enable her to find the faucet. She reached inside the curtain and turned on the hot-water spigot. Nothing happened.
Russ hovered behind her, ready to catch her if she fell. “I’m afraid there’s no hot water, only cold,” Russ informed her.
“The nightmare continues.” Sydney closed her eyes, then opened them, hoping to change reality. Still no hot water. She closed that faucet and turned on the cold, which rewarded her with a gush of rusty water that gradually turned clear. It wasn’t just cold, it was icy.
She didn’t care. She turned on the shower, then started un-buttoning her blouse. “Unless you want to see me naked, I suggest you leave.”
He appeared to seriously consider the choice, which only made her madder. He’d blown any chances of seeing her naked when he’d tricked her into coming out to this nightmare of a cabin.
