Dread filled her, bone-deep and exhausting. They weren’t going to make it. And it didn’t matter if she begged. Colter would never leave her behind to save himself.
But if they were going to die out here, she wanted him to know how much his help meant to her. How much meeting him had changed her life. Had changed the way she thought about herself, the way she thought about what she wanted.
Meeting him had changed everything.
She’d been lying to herself, thinking she was halfway in love with him. When it came to Colter, there was no halfway. She was straight-up in love with the man. And after everything he’d been through—all the loss and guilt—she wanted him to know he was still worthy of love.
Yes, he was damaged, but so was she. And damaged was far different from broken.
Sucking in a breath full of frigid air, Kensie projected, wanting to be sure her words weren’t lost on the wind. “I love you, Colter.”
WAS HE STARTING to hallucinate?
Colter had wanted to give his coat—better suited for the freezing climate—to Kensie hours ago, but he’d known he wouldn’t survive without it. And with her injured leg, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it out on her own. Her makeshift bandage had been saturated with blood more than an hour ago, the wound bleeding freely again. He’d tightened it repeatedly, stemming the flow more than once. But it always started up again.
Even with his better gear, he knew they were both in serious danger of frostbite and hypothermia. Every breath hurt his lungs and his fingers had felt clumsy and uncoordinated on the too-tiny numbers of his phone. Maybe his mind was going, too. It was the only explanation for the auditory hallucination he’d just experienced, Kensie saying she loved him.
He snorted. Maybe in his wildest dreams.
But then he heard it again, and there was no denying it was her beautiful voice speaking the words, even though her voice was rough from the chill. Joy filled his heart so fast it actually hurt, but worry followed immediately.
She thought they were going to die. It was the only reason she’d admit something like that.
He wanted to say it right back to her. The thought shocked him, made him set his right leg down crooked, twisting it sideways. He slipped, but righted himself quickly, even as it registered that he hadn’t felt pain like he should have. His body was shutting down.
Or maybe the joy of her words was just overriding any pain.
He glanced at Rebel, sticking to his painfully slow pace beside him. She was struggling, too, whimpering every once in a while when she put weight on that back leg. “I’m sorry, girl,” he whispered.
Louder, to Kensie, he said, “You’re just scared. We’re going to be fine. Save your strength.”
But his mind was screaming at him to say it back. He loved her.
The very idea was shocking. He hadn’t thought he was capable of loving anyone new. Hadn’t thought his heart had any room left in it after the loss of his brothers.
He loved his family, loved Rebel. But that was all he could handle. A woman like Kensie deserved so much more than he could give her.
And yet...he wanted to give her the world. He wanted to stand beside her, not just when they made it off this mountain, but years beyond. Wanted to experience a life with her, have children with her.
The thought was a betrayal of the promise he’d made that day when he’d woken up in the hospital and the doctors had finally admitted to him what he already knew in his heart. They were gone, all of them. He was the only survivor.
He’d looked up at the ceiling and promised never to forget them, swore he’d bide his time until he joined them. He’d never felt suicidal and yet, for the past year, he hadn’t really wanted to live. Probably the only reason he’d come this far—pushed through the agony of his surgeries and the long recovery—was Rebel. His partner. His family.
But somehow, in the past four days, Kensie had become his family, too. He loved her.
He loved her.
It didn’t even seem possible in such a short time, but he couldn’t deny the emotion rising up in him. The protectiveness, the desperation to save her, no matter what it cost him.
“I love you.”
For a second, he thought he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. Then, he realized she was repeating herself.
“Kensie, we’re going to make it,” he told her. “I know you’re scared, but you have to believe.” When she tried to speak again, he cut her off, lungs burning as he kept pressing forward, one slow step at a time. “Tell you what. When we make it out of here safely, if you still want to, you can tell me. Okay?”
Getting so many words out made his lungs scream, but he had to do it. If she really did love him, maybe it would help her hold on. Even if his leg gave out, maybe he could get her far enough. He’d tell Rebel to lead her out. His dog wouldn’t want to leave him, but he knew she’d come to love Kensie as much as he had. And Rebel was tough, just like Kensie. With a break, with Rebel by her side, Kensie could push through. The two of them could make it. He just had to get them as far as he could.
But his leg was slowing him down more with every step. The pain was back now, the numbness from before gone, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Because he could barely feel the rest of his body. He had no idea how he was keeping hold of Kensie, but he knew if he adjusted his grip at all, it would break.
He’d never felt this much agony
