Clark moved quickly. They needed to get back inside. No time to waste, not when he’d been so supremely stupid. Every second they wasted not moving towards the house was a moment she wasn’t getting the care she needed. Wordless and shivering himself, Clark scooped Kate into his arms, bridal style, and set his eyes on the peak of the house poking out from just over the trees in the distance. They left the clearing and the river behind, but not before he picked up Kate’s coat, the one she’d discarded before her expedition across the log bridge.
Invisible needles stabbed him as his wet skin met cold air. He could only imagine what Kate was going through. Her now pale body almost convulsed in his arms, though she kept the slightest of grips on his neck. The pressure provided him a small modicum of relief. As long as she touched him, he knew she wasn’t under.
The forest that scared him so deeply as a child now served as mere window dressing. Nothing mattered but getting her home. As he walked, he tried to keep her awake. What little warmth he felt in her body slipped away with every step he took.
“All right, Kate. It’s all right. We’re gonna get you home and take care of you. I promise. I just need you to stay awake and stick with me, okay?” he muttered incoherently, not that it mattered. The words weren’t important. He spoke to give her something to hold onto…and to keep his mind off of the fact that he let her get hurt. She could freeze to death or get hypothermia or lose her legs and it would be all his fault. All because he didn’t want to sit around a warm fire and sing Christmas songs.
With one hand, Clark maneuvered the coat his hands until he was able to pull out the cell phone from her pocket.
“Kate, what’s your password?”
“No password,” she mumbled, her head curling into the space between Clark’s shoulder and neck. Her breath tickled. At least it hadn’t lost its heat yet. Her phone lit his face, clearly asking for a password. Did she not want to give it to him, or was she so out of it she thought she didn’t have one? Clark wracked his brain. He couldn’t stop his walking and he needed help. He couldn’t help her alone.
Then it came to him. And he pressed four numbers. They granted him access. 1-2-2-5. December 25. Christmas Day. She really did love Christmas as much as she claimed. During their tour yesterday, Michael informed him that the nearest hospital was in the next town over, meaning even the fastest ambulance would be miles behind someone who lived in town. They’d never make it in time to save Kate. He needed someone who could help. And he needed them fast. Making quick work of the damp phone screen, he clicked the first name he recognized. The voice on the other end of the line answered in one ring.
“I knew you’d come around! Want me and Michael to pick you up—”
“Do you know a doctor?”
“What? Who is this?”
“Emily, there’s been an accident. Kate needs—”
“Woodward? Is that you?”
“Kate fell into the river trying to cross this log bridge and she needs to see a doctor.”
“Is it serious?”
“I don’t know, but I need your help.”
“Michael’s a medic.”
“Come to the house as quick as you can.” She didn’t respond. Desperation coursed through him. “Please.”
“We’ll be there in ten.”
Clark could only hope ten minutes would be fast enough. Michael’s medical expertise was their only hope. He hung up and continued his journey.
When the tree line broke, Woodward House loomed into view. Clark, who had until now been walking as fast as his legs would allow, pulled into a dead sprint. Kate’s hold on his shoulders had loosened. He was losing her to unconsciousness. Terror replaced his blood. The color evaporated from his world. He pressed onward into the house and upstairs to the first bathroom he could find. Shoving open the door with his shoulder, he entered and placed Kate on the counter, letting her body slacken against the wall. Her eyes slipped closed. They no longer fluttered. Clark fought the urge to vomit.
“Hey, hey, I need you to listen to me.” He tapped her hand, perhaps a little harder than necessary. It twitched, a good response. As he continued to speak, Clark spun the bathtub faucet. A small chain—part of the ancient plumbing system in this house—needed to be pulled for the shower, but as the water heated up, Clark reached for the nearest towel and tried to figure out what to do next as he frantically rubbed the barely-conscious woman dry. He couldn’t leave Kate in the shower alone. She’d drown. Waiting for Michael the medic would take too long. Kate needed warmth now.
With great care, Clark lifted Kate off of the counter, carried her to the steaming shower, and stepped inside with her, fully clothed.
The shower, like the rest of the house, showed its age. Glass and gold couldn’t have been more out of fashion; the pipes groaned from the sudden use of the hot water. Clark only saw the woman in his arms. He placed her on her own two feet, but held her close, almost as if they were dancing. The hot water washed over them in a steaming, restorative rain storm. Please be all right, he silently begged her. Please, please, please be all right. He counted her heartbeats against his chest, marking each one as a victory, a sign she could make it through this.
Slowly, Kate’s chattering teeth stilled. Her body ceased its convulsions. She looked up at Clark with an expression of half-awake awe, her heart hammering against his chest.
“You…” She trailed off. “You…”
Clark wanted to pull the rest of the words from her mind. What was she trying to say? Did she hate him for letting her fall down through the ice or love him for bringing her back
