Denali Dreams (16 page)

A boot! He saw a boot. “Jolie! Jolie, can you hear me?”

Nothing save the bitter wind.

He’d have to rappel. David spun, dug his ice axe into the snow to use it as an anchor, then moved to pound in an ice screw as a secondary anchor. He donned his leg prusiks and prepped the mechanical ascender. At the lip of the crevasse, he padded the lip of the anchor to prevent the rope from digging into the snow and ice.

He used another rope and carabiner to lower his pack down into the crevasse. Once it was down, he went to work lowering himself into the icy gorge. Though it took only minutes to get set up at the bottom of this inverted pyramid, he felt like it’d been an hour.

David lowered himself onto his buttocks then rolled onto his belly, holding the rope as he eased over the edge, mentally chewing her out for not staying with her team and roped up. A team rescue would be so much easier.

He rappelled down the fifteen feet to where she lay. He unhooked himself, then using his stick again, he probed the area, praying he wouldn’t discover another crevasse.

“Jolie!” David scrabbled to her side, pressed two fingers to her carotid, and visually probed the rest of her for injuries. Nothing bent at an unnatural angle. No blood. Her pulse was there but rapid.

“Jolie,” he said, smoothing his hands over her limbs, assessing more firmly whether she had broken bones.

She moaned.

“Jolie, c’mon. I need you to wake up.”

Yes, definitely needed her awake. Eyes open. Fighting back. Anything to reassure him he wouldn’t have to attend another funeral.

“Hey.” He patted her cheeks.

Her eyes fluttered open, squinted, then locked on him. “Oh no.”

“Is that any—”

A demonic growl erupted—right along with her vomit. It struck his overpants, his boots, and jacket. Splatted his face.

David pushed back onto his haunches. “You have
got
to be kidding me!” His stomach roiled at the stench. He pressed the back of his hand to his nose and groaned as he stood, staring at the mess on his clothes. “Unbelievable. Of all the …”

“I’m sorry.” Looking miserable, Jolie bent in half, gloved fingers digging into the snow, sniffling. She peeked up at him, whispering another apology. Face blanched, lips not their sultry pink—

David gritted his teeth. He grabbed a handful of snow and rubbed off as much of the mess as he could. “Are you hurt?”

Surprise skated off her blanched face as she considered him, slowly shook her head, then pressed her fingers to her forehead. “No … I—I don’t think so.” Her weak, defeated voice depleted what little was left of his irritation.

With a huff, he dropped to his knees. “You’re pale. Let me check you over before we prusik back up.”

After an almost imperceptible nod, Jolie lowered herself to the crevasse floor and closed her eyes. David gently touched her side, probing for internal injuries. “Let me know if something hurts.”

She let out a sigh and draped an arm over her eyes.

“It was stupid to leave your team.” He smoothed his hands over her right leg, then the other, working his way up her left side till he positioned his fingers against her carotid again. Rapid, consistent pulse. “Rope up, stay with them—you wouldn’t have fallen.”

Her arm dropped away and she glowered.

He waited for her snarky comment, her witty comeback. Instead, she swallowed and shook her head quickly, as if warding off something.

“Your guide said you weren’t feeling well.” He crouched and ducked his head to look into her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she said, her words thick with exhaustion as she hauled herself upright. “Can we get going?”

“First things first. I need to know what condition you’re in. Dizziness?”

She shook her head.

“Nosebleeds, drowsiness, shortness of breath, pins and needles?”

“Weak and sick.” As if that should sum it all up. “And my head hurts.”

“Probably hit it when you tried to do an aerial and ended up down here.” He meant it to be funny, but something weighted her features. She wasn’t talking back or fighting. And that worried him. “Jolie.” He touched her cheek, drawing her gaze back to his. “Why’d you leave your team?”

Something skittered through her expression but vanished as fast as it came. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Dizziness?”

“No, everything is blurry.” She dropped her hands against her lap and squinted up at him. “Do you have anything to eat?”

“You’re hungry?”

She shrugged.

“Guess since you emptied your stomach all over me …” But it was weird. People with AMS usually had a
loss
of appetite. He retrieved a protein bar from his pack and her water bottle from hers then returned and crouched in front of her. David held them out. “Eat up.” He wasn’t sure she could make it. “We have a lot of area to cover.”

She studied him then took the proffered items. He hadn’t seen AMS or HACE like this. She seemed to have a severe case and yet, not. The headache was weird. Dizziness, yes. But the increase in appetite, the shaking fingers …

David readied the harness and prusiks, trying not to pay too much attention to Jolie, to her sluggish movements as she rinsed her mouth and tore open the bar. “Drink,” he ordered as he roped up. “Stay hydrated.”

She glared at him. Then her gaze rose to the height of the crevasse. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” Jolie lumbered to her feet. “I’m sick. And tired.”

“And what, staying down here to freeze to death or wait for a snowdrift or avalanche to bury us is a better option?” He smirked, trying to rouse her from the stupor that had fogged in her strong spirit. “Sorry.” He cocked his head as he hooked the rope into the carabiner. “I like my toes nice and pink, not black with frostbite. Speaking of …”

He shifted a couple of feet and lifted her hand.

“What’re you doing?” she asked, surprise coloring her words.

He tugged off her thick glove, then the insulator. Warm in his hands, her fingers showed only the slightest tinge of the frigid temperatures. He stuffed her glove into his mouth as he removed the other and checked her digits one by one.

“How … how’d you find me so fast?”

The vulnerability in her question drew his gaze up, surprised to see the pale face filled with rosiness … and yet still pale. What was this?

Insanity, that’s what. Why was his mind even trying to go
there
? She was a Decoteau. A rich girl. He’d vowed to never deal with her or her family again.

He stuffed her hands into her gloves. “I’m a mountaineering ranger. I know where to look for
trouble.
“

Instead of striking back with one of her lightning-fast comebacks, Jolie just dropped her gaze and drew on the gloves. “I didn’t …”

Standing over her, he couldn’t tear his gaze from the soft lines of her cheekbones, the straight nose, the delicate eyebrows. Even sick and roughed up by Denali, she had a beauty that any guy with eyes couldn’t miss.

She looked up at him, her lips parted as if to say something, then she stilled.

Then at once all the indicators registered: her quickened pulse when he touched her, her red cheeks. As if she climbed a mountain. But she hadn’t. She’d fallen off one, sort of.

Blushing?
His gaze rose to hers. She didn’t falter but seemed to shrink.

The headache, the blurry vision, the nausea were all swept away by the brown eyes boring into her soul. Jolie willed herself to step away, to slap him with some snarky comment, but she stood spellbound. How long had she hoped David Whiteeagle would look at her like this?

No doubt he saw the crimson in her cheeks. She could certainly feel it, even around the fever and nausea. Her heart sped. Had he finally figured out she had a crush on him?

Okay, that sounded entirely too middle school. No, she admired David. Not only was he handsome and commanding, but he was smart and loyal. Mariah had bragged about David’s 4.0 and his college scholarship.

The way he looked at her lips, then her eyes, sent a buzzing through her head and down her chest, straight into her heart, which rapid-fired. “What?”

He swallowed. Blinked. Looked at the rope. Went to work looping it and attaching it to a carabiner. “You feeling strong enough to prusik?”

Jolie peeked up at the ledge twenty feet above them. “I … I guess.” She could barely stand and he wanted her to haul herself up that? But what were her options? Stay down here or get up there. She finished the last of the protein bar, wishing there was more—like ten more.

“You’re sick and weak.”

Something about the way he said that ignited a fire in her. “I’m
not
weak.”

He scowled. Why did he always have to scowl? “It’s not an insult. Your body is down with mountain sickness. It can depress your ability to function.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Is that better?”

Jolie lowered her head and swallowed, feeling stupid.

“This climb won’t be easy.”

“Can we get on with this?”

He snapped back to harness rigging, and Jolie couldn’t help but notice his muscles. Grizzly in more than his attitude, apparently. Standing beside her five-ten height, he was several inches taller, and broad. Very broad.

He stuffed his foot in the prusik. “I’ll go first so I can help belay for you.”

Jolie grabbed his arm. “No.” Her head pounded with the fear of being alone, of being where whoever had meant to kill her could finish the job. “Please—don’t leave me.”

David frowned. “Jolie, it’s not like I’m leaving you. It’s logistics.”

“You don’t understand—”

Another frown, this one deeper.

“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this. I know you think I’m weak and silly—”

“Jolie.”

“And that I’m a spoiled rich girl, who tries to buy her way and everything—”

“Jolie.” He released the rope and turned to her, still hooked in, as he cupped her face, silencing her torrent of words.

Tears burned her eyes.

Her pulse whooshed in her ears. Even though he wore gloves and she couldn’t feel his touch against her cold cheeks, he was here. Close. Staring into her eyes and turning her spine to jelly, her belly to a pit of molten lava.

She gripped his arm. “I’m not that girl. I can do this.”

“Jolie—”

“My dad believed in me. He said—”

“Jolie, stop. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Something’s wrong—”

He pressed his lips to hers.

The moment froze but Jolie ignited. The icy edges of her heart melted, warming beneath the strength of David, of his capable touch, and his woodsy-outdoorsman smell and charm. She lifted her arm to wrap around his neck, elated at her teen fantasy coming to life, and melted into him as she kissed him back.

David broke off like an arctic wind. With wide eyes, he stepped back. Swallowed. Cleared his throat. “Okay.”

Okay?
Okay?!?
He’d kissed her and that was all he could say?

“Now that you’re not talking …” Though sarcasm tinged his words, something about his comment fell short of its mark. In fact, he looked shaken. “I’m going up.”

Horror washed through her. “You kissed me to shut me up.” The kiss that had shot through her like a bolt of lightning.

Not looking at her, David grabbed the rope. “I’ll lower the rope for you. Hook in and I’ll belay.” He hesitated then hauled himself up with those powerful muscles and that thick head.

She could kill him. Kill him and never regret it.

She watched him ascend. Two feet. Three …

He was really going to leave her. Right down here. What if he got to the top and decided to do that and head to Base Camp? Probably would—just for that kiss. She’d reacted too strongly. He’d think she was
that
kind of girl.

But his leaving her would make it very easy for whoever wanted her dead. They could make it look like a very convincing accident.

She should tell David. Tell him why she left the team. But he wouldn’t believe her. Especially now that she’d thrown up all over him, gone hysterical on him, then kissed him like the stupid, spoiled rich girl he thought her to be.

Four feet. He made it look effortless. “Your ears are too small for your head.”

David huffed. Belayed. “Your mouth is too big.”

Smart aleck. “You should know—you kissed me.”

Crackk!

In a surreal, nothing-could-prepare-you-for-this-nightmare sort of way, Jolie saw a clump of snow dropping toward them. Below it … David tumbled. “Augh!” He flipped, the harness no longer taut against his weight, and dropped hard.

D
avid!” Jolie darted to him as he rolled onto his side and groaned, cradling his shoulder. Kneeling, she helped him as he climbed to his knees. “Are you okay?”

He held up a hand, his face a mixture of pain and pride. “Stay back. I don’t want you to throw up on me again.”

Arrogant, prideful grizzly bear. “Are. You. Hurt?”

He rotated his arm and growled. “A little. But I can make it.”

“No. You can’t.”

His face lit with indignation.

Before he could mouth off again, she pointed to the top of the crevasse. “The anchor’s gone.”

His gaze shot upward, then to the rope in a heap a dozen feet away. Defeat pushed him to the ground. David roughed a hand over his face then climbed to his feet. He trudged away.