Shelter From The Storm. Patricia DavidsЧитать онлайн книгу.
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?”
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.