Page 73 of Wanting a Family Man
He was only trying to keep this from getting worse. His brain was slipping into crisis mode, running a mile a second as he assessed the damage and planned how they would proceed.
At least Storm had quit crying. She was wiggling and fussy because she wasn’t finished with her nap, though.
“Okay, let’s get you—” Up or down? Both directions were narrow and slippery. The creek bed was closer and it provided fresh water.
How would he get her out of here? It was two hours back to the village when she walked at her normal pace, but she couldn’t seem to walk at all. It would be closer to get her back to the beach, but a longer walk back for him. Then he would have to get a boat around and into that cove.
“Fuck.”
“I didn’t mean to fall,” she said defensively.
“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself.”
She wasn’t used to this. He had pushed her too hard and had upset her by having an entirely too clumsy talk with her.My stepmom knows we’re banging so we can’t do it anymore.How juvenile was that? He should have thought it through before trying to talk about it. He hadn’t known what to say, though. He just kept thinking that if they were hiding it, it must be wrong.
“Let’s get you down to the creek. You can take off your boot and we’ll see what we’re working with.”
Progress was slow. He kept his arm around her as she gave little hops, unable to put any weight on her ankle. The rain continued to steadily soak through the canopy, keeping the ground slippery and the air damp. He could feel her shivering in her wet clothes.
When she finally sat down on a boulder and removed her boot, her ankle was starting to swell and bruise.
Why hadn’t he brought a radio? He was such an arrogant fuck, always certain he could handle anything by himself. Alone.
Storm was still wiggling and cranky, further fraying their nerves as they faced facts.
“You’re not walking out of here.”
“Can’t you make me a crutch or a splint or something?”
“No.” Trystan pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think past the whines of his baby sister, but he already knew exactly what had to happen and it sucked.
The only thing to do was rip the bandage off so he just said it, point blank.
“If it was just you and me, we could take our time limping you out of here. We don’t have enough daylight for that. I’ll haul ass back to the marina, leave Storm with Logan, and get Search and Rescue in here to help me extract you.”
“You’re going to leave me here?” Her normally golden skin was already pallid with shock. Now it was olive gray.
“I’m notleavingyou. I’m going to get help.”
Her eyes sheened with tears. Hurt, frightened,angrytears.
“Go then,” she choked out and fumbled to find her dry socks. “I’ll make my way at my own pace and…”
“Cloe,” he said firmly. “You’ll have to stay right here. Otherwise, I really will need Search and Rescue to find you. I’ll be gone four hours. Tops. I can move a lot faster without you and once she’s off my back, even faster.”
He unhooked the backpack long enough to empty a few more supplies for her, including the propane burner, the extra soup packets, his spare sweatshirt, and the emergency pup tent, which was made of the same shiny mylar as the survival blanket.
“I don’t need all that. I’m not spending the fucking night out here.” She winced as she tried to work her dry sock onto her injured foot.
Storm thought she was coming out of the backpack and was pissed right off when he strapped her back on. Her angry cries echoed through the whole gully.
“Four hours, Cloe.”
“You know what? Don’t even fucking bother. I’ve watched ten thousand hours of your show. I’ve learned all I need from you, especially the part where the only person you can count on is yourself. You do you. I’ll be fine.”
He knew this was as much about their talk on the beach as his leaving her when she was injured, but he felt all those words like the thrown stones they were meant to be. They fucking hurt.
“Four hours. Put that foot in the stream to keep the swelling down. Change into dry clothes and boil any water you plan to drink.”