Up Close and Dangerous (Page 25)

Resting beside Justice and warming herself while she warmed him had helped, but the least bit of exertion now seemed to bring an onslaught of dizziness, which wasn’t good considering the steepness of the slope she was having to negotiate. The smallest misstep or stumble could send her tumbling down the mountain, and in this rugged terrain that would almost guarantee a broken leg or arm, at the least. The only bright spot she could see was that while her headache was nonstop, it didn’t seem to be intensifying. Some bright spot; it wasn’t exactly giving her hope.

Both of their lives depended on her, so she’d have to be extremely cautious. Caution took time, though, and time was almost as limited as her strength. The temperature, which she doubted had been above thirty degrees all day, would plummet like a rock even before the sun completely set. As soon as the sun slipped below the summit of the mountains looming over them, and that could happen a couple of hours before sunset, the temperature would begin falling. She had to have water for them before then, and she had to have at least a rudimentary shelter rigged.

Seizing the empty mouthwash bottle, she crouched and began packing snow into the bottle’s narrow mouth. The process wasn’t a fast one, precisely because the mouth was so narrow. Her hands were cold even before she began; within a minute, the pain in her fingers was agonizing. She had to stop and tuck her hands in her armpits, closing her eyes and rocking back and forth as the pain slowly ebbed and warmth seeped into her flesh. She needed something to cover her hands, and she needed it fast.

Automatically she began running through her options. She had brought two pairs of waterproof gloves for handling oars, but they had no fingertips, so while they’d be good for preventing blisters they wouldn’t help keep her fingers warm. She could put socks on her hands as makeshift mittens, but they would be clumsy and they’d get wet, which would make her fingers even colder. The socks would come in handy later.

Forget gloves; she needed a fairly efficient method of getting snow into the bottle that didn’t involve getting her hands in it. What could she use as a makeshift rake, or a scoop?

Leaving the bottle lying in the snow—it wasn’t as if the snow already inside would melt and pour out—she moved over to the trash bags that now contained the remainder of her clothing and supplies, sat down on one bag, and began methodically removing from the others everything that wasn’t clothing. She considered each item, trying to think of a use other than its intended one.

Her stick deodorant was pretty useless for anything other than keeping her underarms from getting smelly. She supposed if she needed anything waxy the deodorant would do, but right now no possible reason for that sprang to mind. Hairbrush, basic makeup—mascara, sunscreen, lip gloss—the books and magazines she’d brought to read could be used in a variety of ways, but none of those ways would help her get snow into a mouthwash bottle. She had her book light—again, handy to have, but not right now. She had a couple of pens, a small notebook, a roll of duct tape that she set aside because she’d definitely need it when working on their shelter, a deck of cards, insect repellent, a poncho that she also set aside, tissues and tush wipes—also set aside—as well as four microfiber towels and a bunch of the little sponge disposable toothbrushes.

Damn it, she thought fretfully. Why hadn’t she packed something useful, like a box of matches? Her teeth might be clean and her mouth fresh when her frozen body was found, but what good was that?

She looked over the motley collection of things she’d thought would be good to have on a two-week rafting trip, sighed in disappointment…then looked again at the deck of cards. They were brand-new cards; the box was still sealed in plastic. She picked up the cards, caught an edge of the plastic with her teeth, and began tearing it open. Then she opened the box and took out a card. It was plastic coated, so it would stand up to a lot of use.

Good enough, she thought with a little ping of satisfaction.

The card was just stiff enough, and just limber enough, that she could roll it into a slight scoop and push snow into the bottle mouth. By shaking the bottle and tapping the bottom hard against a rock she made the snow pack down, so she could get more into it. When the bottle was full of snow, she put the lid back on and screwed it down tight.

“This isn’t going to feel good,” she warned as she carefully made her way back to Justice. He’d been lying there with his eyes closed while she dealt with the water situation, and he slowly opened them when she spoke. His face was pale, which wasn’t surprising, but the corners of his mouth kicked up in a wry smile.

“So what else is new?”

She showed him the bottle of snow. “It won’t be much water when it melts, but this is the best I can do. The trick is to get the snow to melt. I have to put the bottle somewhere warm, and guess where that is?”

“I’m betting it isn’t going under your shirt.” The smile took a sardonic twist.

“That would be a safe bet.” She ignored his reference to the way she’d warmed his feet. The fact that he’d felt her bare breasts didn’t embarrass her, but on the other hand she wasn’t exactly comfortable with this abrupt sea change in their relationship, if cold unfriendliness could be called a relationship. Now they were suddenly best friends, just because they’d survived a plane crash together? She didn’t think so. On the other other hand, hostility had no place between them now; they still needed each other in order to survive. And if there was a third other hand, well, after seeing his herculean effort to control the crash and make it survivable, her foremost feelings for him were respect and admiration. Let’s face it: he was her hero.