No Safe Haven (17 page)

Cole pulled the sled up behind him and collapsed to his knees. "Way to go, Andie. Way to go."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ANDIE

April 11

Sultana, Denali National Park

1:32 a.m.

Thud . . . crunch. Grunt . . . thud.

My head shot up at sounds coming from outside.

Cole? No other sound came.

I sighed. I guess it was just the wind.

But the creepy sense that someone waited on the other side of the packs haunted me. I left my pile of thirteen duct tape wallets, crawled over to Mom and her bag, and pulled out our Maglite.

Turning the lantern to its dimmest setting, I held my breath. What if it's not Cole? He would call out if it were him.
God, what do I do? Please protect us.
Let this just be my imagination.

Something bumped into the packs, making one slide off its perch. I stared at the hole, but all I could hear was the wind, all I could see was darkness.

It's just the wind. Just the wind. Just the wind.

After a few moments, I crawled over to the fallen pack and placed it back where it came from. I crawled away.

It slid back to the ground. Then another one fell. The packs disappeared and all I could do was sit there, unable to move.

What if it was one of the guys trying to kill us? Did my duct tape flag alert them to where we were?

The outline of someone's figure appeared in the entryway, huffing and puffing. My imagination went into overdrive.
It can't be Cole. He'd tell me if he were here, right?

My heart pounded in my chest as I lunged forward, pushing the creeper back outside. As our bodies collided, the stranger grunted, and I bounced backward.

As soon I hit the ground I grabbed the Maglite. My head throbbed, but I lifted the huge flashlight to strike. My arm felt like lead as I let it fall to hammer the intruder.

"Andie!" The stranger gripped my arm and stopped the flashlight mere inches away from his head.

Tears flowed from my eyes and ran down my cheeks.

Cole?

Had he not seen my blow coming, I would have cracked his head open. Maybe even killed him. My body started to tremble. The wind whistled as it blew through the opening, causing my bare face to freeze as the tears fell.

"Cole." I could feel my eyes widening and my body got weaker by the second.

"Andie, come here." His voice sounded hoarse and he pulled me close. His breaths came in gasps. The journey back up the mountain had taken its toll.

Oh, God, I'm so sorry!
Sobs started to shake my body, I was cold, tired, in total misery.

"Shh . . . It's okay, Squirt, I'm here." Cole stroked my hair as I cried, clinging to his huge frame.

"Cole, I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was you. I'm so scared, I didn't know what to do!" The tears turned into sniffs as I snuggled closer to him. I didn't want to let him go. I couldn't.

"Andie, you're fine. I'm here now. We need to put the packs back."

I nodded.
Pull yourself together, Andie.

Cole pointed at Mom. "How's she been?"

"Uh"— I sniffed and wiped my nose—"okay . . . I think."

"Well. That's better than nothing." He paused and stared at me.

I blinked and cocked my head.

"You've got ice all over your cheeks." He chuckled and wiped at them.

I puffed them out to emphasize the cold fact.

"You're a goofball."

"Hey! Only a true goofball can make thirteen duct tape wallets, a duct tape flag, and two duct tape checkerboards—
including
pieces—in only a few hours."

"Seriously?"

"Well, I had to do something to occupy my time while you were gone. After I took care of Mom, I still had a lot of time on my hands. She's been sleeping the whole time." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "So I put my hands to work creating something, then I'd go check her temp and try to cool her down. If you hadn't come back, I don't know—"

"And you built the snow cave?" he interrupted. "All by yourself? You didn't overheat?"

"Yep, yep, and nope. I took off my coat and rubbed snow on my neck to keep cool. It kept my mind off worrying about Mom—knowing I could help protect her. Although, it's not as pretty as the one you made. The walls aren't as smooth, and the tunnels aren't straight and— "

"Andie." He smiled. "It's wonderful, Einstein. I'm proud."

Tears fell down my cheeks
again.
Then I punched his shoulder. "You should be. It's not easy, I can tell you that much!"

"I know." He stretched his back and looked around at my piles of creations. "What's with all the duct tape?"

"Oh, we always have it with us. Duct tape and peanut butter, the two necessities of life." I smiled.

"I see. And how's your ankle?

Uh . . .
Better to keep the subject off my ankle.
He doesn't need more to worry about. It doesn't hurt anymore, so that must mean it's better, right?

"It's kinda funny 'cause when Mom and Dad went on their first date, he wore a pink shirt and red tie. Mom teased him about it, saying he shouldn't wear pink and red together. So every year since then, on Valentine's Day, he would wear the same conglomeration. So that's why the flag is pink and red. Plus you can see it well against the snow."

Cole laughed. "And your ankle?"

"It's fine."

It wasn't a lie. Well, not really. Okay, it was. But he had more important things to worry about.

Like Mom.

And getting us off the mountain.

And keeping the bad guys away.

ANDIE

1:46 a.m.

A small tingling feeling raced up my back. I pulled off one of my layers and sighed.
If only Dasha were here.

Cole's eyes met mine.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Cole still showed concern but he dropped the subject.

"I do miss Dasha."

"Remind me who Dasha is."

"My
li'uudzi
and
lggeyi
husky
łic'ae.
" I giggled.
See if you can figure that one out!

Cole's brow furrowed. "Your what?"

"My black-and-white husky dog."

"Oh, right." Cole nodded. "And why did she all of a sudden come to mind?"

"Well . . ." I sighed. "Dasha's special. It's almost like she can sense when I'm getting too hot or cold."

"Are you hot?"

"I'm fine."

Was he still worried? Even though he was a man—an army man at that—he seemed to worry about me a lot. "Anyway, she's really smart. One time we were playing outside and I started to get hot but didn't know, so Dasha pulled me down and ran to grab my water bottle. Once she was sure I was drinking she ran inside to get Mom. It was really close. I almost had to go to the hospital."

"Wow."

"Yep. We also started training her with hand signals. She's really good at it." Why was I blabbering so much?
Must be from the lack of company.
I smiled on the inside.
Or, in other words, lack of interesting company.

"What kind of hand signals?"

"Well, I can tell her to get the newspaper, to roll over, shake hands, speak, jump up, spin in a circle, grab my favorite stuffed animal, lick somebody, etc." My mind started to fog and things started to spin.
Uh oh.

"Cool."

If I told him I was hot, he'd worry. If I didn't, I would pass out and he would be even more worried. Harsh. "Uh, Cole?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe I am getting a little too hot."

Cole spun around to face me. He yanked off my jacket.

Everything went black.

———

My eyes slid open and slowly focused. "Oh . . . hi."

Cole sat at my side hovering above me. "Hey. I'm glad you're okay, Squirt."

"Yep." I sat up, making sure I wasn't still hot. "I'm fit as a fiddle."

"You sure you're not hot?"

"I'm pretty cold now."

"Leave your jacket off for a few minutes just to make sure."

"Okay . . ." I watched as he hesitated then turned back to the small camp stove thing. He kept looking back over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes. "Cole, I'm fine. Stop worrying so much."
Men.
I sighed.
Maybe I should have told him sooner.
I nodded. That must be it.

Just so long as he didn't tell Mom, we would be good. In her condition she couldn't handle having to take care of me on top of having enough strength to take care of herself.

And
Cole. Couldn't forget the huge, lovable, worried Cole. He was part of the mountain climbing circus too.

Oh, brother.
I was in the company of an injured mother who needed to take care of herself instead of others and an obnoxiously large and mysteriously weird army man. Of course I was going insane.

It was only natural under the circumstances.

JENNA

April 11

Sultana, Denali National Park

3:56 a.m.

The quiet surrounded her like the cozy sleeping bag that held her. Jenna blinked, then pulled herself from the sleep that wanted to pull her back. Her leg was like a portable heater inside the bag. And the throbbing pain in it pounded out a steady rhythm that radiated all the way up to her head.

Good. Maybe it would keep her awake enough to talk to Cole. There was so much to tell him. Her leg must be infected. The pain, the heat . . . clear signs. Antibiotic cream could only go so far, and with the elevation . . . well, she knew the statistics. Injuries couldn't heal up here. They only got worse.

How long would she survive? And how long would she have clarity of mind to be able to explain things to him? She let out a huge sigh. Someone had to take care of Andie.

A rustling close by sounded like someone rolling over. Jenna turned her head and found Cole watching her.

"Jenna?" Cole whispered. "You awake?"

She nodded.

Cole worked his way out of his sleeping bag and brought her some water. "Here. Drink."

Water was an amazing thing. As it slid down her throat, she felt like new life was breathed inside her body. It soothed. It quenched. It cooled. "Thank you."

Inches away from her own, his face conveyed a tenderness she didn't think she'd see from this hard military man. He lay down next to her, propped up on an elbow. "How're you feeling?"

"Warm."

He reached a hand to her forehead and touched her skin lightly, then frowned. He scooted closer and helped her unzip the sleeping bag. "Let's get you uncovered, and see if we can cool you down."

"Okay. But Cole?"

"Yeah?" He continued working, not looking at her.

"I have a lot I need to tell you."

His gaze jerked back to hers. Uncertainty, fear, and a little distrust flashed across his features. Anger sparked—then died as quick as it started. Who was she kidding? She'd given him every reason not to trust her, just by being unwilling to trust
him.
On top of that, she questioned him constantly, demanding to be in control all the time. He may never understand, but it was high time she did some explaining.

What if the fever worsened? What if she became delirious? She may not get another chance. "Cole, I really need to talk to you. While my thoughts are still straight."

"Okay." He slid back into position with his head propped up on his hand. "Talk. As long as you keep drinking."

Someone was taking care of her for a change. Bossing her around. The thought brought a small smile to her lips. "First, I want to thank you. For everything."

Cole started to shake his head.

"Nope. Don't interrupt, and don't shake your head." She gave a feeble laugh. "Second, I want to apologize for making life difficult for you the past few days."

He let out a chuckle, but quickly covered it with a straight face. "Sorry."

"Smart aleck. Anyway, I've always had to be in control where Andie is concerned, and after Marc died, well . . . let's just say, it was my way of dealing with things."

"Okay." Those deep brown eyes searched her face, and the connection between them was palpable. He listened with intent now, not just with his ears.

"Andie has always had special needs. But we wanted her to have the most normal life she could. Wait, let me back up. She has a rare nerve disorder. Did you know that?"

Cole nodded. "She told me a little about it. But I probably don't fully understand it."

Jenna leaned her head back and stared at the snow cave ceiling. "Can you help prop me up? I want to be able to drink and talk. This is going to take a while."

"Sure." He rolled up his bulky coat and positioned it under her head. "You probably need to drink some more anyway. We need to get some Tylenol in you as well. Might help bring the fever down."

Rolling over to her side, Jenna lifted her head and sipped. Laying her head back down on the coat, she looked at Cole. "No. No Tylenol yet. The pain will keep me awake and alert for now."

He looked as though he was going to argue, then he nodded.

"Andie was diagnosed at eighteen months. She was a tough cookie, but most Alaska natives are. When the doctor came in to explain the problem to us, I wanted to know how to fix it. But there wasn't a way to slap a Band-Aid on it and make it heal."

He nodded again, his eyes begging her to continue.

"What she has is called HSAN—"

"Hereditary Sensory Autonomic Neuropathy."

Jenna stared at him, mouth open. Cole just grinned. "Andie told me."

"So did she explain it?"

He nodded. "But go ahead. You may give me more info than she did."

"Andie doesn't feel pain until it's twenty to thirty times the intensity you or I would feel. The nerves don't signal the brain because they're missing fibers. She also can't regulate her own body temperature, and that's why overheating can kill her. The nerves can't get the message to the brain that she's too hot, so she doesn't sweat."

Cole held up a hand. "Okay, so let me ask a question."

"Go ahead."

"She's never sweat? Never?"

"No."

"Wow."

"Yeah. They told me if she ever got hot enough to sweat, using their twenty to thirty multiplication scenario, she would be dead. It was crazy, we had to control the temperature everywhere we went. You'd think in Alaska it would be easy, but it wasn't. Most places had their heat too high in the cold months, so we'd have to drag her out into the subzero temperatures to cool her off. Going to friends' houses became an impossibility. Traveling even more difficult. So we bought our own plane, and Marc flew us everywhere we needed to go."