They tumbled down over snow, Wintra trying to push him away as their bodies became entangled. And then they hit the ice cold water.
Torr got to his feet fast once in the stream, wiping the water from his eyes to look for Wintra. She was a few feet away and he hurried over to her and grabbed her by the arm, hoisting her to her feet. She spit and spurted water, having suffered a worse dunking than he had. And it served to anger her even more.
She struggled against his hold, and his cold, wet hand had trouble keeping hold of her. She slipped out of his grasp and when she did, she turned to run, slipped and went down again. Only this time her head hit a rock, knocking her out cold.
Torr muttered several oaths when he saw that she wasn’t moving, and he was at her side in an instant. The water around her head was turning red and he hurried to turn her over. Blood ran down the side of her face from what looked to be a head wound. He gave it a closer look and saw that the blood came from a gash at the edge of her scalp. It didn’t look too bad, though he couldn’t be sure. What he was sure about was that he had to get her out of the water and out of her wet garments and warm or she’d freeze to death in no time.
He shuddered, an icy cold chill running through him. He was wet as well and could just as likely freeze to death if he didn’t do something soon. He lifted her, his arms already beginning to feel stiff and draped her over the horse, took the reins, and began walking.
The snow blinded his vision. He had to squint to see a few feet in front of him. He sniffed the air, hoping to smell the scent of chimney smoke, but there was nothing. If he hadn’t walked into the broken down lean-to, he would have passed by the cottage.
The lean-to had barely enough room to shelter his horse, but at least it was something. He took his bedroll and flung it over his shoulder, and then lifted Wintra off the horse, hoisting her over his other shoulder and followed the edge of the house to the front door. He pushed at it with his shoulder, since it was partially open and walked in.
The place was empty and had been for some time. There was no one to greet them. No one to help them. No fire to get them warm. He kicked the door shut, placed Wintra on the narrow rope bed with a sparsely stuffed mattress and went to work setting a fire in the cold fireplace. He snapped pieces off already broken furniture, the shards making perfect kindling. Soon, he had a roaring fire going.
He hurried out of his clothes, leaving them at the fire’s edge so that they would dry as quickly as possible. He then went over to Wintra and grabbed the two ends of the bottom of the narrow bed and dragged it in front of the fireplace.
The heat of the fire licked at his cold flesh and he didn’t care if he got scorched, he wanted to get as close as possible, though he knew the warmth was only surface deep. He and Wintra needed deeper warmth.
He reached out and began to undress her.
Chapter Four
It was the bitter cold that managed to snap her out of the darkness. It had seeped so deeply into her that she didn’t think she would ever be warm again. And oh how her head ached. What had happened? Where was she?
It all came flooding back in an instant and the memories flashed through her mind of her failed escape, landing in the cold stream, the struggle with Torr, and the hit to her head.
She suddenly felt hands at her garments. Someone was tugging at them. What was he doing? What did he want? Panic rose and she fought madly to open her eyes and escape the darkness, only to face what?
Fear crept over her like icy fingers pinching her skin and her eyes sprung open. She grabbed the hand before it could touch her again. Her eyes quickly followed the hand up along a naked arm, over a naked chest, to a familiar face. Torr sat completely naked on the bed beside her.
Her panic soared, almost choking her.
Torr yanked his hand free of her pitiful grasp and seeing the fear in her eyes sought to assure her. “We need to get warm. That means getting you out of those wet garments.”
It took Wintra a moment to understand what he was saying. Her hesitation made her realize that her mind was not as sharp as it should be, and she also realized that she was barely able to feel her legs. She knew all too well what could happen if one was caught in the cold too long. It had happened to a traveler who stumbled upon the abbey during a winter storm. Several limbs had turned black and he had eventually died.