31
The sudden release of the weight on the rope had Gunnar stumbling backward. His heart flew into his throat, stifling his anguished scream. A splash shattered in his brain, jolting him from his shock. He had to get to Julie. There wasn’t life without her.
“Gunnar, I’m slipping.” Julie’s muffled cry for help penetrated his grief-soaked mind.
“Get up, dogs. Let’s go.” He forced the command through a throat that didn’t want to work, adjusting his grip on the rope and running with the dogs.
He turned at the frantic yips behind him, encouraging the dogs to keep going. Julie’s wheel dogs clambered over the edge. Gunnar dashed around them, dropping to his knees at the edge of the crevasse just as Julie’s hands slipped from the rope.
He grabbed her coat with one hand and the rope with the other as it raced past him. Roaring as fiery pain tore through his arms, he let the momentum of the dogs running pull Julie over the icy lip. Only when she was completely over the edge and the dogs had dragged them several feet did he let go of the rope, calling for the dogs to stop.
He scrambled to her, a sob ripping from him. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m okay.” Her weak smile and pale lips tightened his ribs. “I––”
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her body went limp. Ripping off his gloves, he cupped her cheeks as he searched for a pulse. When it thumped steady and hard against his fingers, he forced himself to calm down and assess the situation.
He pushed back her hood, sucking a breath through his teeth at the large gash and bump forming just above her temple. Okay. They could deal with that. He couldn’t do anything out here exposed to the elements. He needed to get them a shelter.
Yanking her mittens peeking out from her pockets, he gently slid her mangled hands in them to keep them as warm as possible. He then scooped her up into his arms and picked his way off the pressure ridge. Thank God, Julie had trained her dogs so well. They waited at the bottom of the ridge next to his.
He set her down next to his sled and quickly adjusted the supplies so she had a place to ride. When he had her settled and her dogs hooked into his gangline, he hollered for them to go. He’d picked a place to camp while he’d been waiting for her to traverse the ridge. He just needed to get there and make camp faster than he ever had before. A sharp wind hit him in the face, taunting him.
Please, just let me get her safe.
An hour and a half later, Gunnar blinked away the sting in his eyes as he bandaged up Julie’s hand. The wind and snow pelted the side of the tent like it had the last hour, but he didn’t care. He’d almost lost her. Her hands were shredded and swollen. She had a welt on her forehead the size of a boulder and bruises blackened her back.
“I’m fine.” Julie sounded dead tired.
Dead. He shuddered at his thought.
“Hey.” She touched her fingertips to his cheek, and he closed his eyes. “I’ll take a few cuts and a bang on the head. We worked together, figured it out, and made it through.”
She trailed her fingers over his beard, making him long to press against her touch. That would only hurt her more. He cupped her hand and softly kissed the tips of her fingers. It was the only part of her hands still exposed after his doctoring.
He gently lifted her other hand to his lips and repeated kissing each tip. What if he couldn’t keep her safe? What if the next time they didn’t make it through? He couldn’t lose her. Would rather be buried alive in an icy tomb than live life without her.
Placing his lips on her wrist, he lingered there, inhaling the smell of snow still clinging to her. She shivered and sighed, her head tipping slightly to the side. He smiled against her soft skin.
What other noises of contentment could he pull from her? He massaged her arm through her sweater, working his way to her shoulder. With each move up, he kissed the area he’d just left. Her eyes drooped closed, and her head fell back, exposing the pale skin of her neck. His gaze zeroed in on her pulse bumping there.
“I’ve been thinking.” Julie’s voice was languid and low, like she had to work hard to form words.
He hummed an acknowledgment. He didn’t want to think—wanted to push all thoughts bombarding him with fear away. Reaching the top of her shoulder, he nibbled the skin along her collar. Her breath hitched, making his heart race.
“We should still go on, hook the dogs to your sled and make a run for the Pole.” She leaned her head as she spoke, giving him better access.
“Jules.” He practically growled against her neck, not liking where this conversation was heading. He’d barely gotten his pulse back to normal after her almost death, and she wanted to talk about continuing this Expedition of Doom?
“Think about it.”
“No thinking. Not now.” He breathed against the spot she loved, thrilled when she let out a low moan.
Her skin felt like velvet against his chapped lips as he made a trail along her jawline to her mouth.
“Gunnar.”
His name was more air than solid sound. He’d never tire of hearing her say it. He hovered over her mouth, her shuddering breath against his lips. He shifted and worked his kisses along the opposite jawline.