In the Weeds (Lovelight #2)(48)
“W-walked from the p-pond,” she answers with another rolling shiver as Barney takes off with a rumble, heading towards my cabin. I plant my boot against the floor of the small truck and hold on. The pond is easily half a mile from where we are now and who knows how long it took her walking like this. “My ph-phone was in my po-po-pocket.”
“You said you were taking a break, right? You don’t need it.” I can’t believe she’s thinking about her phone when she can barely string two words together. A hot flare of frustration knocks behind my eyes followed by bone-deep panic.
She’s too damn cold.
“W-w-why I didn’t c-c-call you,” she explains, tilting her head back to narrow her eyes at me. Her hand squeezes my wrist again. “G-grumpy.”
Damn right I’m grumpy. I’m also terrified. Fucking furious with myself.
Barney comes to a screeching halt in front of my cabin and I immediately climb out, my hand protectively cupping Evelyn’s head, her face still tucked in the crook of my neck. Every brush of her ice-cold skin against mine is like a warning drum, beating inside my skull. Get her inside. Get her warm.
“No hot water,” Barney calls, his face lined with worry. “If you get her in the shower or tub, it might warm her up too quick.” He taps once over his chest. Over his heart. “Blankets. Loads of ‘em.”
At my questioning glance, he shrugs. “Fell into the bay in December helping my brother tie up crab pots. When the coastguard fished me out, that’s what they said.” He puts the Gator into gear and eases off the break. “I’m gonna head towards the main office. Let Stella know and get everything sorted. I’ll give Gus a ring and have him come over as soon as he can.” He gives me a stern look. “Take care of our girl.”
Our girl. Another piece of me breaks off, something for Evelyn to hold in the palm of her pretty hand.
He goes rumbling back towards the farm and I take the steps two at a time, bursting through the front door. Evelyn shivers violently against my front, her breath in small puffs against my neck. The cats scramble around my feet as I move down the hallway, heading straight for the fireplace. I set her down carefully on the oversized armchair in front of it, dragging it closer with my hands braced on both sides.
She frowns at me as I back away, stumbling to the stack of firewood on the mantle. I feel like I’m all thumbs, my movements uncoordinated and clumsy. I’ve been lighting fires since I was a kid but It takes me three tries to light the damn match, my hands shaking the whole time. I toss the flame behind the grate and breathe out slowly as it catches and spreads, wood curling at the edges. I see her try to stand up out of the corner of my eye and my teeth clench in an audible snap.
“Sit the fuck down.”
“B-b-ut the couch. I’m all wet.”
“Evie, I swear to god. I don’t give a shit about the couch.” I rip one of the blankets off the other and throw it on the hardwood at her feet, the fire beginning to snap behind me. My gaze drags up her huddled body on the very edge of the armchair, from her waterlogged boots to her dripping sweater.
“Take off your clothes,” I bark, before stomping my way through the cabin to my bedroom.
I wish I could be softer, more comforting, but my body feels pulled tight, everything a second away from collapse. I can’t stop replaying the moment she appeared over the hill, the way her body swayed and then fell out of view. Like a flower wilting on the vine. I can’t stop seeing the way she pulled into herself as I turned her over, hands grasping at nothing.
I ball up the comforter from my bed and stalk towards the living room. Evelyn is standing again, her back to me as she fumbles with her clothes in front of the fireplace. All she’s managed to do is kick off her shoes, her shaking hands attempting to loosen the button on her soaking wet jeans.
She looks at me over her shoulder, a faintly pleading look that evaporates all of my anger and replaces it with a tender ache. “Beck, I c-c-can’t - “
“It’s alright.” I toss the comforter with the other blanket and curl myself around her back, gently moving her hands to her sides. Her wet sweater soaks my shirt as I slip the button of her jeans free, the backs of my knuckles brushing against the soft skin of her stomach as I work at the zipper. I jerk the heavy material over her hips and she makes a small noise, a thin exhale from her nose. Goosebumps appear on her skin as I work the wet jeans down and off her legs.
“Sorry,” I mutter, my hand around the back of her knee as I try to help her step out of them. My thumb traces absently over delicate skin. She’s still so cold.
Something that sounds like a laugh garbles out of her, her hands cupping her elbows and her chin pressed to her chest. “Nothing you h-haven’t seen be-f-fore.”
I clench my jaw. “Doesn’t mean it’s an open invitation,” I tell her, my voice gruff with frustration. I’m too focused on the circles beneath her eyes and the pale blue tint of her lips to notice anything else—the sticky cold that her skin is coated with, her clothes stiff and unyielding. I get back to my feet and lift the hem of her shirt, guiding it over her head. I’m careful not to tangle her hair when her whole body gives a tremendous shake, the shirt thrown to the floor with a heavy plop. I smooth my palms down her sides in a vigorous rub and her whole body shivers.
She’s nothing but thin cotton and bare skin in front of me, her shoulder blades curved like folded wings as she hunches forward. I reach for the comforter and wrap it around her front, hesitating for half a second before grabbing my sweatshirt and pulling it off. I tug at my t-shirt too, leaving my chest and torso bare. Evelyn looks back at me, dark eyes heavy and exhausted.