Page 26 of Lucky Charm

“Truth, LT.” Carter shook out a second thermal blanket, then stopped to check the first one was spread evenly.

Hunt lowered to the waiting blanket, then Carter helped him maneuver her on top of him and threw the other thermal blanket over them. It tooksome shifting. As soon as she settled, he and Carter removed her shirt and t-shirt. Left in her white lace bra and matching panties, Hunt moved right so he would specifically lay against her on his left side. He used one arm wrapped around her shoulders and one arm on her ass to pull her close. More shifting put him center of the blanket with the two of them tangled like a pretzel. That brought her so close to him that he drew comfort from the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

Strangely, that made him relax. “Wrap us tight, Carter. She’s so fucking cold.” He cradled her against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. Her skin was soft as goose down. The sensation triggered a predictable reaction. He used his hands to stroke her back and arms in a continuous motion. Erection be damned. “Is she unconscious or sleeping?”

Carter took her temperature again. It had dropped more. He lifted her eyelids and checked her eyes. She didn’t budge. “Unconscious.” He took her blood pressure. “Low, dammit,” he muttered.

Doogie brought the water to them and squatted. “Water’s warm. Do we try to give it to her?”

“Yeah, I have a dropper.” Carter searched through his medic bag, pulled out a medium dropper and removed the plastic wrap. He tipped the bottle Doggie held and pushed the tip between her lips, dribbling the warm water in her mouth. Since none dribbled back out, she must have swallowed. They performed the process until most of the heated water was gone.

“She may need an IV, but let’s hold and see.” Carter moved away.

Baxter’s fire took and the small glow was a comfort.

“Get food for the rest of us,” Hunt ordered Doogie. “Set up a way to get our gear dried if possible. Rotate watch. Double up to stay warm and check Baxter to see how he feels. Get some rest.”

“I hear you, LT.” Doogie moved off.

Hunt put his concentration back on the woman in his arms.

She was safe. Now all they could do was wait.

∞∞∞∞∞

Oh, sweet mother of Jesus, she hurt. Pain weaved its way through sinew and nerves, snatching her breath and tearing at tightened muscles. A furnace of heat came at her from her breasts to her belly, warm legs were wrapped around hers. She tried to wiggle, but strong arms had her trapped against the stinging burn. It ached, but it made her want to burrow deeper.

“Hurts,” she struggled to tell whoever held her. Naked skin. Oh God! Who? “Let me go.”

“I can’t, Doc. Me and this sleeping cocoon are all that are warming you.” The gentle whisper caressed her ear.

It took too many long seconds of thrashing for her to realize Hunt held her. It was Hunt’s naked body against her too cold skin. Confusion prevailed,but her brain functioned well enough to realize that if Hunt was tangled with her and naked, then she’d taken a trek on the death side.

She struggled against a panic that had nothing to do with threat and everything to do with shredding pain screeching across her nerve endings. “Hunt?”

“Yeah, honey. I have you.”

She stared at his face and recognized regret in the sheen of his eyes.

“Carter, we need some help here.” Hunt shifted, accommodating her movements. God, he was so warm.

The cave – they were hiding in a cave. It was snowing. There were men trying to kill them, and she’d gotten too cold. The knowledge bolted across her memory. “Are we safe?”

“Yeah, Doc. For the moment.”

“How long?” She tried to lick her lips but there was no moisture.

“Four hours.”

“Shoot,” Doc whispered.

“Hey, Doc. Hurting?” Carter appeared in her peripheral vision.

She shifted her face into Hunt’s neck and nodded. She couldn’t open her mouth without needing to stifle a wail. No way was she bringing on the wrath of the bad guys on these men. Focused breathing, focused breathing … like Lamaze. Not that she ever had done Lamaze.

Carter checked her temperature and adjusted the covers, tightening them against Hunt. “Improving, but still not good enough. I have some muscle relaxers in my kit, and I’m going to start an IV. You’re dehydrated.”

His direct tone was enough to get her focused on the medical side of her problem. He was a good medic, and it humbled her that he understood her dilemma on so many levels and pushed the right mental button for her. “IV – good idea. Hold off on drugs. They’ll make me sleep.”