A Cry In The Night

“It’s so cold,” she said tonelessly. “I wish it wasn’t so damn cold.”

For a moment, Buzz thought she was referring to herself, then realized her own physical comforts were the last thing on her mind. She was worried about Eddie. The night was uncomfortably cold, but it wasn’t harsh enough to cause hypothermia to a child with a jacket. As long as he wasn’t wet.

Because Buzz didn’t know what else to do to comfort her, he dropped his pack and stooped to dig out one of two compact thermal sleeping bags he’d packed. Rising, he handed one to her. “Unzip this and put it around your shoulders.”

She obeyed without objection. Then, huddled within the blanket, she just stood there, staring into the darkness, listening, waiting.

Buzz had been through some intense moments with Kelly. But in all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen her like this. Bleak and filled with despair and utter hopelessness.

At a loss as to what to do next, he looked around and spotted a semi-protected area where they would be out of the wind. Picking up his backpack, he walked over to it and began unpacking. He removed the stove first and lit the wick. The flame cast yellow light on the surrounding trees and nearby outcropping of rock. A few feet away, Kelly sank down on a fallen log and put her face in her hands. She didn’t make a sound, but Buzz saw her shoulders shaking, and he knew she was crying. Jesus, he hated seeing that. He’d seen plenty of women cry over the years. He’d long since grown used to female tears. But to see this strong, stubborn woman reduced to tears tore at him like a sharp-fanged little animal.

“We’ve got to believe he’s going to be all right, Kel. Don’t let your mind get away from you,” he said after a moment.

When she raised her head and looked at him, tears shimmered like wet diamonds on her cheeks. “I ache inside. I’ve never hurt like this before. If something happens to him, I’ll never—”

“Don’t go there, damn it,” he interjected harshly. “Don’t say it. Don’t even think it.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a basket case.”

“Don’t apologize. This isn’t easy. For either of us.”

Rather than upset her, his harsh tone seemed to bolster her control. Rising, she approached him and knelt in front of the stove to warm her hands. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Buzz passed her his backpack. “I brought some protein bars. Get out a couple, so we can eat. Put down the tarp.” He could have very well done those things himself, but he knew Kelly well enough to know that she functioned better if she was busy, no matter how minute the chore.

While she did that, Buzz pulled the first-aid kit from his pack and set it atop a relatively flat rock. “Come here,” he said.

“That’s not—”

“I’m the EMT,” he said. “Let me worry about the first aid, all right?”

She handed him one of the protein bars. “I’m too tired to argue with you.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Keep that blanket around your shoulders and sit down.”

Relief slipped through him when she sat down without an argument. Buzz removed an antiseptic cleansing pad, some antibiotic cream and a large square bandage. “Any headache or blurred vision?” he asked.

“No.”

“Nausea?”

She shook her head.

He cut her a hard look. “The truth, Kelly.”

She sighed. “A little bit of a headache, but it’s only because I’ve been crying.”

He wasn’t sure why it was so hard to look at her. Wasn’t sure if it was her beauty or the grief he saw in the depths of her gaze. But as he knelt in front of her to get a look at the cut on her temple, he found himself barely able to meet her eyes.

“I’m going to check your pupils.” Without giving her time to respond he put his hand gently against her crown, then flashed the light first in her left eye, then in her right. “As far as I can tell, you don’t appear to have a concussion.”

“I could have told you that.”

“Well, after we find Eddie tomorrow, I’m going to personally haul you into Lake County Hospital and make sure you get a CT run.”

Her gaze met his, the play of emotions in her eyes touching him despite his staunch resistance. “Thank you for saying that. I mean, about finding him.”

Realizing it was probably best not to talk to her when he was this close, Buzz disinfected his hands then applied a thin layer of antibiotic cream to the cut. He tried not to notice the sweet scent of her hair that rose up with her body heat into the cold night. He damn well ignored the fact that his heart rate was up, and that it didn’t have anything to do with high altitude or physical exertion—or even a lost little boy.