Chapter 18

18

"Fenn, stay with me," Kate pleaded, her voice trembling as she cradled his head in her lap. The icy wind whipped around them, sending flurries of snow dancing across the barren landscape. Her heart pounding against her ribs.

Okay, so what were the options?

She couldn't stay here, exposed and vulnerable, with Fenn unconscious and injured. The only shelter was the back end of the station. But the thought of their attacker circling back sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the biting cold. Fenn's attacker was probably the lab's squatter.

He'd know what was left of the facility far better than she. Plus, they'd have to camp out down below. No way she could defend Fenn and keep that generator running. All the attacker would have to do was cut the power and she and Fenn would die within hours.

She glanced down at the churned-up snow around them, evidence of the struggle that had taken place. In a perfect world, she'd secure the scene, gather evidence, but time was a luxury she couldn't afford.

Getting Fenn back to Endurance was the priority.

Adrenaline surged through her, setting her nerves on fire. After setting Fenn down gently, she struggled to her feet. With a burst of strength born of desperation, she cleared a spot on the sled behind her snowmobile. The cold seeped through her gloves, numbing her fingers as she worked.

"I've got you," she whispered, her breath clouding the air as she dragged him onto the sled. His body was limp, a dead weight in her arms. The sight of him so still and helpless made her heart constrict painfully.

She wrapped him in their emergency blankets, cocooning him in a layer of warmth and protection, then she strapped him down and climbed onto her machine, and took off. Half-expecting to see Fenn's attacker in pursuit, she glanced over her shoulder, but there was nothing but an endless sea of snow, broken only by the fading tracks of her own machine.

Jaw clenched, she turned her focus to following their tracks back toward the settlement. The lights of town beckoned in the distance, a promise of safety and warmth. She gunned the engine, urging the snowmobile forward, the cold air burning her lungs with each ragged breath.

"Just hold on, Fenn," she murmured, her words snatched away by the wind. "I'll get you help. I won't let you down."

By the time she slid the snowmobile to a stop at the front door of the hotel, Kate was so cold she could barely get herself off the machine. Without checking on Fenn, she raced inside, calling for help.

Eyes wide, Jimbo rounded the corner of the reception desk without a word, pulling on a parka as he followed her outside.

Together, they carried Fenn into the lobby and laid him on the only couch.

She was lifting another prayer when he opened his eyes. His groan of pain washed over her, a soothing balm after the past several hours.

"Don't move," she ordered. "You got bashed in the head. Let me check you out."

Except for the goose-egg on the back of his head, he was blessedly intact. She helped him sit up. "How're you feeling?"

He put a hand to his head. "Like I got hit by a freight train."

"Makes sense." He was pale, for sure, and a little shaky, but oriented to time and place. He probably had a good concussion, but so far, no evidence of a brain bleed.

Now, he needed rest.

"Let's get him upstairs," she directed Jimbo.

Between the two of them, they managed to walk him up the half flight of stairs to his room and into bed.

"You're a tough gal," Jimbo's voice was rich with admiration as he backed away from Fenn's narrow bed. "Anybody else would've ended up dead out there."

Fenn lifted his head with a soft groan. "Roger that."

His weak tone twisted Kate's gut. She'd come so close to getting him killed…

Getting him back to Endurance had been one of the most frightening experiences of her life. Somehow, she'd managed to drag him onto the sled behind her machine and wrap him up in the emergency blankets they'd brought. Securing him on the sled had been the easy part. Spending the entire hour's journey back wondering if he'd be frozen to death before she made it had been…

She gestured to the clerk. "Could you bring us up some hot tea? I don't want to leave him alone."

"Sure thing." The clerk backed out of the room.

She turned back to Fenn, her heart heavy with a crushing sense of guilt. He looked so pale. A wave of self-recrimination washed over her.

Every bit of this was her fault. Her secrets, her past, had put Fenn in danger. And now, here he lay, injured and vulnerable, because of her. The weight of that knowledge settled on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

She reached out, her fingers trembling as she brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. The contact, so simple and yet so intimate, sent a jolt of electricity through her, mingling with the ache of guilt and the ever-present undercurrent of attraction.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "I never meant for you to get hurt. Not because of me."

The words felt inadequate, a mere drop in the ocean of her remorse. She knew that Fenn would brush off her apologies, would insist that he was fine, that it wasn't her fault. But the truth remained, stark and unforgiving.

"Not your circus. Well, sure, yeah. It is your circus, but you didn't ask for it."

All she could do was shrug. Maybe not, but her actions planted the seeds.

Fenn searched her face. "So, what happened out there?"

Kate took a deep breath, the memory of finding him unconscious in the snow still fresh and painful. "I found you on the ground by the snowmobiles, out cold. Someone bashed you in the back of the head."

His lips pressed into a thin line. "That explains the headache." He frowned, his brow furrowing. "Did you see who it was?"

"No. By the time I got there, they were long gone."

They fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation settling over them like a heavy blanket. Kate's mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle.

"Why did they leave me alive?" Fenn asked.

Exactly what she was wondering. She closed her eyes, picturing the swales and footprints in the snow. After the attacker knocked Fenn out, he'd turned him over. Seen his face. Then the attacker had purposefully rolled Fenn back onto his stomach and left him to die.

No way to know for sure, of course, but if she had to bet…

A sudden realization dawned on her. "What if they weren't after you? I'm almost your height. With our arctic gear and face masks, it wouldn't have been hard to mistake you for me."

Fenn's eyes widened, the implications sinking in. "That makes sense."

"We're not going to find them," he said, his voice resigned. "Not in this weather, with no leads."

She fingered the bedspread, stretching the pilled polypro. "I know. But I've got to try. I can't just let them get away with this."

He struggled to sit up, wincing at the effort. "Kate, why are we still here? There are lots of ways out of town. We could come back for the plane later. What aren't you telling me?"

The urge to keep her secrets warred with the need to be honest with Fenn. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the determination in his eyes, the strength of his soul.

She hadn't given Fenn the credit he deserved. Not since they met. Behind the jokes and the laidback aura, the man was lion-hearted. She'd never seen him give up on a situation. He never faded. Never ran.

The thought struck her like a lightning bolt, leaving her breathless. Why hadn't she seen it before?

Because she didn't want to. Seeing the man behind the mask made him terrifically dangerous to her heart.