Chapter 22
“That is encouraging.”
“Save your wit. You possess too little to waste.”
Getting out from beneath the overhang became an ordeal of inches. Henrietta crawled backward first, teeth clenched against the pain in her knees, then used the rope to help Calvin slide after her while keeping his broken leg as straight as possible. The storm had weakened, but snow still fell thickly, and the world beyond the rocks had been remade into smooth white shapes.
Calvin squinted toward the slope. “The horse was below that pine.”
Henrietta followed his gaze. “There are six pines.”
“The split one.”
“They are all split.”
“The one leaning east.”
“Which way is east?”
Calvin looked at her.
Henrietta spread her hands. “Excellent. We are making progress.”
They began crawling.
For Calvin, every yard was a battle. He pushed with his elbows and good leg while Henrietta supported the fractured one with a loop of rope beneath his calf. When the ground dipped, she moved ahead and pulled. When it rose, she braced behind him and shoved against his hips while he swore into the snow.
After twenty yards, Henrietta’s arms shook.
After forty, her right knee refused to bend properly.
She sat back on her heel, breath tearing at her lungs.
Calvin noticed immediately. “Stop.”
“We are stopped.”
“I mean stop altogether.”
“No.”
“You’re finished.”
“I am resting.”
“You cannot put weight on that knee.”
Henrietta looked down at the offending joint. “Then I shall use the other.”
“That is the most idiotic thing you have said since yesterday.”
“Considering yesterday included our wedding bargain, I doubt that.”
His face changed.
Henrietta regretted the jab again, but there was no time to soothe wounded pride. She looped the rope around her forearms. “Move.”
They crawled another ten yards.
Then a horse whinnied somewhere beyond the whiteness.
Both froze.
Henrietta lifted her head. “Again.”
Nothing.
Calvin cupped his hands around his mouth. “Buck!”
A muffled answering cry came from below.
Relief surged so violently through Henrietta that for a moment she nearly laughed. “He stayed.”
“He likes oats.”
“He has admirable priorities.”
They changed direction toward the sound. The slope grew steeper, forcing Henrietta to slide on her side while holding Calvin’s injured leg clear of buried stones. Snow entered her gloves and sleeves, melting against her skin. By the time the dark shape of Calvin’s horse appeared through the trees, her fingers had become wooden claws.