For a moment, he felt the pull of belonging. Something powerful and intimate had happened to them, that would leave them never again the same.
Then he snapped back to reality, to who he really was—and what was possible for a man like him.
However much he understood her terror, shared the sense of narrow escape from an unbearable loss, Mitch also knew that the sharing was only temporary.
He was, as he had been, on the outside looking in. No matter how precious the child had felt, clinging to him, no matter how his heart had reached out when Perrie had drawn them both close—he was temporary. A port of call on a journey that would carry them away. Perrie and Davey would always share the bond that, for a few brief moments, he had been privileged to touch.
They would forever be together.
And he would forever be alone.
If the thought ripped into his too-open heart, Mitch still accepted what must be. He rose quickly and gathered up his gear, itching to get away, to be by himself.
“We’d better get back.” Too curt, but he couldn’t afford softness now.
Perrie flinched from his tone. Rising to her knees, she held onto Davey, who had settled into exhaustion against her.
“Here, let me carry him,” Mitch offered, reaching out.
She pulled back and shook her head, climbing shakily to her feet.
He put out a hand and steadied her, then stood carefully back. “If you get tired, let me know.” He picked up his gear and started off.
Perrie’s legs felt like spaghetti, but she clung tightly to Davey and concentrated on the ground in front of her.
When she tripped again, Mitch plucked Davey from her arms. “Don’t be foolish. You don’t have anything to prove. You’re out on your feet.”
She wanted to protest, but it was all she could do to keep walking. In the adrenaline’s wake, she was a rag doll whose stuffing had vanished.
“Come here.” Mitch pulled her into his side. She resisted only because he was already loaded down with Davey and his gear. She should be able to walk back by herself, but she wanted nothing more than to crawl into his arms right beside her son.
Thinking about what could have happened still had the power to unnerve her completely. If Mitch hadn’t come after them…if he hadn’t been there at all…
Perrie shuddered and grabbed onto Mitch’s waist, squeezing her eyes shut. When his arm tightened around her shoulder, she wanted to weep in relief.
But she couldn’t. She had to keep a lid on her own emotions so that Davey wouldn’t be traumatized by her terror. Had to calmly check her son over, once she could remove his clothes. Had to feed him and get him into bed.
But all she could see when she closed her eyes was that ledge and the horrible drop just inches away from him.
Her fingers squeezed convulsively into Mitch’s side.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s over.”
But it wasn’t. This experience had just brought home how impossible it would be for her to stay here with Davey, even if Mitch were willing to give over the cabin. She’d been a fool to even consider it. She might be able to take care of herself up here through a long winter, but there were too many dangers waiting to snap Davey up in their ravening maws.
She would have to leave, no question now. And soon, before winter trapped them. The thought made her tired.
And sad. Because they would have to leave Mitch behind. No matter how much she knew it would be better for him not to get embroiled in her nightmare with Simon, she couldn’t help feeling the loss already.
Davey would miss him, but he would not be the only one.
“Okay, here we are,” Mitch said.
The cabin was only a few feet away, and a sense of homecoming swept over Perrie. She’d never seen a sight more welcome in her life—except for the sight of Mitch when Davey had been in danger.
She forced herself to straighten and make the steps alone, opening the door for Mitch and his burdens. Once inside, Mitch laid Davey on the sofa, and she busied herself undressing him. Exhausted from his ordeal, Davey barely stirred.
Mitch hovered close, checking his toes and fingers for signs of frostbite. “I think we got him in time.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at him. Dark eyes gone soft as velvet studied her son, then turned to look at her.
She couldn’t breathe. He surrounded her like a fortress, his strength her bulwark, his broad shoulders so close and tempting. She gazed at his mouth, so close to hers, then looked up into eyes turned to smoldering coals.
The moment spun out, trembling with something momentous. Around them, the air crackled with electrifying promise.
Mitch tore his gaze away, releasing her from the spell that had held her motionless.
She turned back to her child, pulling off his shirt, crying out softly. “Oh, Davey…” she whispered, but her child slept on.