He cursed and whipped open the back door, making sure Charlie stayed inside. Genuine fear for Hannah propelled him to act fast as he spotted a half-tied rope on the deck banister. There were no footsteps in sight, which didn’t surprise him. Between the pace of the falling snow and the ferocity of the wind, it would be impossible to track someone in this. He secured the rope and ventured down the steps.
Jackson yelled her name over and over again, squinting against the harsh onslaught of snow. Adrenaline coursed through him as he continued to call out for her, his voice hoarse from the strength of his yell. He swung the floodlight in a circular motion, trying to catch a glimpse of motion. The yard immediately behind the house was free from trees, but he knew if she walked more than thirty feet, the forest would start and would be a deadly maze. If she went in there…he forced himself to stop thinking about how unlikely finding her would be as the minutes ticked by.
He circled the flashlight again and paused for a second, thinking he spotted a flash of color. He moved the light slowly, praying for the first time in his memory for help from above. And there it was. Red. Her pom-pom hat. He kept the light focused on the patch of red and moved as quickly as he could through the snow. He called her name over and over again and came in closer, until finally he could see her face. She screamed out his name and tried to move toward him.
It was the sweetest damn sound he ever heard.
He knew at that moment that Hannah Woods meant a hell of a lot more to him than he wanted to admit. The need to protect her overwhelmed and consumed him. He didn’t question it, he didn’t analyze the why. All he knew was that he needed her in his arms. He could tell from how slowly she moved that he’d arrived just in time. He swallowed up the remaining distance between them in a few strides. When she was right in front of him he saw how red her face was and the blue tinge to her lips.
“You okay?” He wrapped his arms around her and felt her hands clutch his coat.
She nodded against his chest, but he wasn’t convinced. “Hold on, sweetheart,” he whispered, the endearment coming naturally, though he’d never said it to anyone before. He leaned down and picked her up. Instead of protesting like he half expected, she just curled her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around him.
He let the rope guide them back to the house and prayed that she didn’t have frostbite. He gently put her down on the porch, his arms grasping hers, making sure she was steady. “Come on,” he said, opening the door and taking her hand to get into the house. He had experience with frostbite and cold weather exposure, but this was different, this was Hannah. Courageous, beautiful, smart Hannah. Standing a few inches from her in the darkened kitchen, she raised her green eyes to his and he was torn between wanting to kiss her and yell at her for taking such a crazy chance outside. But the look in her eyes took his breath away. He knew it wasn’t just him that felt this crazy connection. He knew it in the softness, the complete candor in her eyes. She wasn’t hiding from him anymore.#p#分页标题#e#
…
“What were you thinking?”
In spite of the pain she felt as the warm air pierced her cold body and the shaking consumed her, she heard the tenderness. She saw the worry in his handsome features, noticed the faint tremble in his strong, capable hands, and it warmed her in a way that nothing ever had. When she heard him calling her name through the blizzard she knew that everything was going to be okay. He’d called her sweetheart. No one had ever called her anything so wonderful. She trusted Jackson, and she had never trusted anyone before. But God, it had felt good to lean on someone, to trust someone with her life. Nuzzled in the reassuring strength of his body, she realized that he had put her ahead of his own safety. Jackson was the only person who had ever put her first.
“Emily?”
He nodded. “She’s fine. Sleeping.”
Hannah smiled shakily at Charlie, who sat and watched her. If there was ever a worried companion, it was him.
“You could have died if I hadn’t found you.”
Hannah’s eyes filled with tears, her throat burning. She tried to move, but everything hurt. “I can’t move my fingers yet,” she said, holding her hands out in front of her. He gently reached out and enveloped her fingers in his hands. His touch reached that part of her that she had always wondered about, the part that had been shut off so many years before, the place the therapist told her would be there when the right person came along, if she let it happen. She stared at his fingers intertwined with hers, feeling the heat and the strength that radiated from his hands. Of all the people in the world, how could it be him? The one man she was ready to let in?