The Keeping(78)

“Oh my gosh!” She gave a startled cry and instinctively stepped backwards, remembering too late that there was nothing to step back onto. The stomach lurching sensation of falling filled her as she tipped backwards barely having time to utter a cry before her head submerged. Icy coldness wrapped itself around her, her clothing quickly becoming saturated and heavy, tugging her down towards the bottom of the stream. At the last second, she thought to keep her hand up in the air attempting to save the camera from a watery grave.

The soft, silt of the river bottom cradled her body for but a second then something hard grabbed at her arm and hauled her upward. Her head broke the surface and she gasped, coughing and sputtering as her lungs sought to simultaneously inhale oxygen and expel water.

Stunned she found herself set on her feet, hard hands gripping her upper arms. For a moment she simply stood dripping and gaping, too surprised to even push her wet hair from her face. Thankfully, someone else did it for her. Blinking, she realized that she was staring at Ryne. He did not appear happy.

“What the hell were you doing this time?”

“Huh?” Mel registered that he was yelling at her, but she wasn’t quite sure why.

“What kind of an idiot stands in the middle of a swollen stream in the height of run-off season? Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

As she recovered from the shock of what had just happened, her temper began to flare. “Idiot? I’m not an idiot! I was perfectly fine until that wolf—Oh damn!” She looked desperately side to side, trying to locate the beast. “We have to get out of here. There’s a wolf somewhere nearby.” Mel took a step and then froze, unsure of which way to go. The cabin was to the right, but so was the wolf...

“Wolf? What wolf?” Ryne sounded puzzled.

“The wolf that was right over there!” Pointing towards the trees, Mel glanced at Ryne to see if he was looking where she was pointing. He wasn’t. Instead, he was frowning at her.

“Melody, there was no wolf here unless...Did you see Harley? He was out walking with me.” Ryne quirked an eyebrow at her.

“No. It wasn’t Harley; it was a wolf, really. I saw it...” She faltered under his disbelieving gaze. “Well, it looked like a wolf.” She crossed her arm and pouted.

“I suppose, if you were really intent on taking a picture you might make that mistake.” Ryne appeared as if he was about to pat her on the head as if she was a foolish child.

Compressing her lips, Mel sloshed over to the edge of the stream, shivers starting to wrack her body. “Where’s Harley now?”

“He probably ran off when you started to yell. He’s very sensitive you know.”

“Yell? I didn’t yell, at least not that much.” She was now shaking so hard that she could hardly get the words out. Ryne shook his head, pulled off his jacket, and wrapped it around her. “You don’t have to do that.” She protested and tried to hand him back the piece of clothing. “You’re wet too.”

He ignored her and shoved her arms into the sleeves and zipped it up. “Don’t worry about me. It’s only my pant legs and besides that, I hardly feel the cold. Come on, let’s get you home.” Ryne moved to pick her up, but Mel put out her arms, shaking her head.

“Uh-uh. I can get home perfectly well by myself.” She set off for the cabin at as quick of as pace as her soggy shoes would allow. Behind her, she could hear Ryne huff in exasperation before following.

By the time they reached the cabin, the brisk walk had warmed her a bit, but she still longed to get out of her wet clothes and into a warm shower. Ryne apparently had the same idea, for he walked right in and headed towards the bathroom and turned the shower on. Exiting, he looked around the room, spied her robe, and threw it at her. “Here, get out of those wet clothes and take a shower while I make you a cup of tea.”

“Coffee.”

He stopped mid-stride. “What?”

“Make it coffee. Nice and strong.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled at her and Mel scooted into the bathroom, a warm feeling filling her despite the cold clothes and her chilled skin.

By the time the hot water had run out, Mel felt considerably better. She pulled on her terrycloth robe and exited the bathroom, sniffing appreciatively as the smell of fresh coffee greeted her. Automatically, she turned towards the kitchen, but a sound behind her, drew her attention. It was Ryne, propped up in her bed.

His upper half was naked, his lower extremities hidden by the covers. He was sipping a cup of coffee and appeared to have made himself quite at home.

Mel folded her arms and frowned at him. “Why are you in my bed?”