to get up? It’s kind of comfy down here. It would be even more comfy if you lay down with me.”
“No, thanks. We need to get moving. Come on.” She grasped his hand.
He sighed heavily and tugged his hand out of hers. “I’ll do it by myself. You’re a tiny little thing. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He rolled over and forced himself up on his knees. A pair of surprisingly strong arms grabbed him around his waist and helped him stand. He staggered and she pulled his right arm around her shoulders, keeping her other arm around his waist.
Impressed, he smiled down at her and patted the top of her head. “You’re stronger than you look, little one.”
“And you don’t smell anywhere near as good as you look. So let’s get this over with.”
He let out a crack of laughter. “Now that’s one I’ve never heard before. My apologies. I think it’s eau de jet fuel mixed with eau de swamp water.”
She didn’t respond. All in all, his little rescuer didn’t seem to have much of a sense of humor. Too bad. Making a woman smile, seeing joy light up her eyes, was one of his greatest pleasures. Especially when they were making love.
The infernal heat seemed worse now. And the growing stiffness in his leg was making walking more and more of a chore. Even with Canoe Girl’s help, his steps were growing slower and slower. He stumbled and grabbed a tree for support.
“You can do it,” she urged, pulling him back from the tree.
“Actually, I’m not sure that I can. How much farther do we have to go?”
“A hundred yards, give or take.”
He squinted at the wavering shapes in front of him then gave her an admonishing look. “You’re teasing me. I don’t see any buildings. It must be farther than that to Mystic Glades.”
“It’s a hundred yards to my canoe. Make it there and I can take you the rest of the way to town.”
A wave of dizziness had him grabbing another tree. “I don’t...think I can...make it that far.”
“Sure you can. What are you, six-two? You’re a big, strong guy. Just put one foot in front of the other. Close your eyes if it makes it easier.”
He took a shaky step. “I don’t suppose you have a four-wheeler hidden behind a tree somewhere closer than the canoe?”
“I’m fresh out of four-wheelers today.”
“Bummer. I would have liked to ride a four-wheeler, especially with a pretty girl. Everything’s better with a pretty girl.” He winked and tried to grin, but the effort required more energy than he had left. “So...tired.” He fell to his knees and surrendered to the darkness.
Amber groaned and sank to her knees beside the handsome stranger with the corny yet kind of endearing sense of humor. Eau de jet fuel? If she hadn’t been so worried about his fever she might have laughed at that. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed.
Now that he was unconscious, how was she supposed to help him? Even though her canoe was a short jog away, it might as well have been miles. There was no way she could drag him that far. And even though he certainly wasn’t packing any extra pounds, all those scrumptious-looking muscles had to amount to a lot of weight.
She pressed her hand to his forehead again and grimaced. He was like a furnace. If she didn’t get his fever down soon he might have a seizure. And those red lines on his leg meant he had blood poisoning. That was probably what was causing the fever. That kind of infection could easily kill him no matter how big and strong he was.
She pulled his phone out of her pocket. When he’d dropped it earlier, she’d picked it up, planning on erasing the pictures he’d taken of her before returning the phone to him. But right now she just wanted to see if she could call for help, even though odds were high there wasn’t any reception out here. When she’d made the swamp her home, she’d had a cell phone but had quickly learned that it was useless in about 99 percent of the Glades. She did know a few spots that got reliable reception, but they were much deeper into the swamp, too far away to be of use right now.
She pressed the main button and it asked her for her password. Shoot. She should have asked him for the code while he was delirious with fever and still conscious. He might have told her without a second thought. The service bars showed No Service anyway, so there was really no point. Making a call had been a long shot.
She shoved it into her pocket.
So, what now? Getting him to the canoe would take hours, assuming she could roll him there, which was the only way she could think of moving him. But she didn’t think he had hours, not with that kind of fever. She had to bring it down. But how? Medicine, even if she could bring herself to try to doctor someone again, would take too long to make—and that was only if she could find the right plants. What she really needed was a bag of ice, something not exactly around every corner out here.
Wait. She might not have ice, but she had access to the next best thing. A spring. There were a handful of them scattered throughout the Glades, feeding ice-cold fresh water into the marsh from deep underground aquifers. And there were a few close by, one of them much closer than her canoe. It was worth a try. But how to get him there?
Her gaze dropped to his belt. Yes. That might work. She unbuckled it and worked it free, rolling him to pull it from underneath him. Then she strapped it around his chest below his arms and fastened it on the last hole. His chest was wide and muscular. It didn’t give her much play in the belt, but it gave her enough to be able to slip her hands beneath his back and grasp the belt. She was just short enough that this might work.
Bracing her legs wide apart, she heaved backward. He slid easier than she’d expected on the soft mud and she almost fell on her rear end. Through a series of trial and error she finally found the best angle and managed to get him moving at a decent clip. She pulled him around the group of trees toward the spring, which was only thirty feet behind her, hidden in another group of trees. The muscles in her arms burned and her back was aching by the time she’d gotten him just ten feet from their original location.
She had to stop and take deep breaths, letting her shaking muscles rest before she started up again. Any hope that she might be able to use this method to get him to the canoe died a quick death. It would be a miracle if she could just get him to the freshwater. Someone had died once because of her actions. She was determined not to let her inaction be the cause of this man’s death. Giving up wasn’t an option. She had to keep going.
Fifteen minutes later she finally had him beside the spring, next to a shallow spot where she could sit and hold him without him slipping in too far and drowning. She emptied his pockets of his wallet and keys, leaving them up on the bank. After shucking his shoes and her boots, along with her knife, she took a bracing breath, then slid into the spring.
She gasped and pressed her hands against her breasts, her teeth already chattering even though she was barely covered by the water as she sat down. Shivering violently, she grabbed the belt around Dex and tugged, hard.
He slipped easily over the soft side and she had to grab his head to keep it above water as his body rolled over. She caught his face against her chest,
