“Gideon!”
No answer.
She pulled.
Heavy.
Then slack.
Fear exploded.
“Gideon!”
She tied rope around post, followed line.
Snow blinded.
She found him forty yards away.
A pine had fallen.
Not fully across body.
One heavy branch pinned shoulder and coat.
Gideon was unconscious.
Adelaide screamed his name.
No response.
She tried lifting branch.
Too heavy.
She searched.
Found broken limb.
Used as lever.
Once.
Twice.
Nothing.
She changed angle.
Pressed her full weight.
The branch shifted.
Another inch.
She pushed again, legs shaking.
Enough.
She dragged Gideon free by coat.
He was massive.
Dead weight.
Adelaide could not carry him.
So she did what farm life taught.
She used rope.
Made loop beneath shoulders.
Wrapped rope around her own waist.
Leaned forward.
Walked.
One step.
Another.
Snow resisted.
Her body, the thing men had mocked for being too heavy, became ballast and force.
She leaned into harness and pulled.
Ten yards.
Twenty.
She fell twice.
Got up.
At barn, she found sled.
Rolled Gideon onto it.
Then dragged him to cabin.
By the time she got him inside, Adelaide could barely feel fingers.
She stripped his wet coat.
His forehead was bleeding lightly from scrape.
No broken skull she could see.
Shoulder swollen.
Breathing shallow.
She warmed him slowly.
Blankets.
Fire.
Warm broth only when awake enough.
He did not wake properly for six hours.
Then fever began.
By midnight Gideon muttered Abigail’s name.
Adelaide sat beside him.
Her heart twisted.
She placed wet cloth on forehead.
He caught her wrist.
His eyes opened barely.
“Abigail?”
“No.”
He blinked.
Focus returned.
“Adelaide.”
“Yes.”
“You should've left me.”
Her eyes filled.
“Don't start.”
“After what I…”
She leaned closer.
“Don’t you dare die after making me fight this hard to bring you home.”
His fingers tightened weakly.
“After the way I treated you… you still came back for me.”
Adelaide’s voice broke.
“Because somewhere between hating you and saving you, I started loving you.”
Gideon stared.
Even fever could not hide shock.
Adelaide realized what she had said.
Too late.
She looked away.
Gideon whispered:
“I wasn't afraid of your size.”
She turned.
“Not really.”
“I was afraid I'd love you.”
Tears ran into his beard.
“Then lose you.”
His breath shook.
“And Abigail died because I sent her into a storm exactly like this.”
Adelaide pressed his hand between hers.