Only Her Smokejumper Firefighter - Cami Checketts Page 0,19

for patience.

Chapter Four

Mavyn took another painful, shuffling step forward. She felt like she’d been walking for hours. She could see the end of the canyon now and that was the only reason she hadn’t gone back to cower in her warm rented Tahoe until it ran out of gas. Freezing sitting down had to be less painful. Why hadn’t she thought of that initially? Eventually, someone would have to drive past and rescue her. Maybe. This canyon was far too quiet and had been giving her a creepy feeling for the past hour. She darted a glance up the mountainside. Was there a vicious bear or mountain lion lurking in those thick snow-covered pine trees? Wait, bears hibernated. She had no clue about mountain lions or wolves or moose, which supposedly killed more people than bears.

She shivered from fear as much as cold and pulled out her phone with numb fingers to check if she had service. She’d checked multiple times already, but once again … no service. She dropped her phone back in her purse. Maybe when she reached the end of the canyon, she could finally call a tow truck. Or she might just call 911. She was in mortal peril, so a call to the police or EMTs shouldn’t be too out of line.

She had never known cold like this existed. She’d lived in San Francisco most of her life and the saying, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco,” wasn’t something to sneer at. The humidity and the ocean breeze could cut right through a person, but it was nothing compared to the icy horror of the Montana mountains with only a sweatshirt for protection. San Francisco’s cold could be miserable, but Montana’s cold could kill an unprepared woman like her.

Her body was so cold she literally felt her limbs freeze and refuse to move. Through sheer force of will, she kept putting one foot in front of the other. She’d run marathons that were a piece of cake compared to this physical agony.

When she’d started walking, her thoughts had been full of bitterness for yet another time that the Lord hadn’t cared about her. The cold misery was trying to humble her. She never thought she’d be a deathbed repentance type, but here she was. With each miserable step, her thoughts had morphed. She was still bitter and angry, but she’d started repeating a silent, desperate prayer in her mind.

I know You can never forgive me but please, please help me.

She didn’t have much faith that it would be answered. Her prayers were never answered.

Eventually her legs were going to stop responding, she was going to sink into a snowbank on the side of the road, and they’d find her frozen stiff the day after Christmas. She’d miss Cora and she’d miss Ren but they’d both probably be better off without her. Her regret now was that she hadn’t kissed Ren one more time, twenty more times. That was her selfish nature coming through again. Kissing Ren more would’ve hurt him in the long run. He was so good. Circumstances kept driving home how undeserving she was of his kindness and goodness. He’d been willing to forgive her for ditching him four months ago and hadn’t judged her for trying to undress him last night. Ren was incredible, perfect in her mind.

How long had she been walking? How in the world had no vehicles come by? It was Christmas Eve, so everybody was probably hunkered down enjoying their own families, or maybe she was just a blubbering wimp and had only been walking a matter of minutes, not hours. She should look at her phone and check the time and check for service once more. She tried to pull one of her hands out of her sweatshirt and jam it into her purse, but her fingers were too frozen to wrap around her icy phone and pull it out.

She wished she had some faith to cling to. Could she steal faith from Cora or Ren’s testimony since she had none of her own? Positive thoughts. That’s what she needed. Positive thoughts would keep her moving and warm her up. Maybe a car would come and rescue her any second.

Please send a car. Please send a car. Yep, she was one of those lame deathbed repentance people. She couldn’t find it in her to care, or dredge up the pride and sass that had carried her through for years. She was