“Then in you go with your undies on,” Mom decreed, moving from the now filled bath to Mindy.
We helped her in and I said to Mom, “My shampoo and conditioner are in the shower stall, can you get them?”
“Sure thing, Neenee Bean,” Mom replied before scurrying off.
“I’m not strong like you,” Mindy mumbled and I looked from Mom to her and dropped down to my knees by the tub.
“What, darling?” I asked.
She was shivering in the tub, her arms crossed on her chest, fingers curled around her shoulders, eyes glued to her toes.
“You’re strong. I’m not.”
“Mins,” I whispered and her head twisted to look at me.
“You don’t let anyone walk all over you. I’ll never be that way.”
If she hadn’t already broken my heart, that would have done it.
“We’ll talk later,” I told her. “Let’s get you warm.”
Mom handed me my shampoo and conditioner. I set it on the side of the tub and I moved down the tub to grab the hand spray in order to get to work on Mindy’s hair.
“I’ll get this, you go get out of those wet clothes,” Mom said, bending toward me.
“I’m fine,” I replied. “Mins, lean your head forward for me, will you?”
Mindy did what I asked but Mom got closer.
“Sweetie, you’re soaked through and shivering, go change your clothes, you can come back to Mindy in a second.”
Mindy turned toward me and her eyes hit me but I smiled at her, realizing for the first time I was, indeed, shivering mostly because I was chilled straight through to the bone likely because I’d been in a snow melt rushing river and also because of all that had recently transpired. I also realized then that my clothes felt like they weighed a ton.
I ignored all of this.
“I’m fine,” I replied on a small, trembling smile to Mindy. “Head forward, my lovely.”
“Nina –” Mom started and I turned and locked eyes with her.
“Mom. I’m. Fine.”
Mom stared at me a second, straightened and I felt her presence move away. It took me a couple of tries to get the hand spray working because my own hands were trembling so much.
I distractedly heard Mom say, “Max,” but I was able to get the hand spray working so my concentration went to getting the water warm.
“Cover Mindy,” I heard Max’s gravelly voice say from not too far but not too close.
“Gotcha,” I heard Mom reply and then she was for some reason holding up a towel lengthwise beside the tub, getting right in my space.
“Mom, you’re in my way,” I told her.
“Hand me the spray, Nina,” Becca said, coming in behind me.
“But –” I started, Becca reached in, pulled the spray out of my hand and then I was going up.
I twisted my neck to see I was in Max’s arms. “Max! I’m washing Mindy’s hair.”
“You can do it after you change,” Max replied, walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
I saw Brody, back to the room, his clothes, likely Max’s clothes, were dry and he was standing at the railing.
Max walked me directly to my suitcase.
“Max, seriously, I’m fine.”
“You’re tremblin’.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, you will, after you get some dry, warm clothes on you.”
“Max!” I snapped.
“Shut it, Duchess,” he clipped back then put me on my feet.
I no sooner got steady when his hands were at my sweater and it was over my head, it’s sodden weight lifted clean away and I felt like I’d come out from under a boulder.
Even so, I breathed, “Max,” and looked over my shoulder at Brody, who still had his back to the room.
When I turned back Max was digging through my suitcase.
“Bra off,” he ordered quietly when he turned to me.
“What?” I breathed again.
He lifted up a clean bra. “Wet bra off, dry bra on.”
“Brody’s here,” I hissed.
“Brody’s not thinkin’ about your body,” Max returned.
This was definitely true.
I twisted my hands behind me and unhooked my bra. Max handed me the new one before the wet one fell away and he’d already turned back to my suitcase and was again rummaging when I clumsily slipped it on.
When he was facing me again, he had my heaviest sweater in his hands and he gave it to me then his hands went to my jeans.
“Can you get your boots off?” he asked as the button came undone and the zip went down.
I nodded and with some effort flipped my boots off with a toe to each heel as he pulled the jeans down my legs. When he did, I sucked in breath when surprising, stinging pain struck my entire left side.
Max’s hands stopped pulling down the jeans and they went to my hips. He tilted them slightly, looked my leg up and down and whistled through his teeth.
“Scraped, honey, hip to ankle,” he muttered, his fingers probing gently at my flesh.
“I’m okay,” I assured him.
“We need to get this cleaned up.”
“In a minute.”
His head tipped back and he looked at me. “Nina –”