Getting to her knees, Kirsten moves forward and gathers her semi-conscious lover into her arms, stroking the sweat damp hair and whispering nonsense words into her ear as she recovers and comes back to planet earth.

“You…learned that in…Girl Scouts…did you?” Koda asks as strength and sensation finally opt to make a reappearance.

“That one I thought up on my own,” Kirsten replies cheekily. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Liked it? As soon as I can find the top of my head around here, I’ll show you how much I liked it.”

Kirsten chuckles. “We’ve got plenty of time for that, my love. Right now, I think sleep’s calling.”

“Donwanna.”

“Come on, boneless one, time for bed.”

A truly aggrieved sigh follows, but Dakota allows Kirsten to help her to her knees and over to where their sleeping bags lie ready for them. They settle in, back to front, and Koda presses a kiss to Kirsten’s salty shoulder. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Dakota Rivers. I love you too.”

And with that, the two lovers fall into a well earned slumber.

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE

FROM THE DEPTHS of her dream, Dakota hears the whine of a dog desperate for relief. “Wash,” she mumbles, shifting beneath the blankets, “let the dog out.” Another whine, this one louder and even more desperate. “C’mon, Wash. She’s your dog. Let her out already!”

A somewhat grouchy, somewhat sleepy grumble sounds right next to her ear, causing her eyes to open. It comes to her, then, with sudden clarity that this stunning blonde vision is about as far from being her youngest brother as it is possible to get.

“All right. I’m up already. I’m up!”

“I’m sorry, love,” Koda replies, rolling up and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “I was dreaming. I’ll get him.”

“No, no,” Kirsten states, eyes still closed as she struggles out of the confining sleeping bag, “he’s my dog, I’ll let him out.”

Both manage to get to their feet at about the same time and spend a moment leaning against one another as they fully awaken to a new day. Asi whines again, all but crossing his legs. Kirsten swears his eyes are yellow. “You poor goober,” she sighs. “We forgot about you last night, didn’t we.”

His expression appears to say that yes, they did forget about him, but all will be forgiven if they would just please use their opposable thumbs to unlatch the door and let him outside…post haste, if you please.

Snagging the top blanket to wrap around herself, Kirsten stumbles to the door and, after a few good yanks, manages to pry it open. Asi takes one step out into the still raging blizzard and stops. A wide strip of fur from shoulder to tail spikes up and he tears off into the whiteness, barking insanely.

Kirsten freezes. “Asi—.”

“Asimov! No!!” Without thought, Dakota runs naked into the blizzard toward the sudden snarls—which aren’t Asi’s, and the pained yelp—which is.

“Dakota!!” Kirsten screams, already losing sight of her lover in the driving, thigh-deep snow. “Shit!!” Turning, she runs back into the house and grabs the first set of clothing she can lay her hands on, yanking on too-large sweatpants and her own t-shirt and shoving her feet into her still wet boots. Dakota’s gun is closest to hand, and she grabs it and heads back outside at a run. “Dakota!! Asimov!!”

“Stay back!” Dakota’s voice is commanding, though oddly flat, as if muffled by cotton batting.

Ignoring the order, Kirsten bounds into the snow, following the short trail Dakota has blazed, rifle cocked and at the ready—for what, she doesn’t know. Another series of high-pitched and piercing yelps is followed by an unearthly howling that all but freezes Kirsten’s heart in her chest. “Dakota!!!”

The howling cuts off abruptly and Koda reappears through the curtain of snow, blood covered and carrying Asi’s limp form in her arms. “Get my kit and build up a fire! Hurry!!”

Without further question, eyes wide and fearful, Kirsten turns again and races through the deep snow back into the shack. Setting the rifle in the corner, she hurries to the packs and quickly digs Koda’s first-aid kit from the larger one. Placing it on the sleeping bags, she then strides to the fireplace, drops to her knees, and starts feeding sticks into the smoldering fire, fanning it to hurry the process along. Dakota enters a moment later and lays Asimov gently down on the sleeping bags. “It’s okay, boy,” she says softly, stroking his fur, “you’re gonna be alright. I promise.”

The fire blazing, Kirsten comes to kneel beside her lover, placing the blanket over Koda’s icy shoulders and looking down at her beloved pet. A long, blood slice lays open his side from mid-chest to belly. Blood pours liberally from the cut, obscuring its depth. “What happened?” she asks, eyes brimming with tears.

“Wolverine. Get me some rags, t-shirts, anything to wipe this blood off, and some water. Hurry.”

Kirsten grabs random batches of clothing from their packs and starts shredding them as Koda opens her kit and removes several items. Her fingers are like ice, but the adrenaline rushing through her body causes her not to notice. Grabbing a rag from her lover, she covers the wound and presses hard. Blood soaks through quickly, and she tosses it away, retrieving another one and repeating the process until finally the blood from the gouge begins to slow to a trickle. Grabbing a pair of battery-operated clippers, she quickly and efficiently begins to shave away the fur around the gash until his skin is smooth to the touch. “Give me a couple of wet rags,” she orders.

Wet rags in hand, she carefully wipes the blood from the edges of the wound, breathing a sigh of internal relief as the cleansing reveals that the cut, while deep, does not break through the deepest barrier of skin. His organs are intact and undamaged. “Does he mind shots?” she asks, without looking up from her work.

“I…I don’t think so. Koda…?”

“Is he up to date on his rabies?”

“I…um….”

“Kirsten!”

“I’m thinking, alright!? It was maybe two weeks before everything went crazy. Asi stepped on a thorn or something and I took him to the Vet. He got a shot.”

“Was it rabies?”

“I don’t…yes, it was. His year was almost up, and the vet decided to give it to him then so I wouldn’t have to come back.”

“Good.”

“Do wolverines carry rabies?”

“They can, yes. Get another wet rag and try to keep the cut clean of blood so I can see what I’m doing.”

Swallowing hard, Kirsten does as asked, using her free hand to gently stroke Asi’s trembling flanks. Reaching into the kit, Koda removes several narrow syringes. “Lidocaine,” she explains to Kirsten. “It’ll deaden the area I need to stitch. Just a little prick, boy.”

Asi looks at her with offended eyes, and Koda chuckles softly. “Yeah, that’s what all you men say. Ok, here we go.” Pinching up his skin, she injects the drug into several places, then sits back, waiting for the medication to take effect.

“Dakota,” Kirsten says gently, “you need to get warmed up. You’re nothing but a block of ice.”

“I’m alright,” Koda replies firmly, shaking Kirsten’s arm from her shoulder. “I need to take care of the dog first.”

“But you can’t—.”

“I’m alright.” Reaching out, she touches the skin around the cut, nodding. “Okay, boy, time to stitch you up. Kirsten, sit over there near his head in case he gets a mind to bite me.”

“He’d never bite you!”

The look Koda gives her convinces her to switch positions, and a second later, she’s settled next to Asi, his head in her lap. “It’s gonna be okay, boy. You’re gonna be okay. Promise, ok?”

Raising calm eyes to his mistress, Asimov licks the inside of her wrist, causing her to giggle. “Stop, that tickles!”

Slipping powdered latex gloves on over her icy hands is an exercise in slow torture, but Dakota manages, and further manages to make the fine motor skills of her fingers work in picking up the threaded suture needle. “Ok, boy, here it comes.”

It takes a double row of stitches to close the deep wound, but Asi bears it well, without even a whimper, and soon Dakota’s work is done. A bit of antibiotic salve rubbed over the stitches, and she removes her bloodied gloves with a snap. “There, all done. It’ll leave a scar, but his fur should cover it, and if it doesn’t, he can brag to all his buddies about the time he went up against a wolverine and lived.” Then she looks directly at her patient. “And no licking, or I’ll have you looking like Mary, Queen of Scots in a heartbeat, understand me?”

Asi gives an affronted growl.

“Just remember what I said. I’ve got plastic collars right here and if you don’t want to be mistaken for a radar dish for the next week, no…licking. Got me?”

With a truly martyred sigh, Asi lays his head back in his mother’s lap and closes his eyes to further discussion on the matter. Kirsten looks up at Koda, eyes shining. “Thank you.”

Dakota gives a short nod. “Just trying to protect his family.”

“The wolverine?”

“Asimov. It was pretty brave. Stupid, but brave.”

Testing an unsure barometer, Kirsten gives a small smile. “Speaking of both of the above.” She inclines her head, scanning her lover’s naked, mottled and blood spattered body. “Please,” she whispers. “You helped Asi. Let me help you. Please?”

After a moment, Dakota nods, then tries to stand. Her knees refuse to bear her weight and she winds up sitting on the wet, bloody floor beneath her. Laying Asi’s head carefully down on the sleeping bag, Kirsten jumps to her feet and grabs the rest of their blankets, bundling her lover in them before going over to the fire and removing two pots of water she’d set to heat when she built up the blaze. Liberating some soap and clean cloths from their bags, she comes to her partner’s side and gently begins to clean the crusted blood from her limbs and body. She doesn’t miss the stiffening, nor the soft intake of breath when she reaches for Dakota’s left arm. Bringing it slowly out into the light, her eyes widen even as her face pales. “Dakota?” she asks, her voice tremoring. “Did Asimov bite you?”