Gone Too Deep by Katie Ruggle

one knee deep in snow.
    As she pulled her leg out of the drift, her boot caught on the top crust of ice and started to slide off her foot. Bending, she caught the top of her escaping boot and jammed her heel down. Once it was in place again, she stayed leaning forward, using the opportunity to pant for oxygen.
    Two enormous boots appeared in her view. Forcing herself to straighten, she tried to give the appearance of breathing normally and not sucking air like a winded racehorse. George was watching her and, no surprise, frowning.
    â€œOkay.” Her ruse was completely destroyed when she talked, since she couldn’t get out more than one word at a time. “Ready…now. Let’s…go.”
    Instead of turning and leading the way once again, he reached toward the side of his pack. By feel, he unzipped an outside pocket and pulled out a small bag. When he held it out to her, she saw that it contained trail mix.
    â€œNo, thanks.” She was able to say two words without a gasp in the middle. Ellie considered that an improvement.
    He didn’t withdraw his hand.
    Shaking her head, she added, “Still full from…breakfast.”
    Now he was frowning again, and he was still holding out the trail mix.
    â€œFine,” she sighed, accepting the nuts and raisins. Jamming a few into her mouth, she chewed, wishing that it was at least the kind of mix that had chocolate in it.
    â€œDrink, too.” George gestured toward one of her water bottles.
    As she obediently washed down her mouthful of trail mix, Ellie wondered if she’d ever get used to that so-infrequent bass rumble. After three more small handfuls of food, she returned the bag to George. He must have considered her intake to be sufficient, since he accepted the trail mix and promptly finished it. She watched, awed by the amount of food he was able to consume, but then figured it wasn’t that surprising—his huge, muscled frame must require a lot of fuel.
    After a few more swallows, she restowed her water bottle. George lifted his brows in question, and she gave a firm nod. Whether it was the food, water, or just standing still and breathing, Ellie felt… She wouldn’t say energized, but at least she was slightly more prepared to keep walking.
    They continued like that for a while, walking for much too long a time and then stopping for much too short a time. By the fourth break, Ellie was flushed and damp with perspiration. Barbara had promised her long underwear would wick away any moisture, but either it was failing, or she was sweating more than it could wick.
    George’s brow was creased with an unhappy wrinkle.
    â€œWhat?” Ellie asked after she swallowed her mouthful of granola bar. “I’m eating and drinking”—she held up her water bottle—“so why are you cranky?”
    As usual, his response was word-free. Pulling off a glove, he reached toward her. His hand slid under the bottom hem of her jacket, and his fingers dove beneath all of her layers before she could react. At the touch of his calloused skin on her bare stomach, she jumped and took a belated step back, pulling away from him. Even when the contact was broken, she could still feel the heat where his fingers had touched.
    â€œWhat was…?” She stared at him. “What?”
    â€œYou’re sweating.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œYou’ll get cold. Take off a layer.” Once again, he reached for her, as if he was going to start stripping off her clothes, and she reversed another step.
    â€œOkay, but you could’ve just asked me.” Still flustered, Ellie started unbuckling the straps holding on her pack. “I’m not a horse. If you want to know if I’m sweating, just say, ‘Are you sweating?’ and I’ll answer honestly. You don’t have to feel me up to find out.”
    Her backpack was reluctant to leave her shoulders, so she squatted until the bottom of the pack rested