Chapter 7 - The Cave
The storm raged outside for hours.
Jonah and Evelyn managed to find shelter in a small shallow cave carved into the rock face beneath the ridge. It was cold, dark, and cramped, but it kept them out of the fatal windchill.
Jonah sat propped against the stone wall, his face ghostly white, his left arm useless at his side. Evelyn sat beside him, huddled close, sharing her body heat to keep them both from slipping into hypothermia.
In the dark, surrounded by the howling wilderness, all the barriers between them had vanished. There were no titles, no fortunes, no suits, and no champagne. There were only two human beings trying to stay alive until sunrise.
"I'm sorry," Evelyn whispered into the darkness, her voice trembling.
Jonah shifted slightly, opening his eyes. "For what?"
"For everything," she said, tears finally slipping down her cheeks. "The gala. The way I talked to you. The way I treated you like you were nothing. You were trying to protect me, and I was... I was horrible."
Jonah was silent for a moment, listening to the wind whistle through the pine needles outside. "You were afraid," he said softly.
"That's no excuse," she countered bitterly. "I thought I was better than everyone else because I ran a company. Because I had money. But when those men started shooting... I was completely helpless. You stepped between me and a bullet without even thinking about it."
"It's my job, Evelyn."
"No," she said fiercely, looking at him in the dim light. "That wasn't just a job. Nobody takes a bullet for a job. Why did you do it?"
Jonah looked up at the ceiling of the cave. "Because my daughter needs to grow up in a world where men keep their promises. I gave my word to your father. And I gave my word to her that I’d come home."
Evelyn pressed her forehead against his good shoulder, weeping silently. "She must be so proud of you."
"She just wants her dad," Jonah said, his voice dropping to a faint whisper as exhaustion began to overpower him. "If... if we don't make it out of here, Evelyn..."
"Don't say that," she demanded, pulling his thick coat tighter around his shoulders. "We are making it out. I am going to make sure you get back to her."
"My coat... inner pocket," Jonah grunted, his eyes fluttering shut. "There’s a picture..."
Evelyn reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a worn, laminated photograph. In the faint light, she saw a little girl with bright brown eyes and a wide, toothy smile, wearing a pink hospital gown, holding Jonah’s hand. On the back, written in messy child’s crayon, were the words: My Hero Dad.
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Evelyn clutched the photograph to her chest, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. She looked at Jonah, whose breathing was becoming shallow and ragged.
"Hang on, Jonah," she whispered, pulling him closer to her, wrapping her body around his to give him every ounce of warmth she had left. "Please... just hold on until morning."
