UNBROKEN PROMISE

~69~ Blizzard

Logan's boots crunched heavily in the thickening snow as he trudged forward, his breath coming out in visible puffs of air. The wind had picked up, but he barely noticed. His focus was on the faint footprints ahead of him, half covered by fresh snowfall. His heart pounded in his chest.

"Oma..." he muttered under his breath, pushing forward.

She shouldn't have been out here. Not for this long. The winter's cold was unforgiving, and she was too small to withstand it. His throat tightened with panic. It was his fault-he knew it, but he wasn't going to let himself think about that now.

Then he stopped.

The footprints stopped abruptly near a pile of snow, the uneven shape of it setting off alarms in his head. His stomach twisted violently as he rushed forward, falling to his knees. He dug into the snow with trembling hands, his fingers going numb as he frantically pushed it aside.

Oma.

Her body was curled in on itself, her skin deathly pale against the white snow. Her dark hair was splayed around her, strands stuck to her frozen cheeks. Her lips-usually soft, usually warm-were tinged a dangerous shade of blue.

Logan felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs.

"No, no, no," he whispered, his voice hoarse as he scooped her up. Her body was limp against him, her head lolling back. His gloved fingers pressed against her neck, searching and praying for a pulse.

And then... there it was. Faint. Weak. But there.

A shuddering breath left him as he pulled her closer to his chest, wrapping his coat around her as best as he could. "Thank you, Lord," he rasped. But he had to act quick.

She was barely breathing.

His hands tightened around her as he stood, holding her protectively against his chest. His own coat was pulled open now, the freezing wind biting at his skin, but he didn't care. He pressed her against him, desperate to share his warmth.

"Hold on, Oma," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Just hold on."

He started back toward the house, his boots sinking into the snow with each hurried step. The blizzard was worsening, he hadn't realized just how bad it had gotten. His vision blurred from the wind and the sting of unshed tears. He wasn't even sure when he started crying, but the warmth trailing down his cheeks was unmistakable.

"This is my fault," he choked out, his voice raw. "Oma, I'm so sorry. Just... just hold on for me, alright?"

She didn't stir.

He felt a fresh wave of guilt, and he held her even tighter. He couldn't lose her. Not like this. Not when he had so much left unsaid.

The house came into view, its lights glowing dimly against the raging storm. Logan forced his legs to move faster, pushing through the snowdrifts as he reached the porch. He banged against the door with his shoulder, nearly knocking it off its hinges.

The door swung open, revealing Mama Becca, her face twisting in horror the second she saw the bundle in Logan's arms.

"Dear Lord, what happened?!" she exclaimed, already reaching out.

"She's out cold," Logan said, his voice shaking as he pushed past her. "We need to do something now."

Mama Becca snapped into action immediately. "Take her upstairs! Settle her down, and I'll bring hot water and blankets."

Logan didn't need to be told twice. He carried Oma straight to his room, his heart pounding harder with every second that passed. He laid her down gently on his bed, brushing her damp hair from her face.