Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV, or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

"In the Kiss of One Girl"

By SL Haas

(Copyright November 1996, Revised April 1999)

June 1984

During the time that TJ stayed with Phil, Benton Fraser was a regular visitor at Phil's place. He usually came over after his shift and spent the evening with them.

Phil once asked, "Don't you get tired of spending time with me, T? We're together at work most of the time. Don't you think you should spend more time with the other members of this squad?"

"Well, to be truthful, Phil, I am not spending my evenings with you. I spend them with TJ. Can we help it if you happen to be there, too?" He grinned at the expression on her face.

Not only were Phil and Ben getting to know each other better, but Ben and TJ were also forging a friendship. The three of them enjoyed their evenings.

* * *

Ben was busy filing rescue reports in the lone file cabinet in the main room. "It really would take such a small amount of time to file these properly."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. If we did that you wouldn't have anything to do. What is it with you, Fraser? Do you get 'Mountie' points for tidiness?" Jason was his usual abrasive self.

"It's a known fact that properly filed materials are easier to retrieve when needed and subsequently..." Ben's voice trailed off as he saw Phil enter the station. The look on her face sent him immediately to her side. He grasped her shoulders and swung her around to where he could look into her face. He searched her eyes. The pain he saw there coupled with the blankness of her stare frightened him.

"Phil? What's happened?" She didn't respond, her blank eyes searching the room. He shook her. No response. He shook her again, harder. "Phil? Snap out of it. What's the matter? What's happened?" By this time Jason had joined him in trying to reach Phil.

Ben pulled her to him. She was shaking. He held her close and whispered soothing sounds in her ear, "What is it, Phil?"

As if from a distance, Phil heard a voice calling to her. She focused her eyes and looked up into Ben's face. "Ben?" she shuddered. "Ben?"

"What is it, Phil? What's happened?"

"TJ..."

A cold hand of dread squeezed the heart in his chest. Ben was really frightened now. "What's happened to TJ? Is he hurt? What...?"

"Noelle's dead."

"Noelle?" He swallowed and pain replaced the dread in his chest. TJ had often spoken of the woman he loved. "How? What?"

"TJ's friend in Paris called. Noelle was killed in an auto accident." She grabbed the front of Ben's shirt. "T, I've never seen him like this. He won't talk to me. I'm so afraid..." The words tumbled through her tears. Leaning against his chest, she sobbed quietly. Ben held her tight.

"Jason, I've got to go. Can you handle things here without me?"

"Of course I can. You take Phil home. TJ's a friend of mine, too."

Ben drove Phil home. She continued to cry quietly.

There was no sign of TJ when they got there. Phil stepped out onto the deck and gazed down toward the river. Where could he be? Where would she go if she needed time alone--time to think? Of course! Phil turned to Ben, who had come up behind her, "He's at the Point."

"I'll go."

"No, he's my brother..."

"Yes...and he's my friend...and sometimes a friend is more welcome than family." He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "He's just suffered a great loss. He knows you love him and feel his pain, he just doesn't need that right now. He need someone steady..."

How dare he suggest that TJ didn't need her? Of course, he needed her. If she ever suffered such as loss, she knew her brothers would be there for her. They were always there for her--just as she was there for her brothers. That was a constant in the McKenzie universe.

But...did TJ need her emotional response to his loss right now? Shouldn't he be able to grieve for Noelle without worrying how his state of mind was affecting his sister? She closed her eyes and nodded. "Thanks, T. I'm glad you're here."

He took the glasses from her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I'm glad, too."

* * *

The day was dismal, the drive to the airport, long and silent. "What are you going to do, TJ?" He had stayed with Phil an additional week, but now he was leaving.

"What I planned on doing all along. The only thing that's changed is I won't be getting married now."

"Please stay a little longer."

"I can't, Flip. I have to get on with my life just as you do. I'm going on to Chicago to conclude the arrangements I've already made. I'll stay with Rob. If things go well with my interview..." He smiled at her. "I'll be all right, Flip. It's just going to take time that’s all. Don't let what's happened to me affect things between you and Ben. He's the right man for you. He truly cares about you." He saw the hesitation in her eyes. "He's a good friend, too, for both of us."

"Then why isn't he here to say good-bye?"

"I asked him not to. I wanted to be alone with you. We said our good-byes last night."

They hugged and kissed one last time. TJ strolled to the waiting plane...then he was gone. Phil watched until the plane was out of sight. She turned away from the grey sky, stumbled to her Blazer, and drove home.

A pall settled over her. The house was so quiet without TJ there. She felt...alone. 'I've got to get out of here before I go stark raving bonkers,' she thought as she headed for the RMR station. Burying herself in the job helped. When she was involved in her work she didn't dwell on the pain she felt.

Entering the building, she headed for the office she shared with Jason. Ben saw her enter and moved toward her office. Phil saw him coming and shook her head. He stopped. When she entered her office, he turned and went back to his desk.

Dave leaned over to him and grinned, "Getting the cold shoulder from the Ice Queen?" Ben just glared at him then turned his eyes back to Phil's office.

Phil avoided all contact with Ben that day and the next. If a rescue request came in, she sent Ben with someone else.

"It's time for you to handle rescues without a nursemaid, Fraser. You don't need me to hold your hand."

The distant treatment went on for over a week. Anytime Ben approached Phil she treated him like a stranger. He watched her distance herself from him all week. He felt powerless to stop it. She was like a totally different person. Where was the Phil that was his friend? He didn't much care for this new Phil. He wanted the old Phil back--not this automaton that masqueraded as Phil McKenzie. He missed her company. He missed her. With the decisiveness that was a part of his nature he made a decision. He would give her a little more time to straighten herself out before he stepped in.

Phil had doubts of her own. 'Why am I doing this? I should at least explain to him why I can't let our relationship go any farther. Let him know that I can't go through the pain that TJ has.' She realized now that she would be sorry when Ben returned home to Canada.

'If I just keep my distance maybe it won't hurt so much.' Phil tried to rationalize her behavior, her abruptness with Ben. It sounded lame even to her.

Another week passed. Phil maintained her distance from Ben. He respected her need for space but her continued refusal to even talk to him on other than a professional

level upset and angered him. The tension between the two was palpable. Even the other members of the rescue squad commented on the icy treatment Ben was receiving. Several different frostbite remedies were offered.

Ben had waited long enough, had given Phil enough 'space' to find herself. Why was she still avoiding him? He thought their friendship had gotten off to a good start, but now...now it seemed like Phil was deliberately trying to discourage him. The Ice Queen was in full reign. What had happened to the warm, sharp-witted friend he had come to know? Only Phil had the answers to his questions, and, one way or another, she would answer them.

It was late when Phil finally turned her Blazer into the drive of her home. As she approached her door a shadow detached itself from it and stood there waiting for her. At first she was frightened and assumed a defensive posture. But the figure was familiar ...it haunted her dreams. "What are you doing here, Fraser?"

"I can understand Fraser when we're at work but when we're alone?"

"I'm sorry, Ben. I just...I can't deal with you now. I don't know if I'll ever be able to. Please, would you just go." Phil brushed her hair away from her face, weariness in her voice.

He moved toward her but she backed away from him. The look of denial she turned on him caused him to stop. "Phil, can't we talk. We can get through this if you just let us. I know how much you're hurting. I just want to help..."

"How do you know what I'm feeling? What makes you think I need or even want your help?" The angry words erupted from her. She closed her eyes and bit her lip then opened them to gaze at Ben, "Please, T, just go and leave me alone."

Ben gave her one last, searching look. She refused to meet his eyes. "This isn't over, Phil. Sooner or later you will talk to me. I can wait. Just don't you wait too long." He turned to go. Phil put her hand out and touched his arm. He turned back to look down into her face.

"I'm sorry, T. I don't know what's come over me. Things are upside down...nothing's where it's supposed to be." She paused and drew in a deep breath. "I have to work this out on my own. Your presence...I can't think straight when you're around. I promise you, I'll work this out as quickly as I can."

"I'm here for you if you need me."

"I know, Ben, and thanks. Now, please go while I can still think rationally." His hand came up and stroked her chin. She turned her face into the palm of his hand and placed a kiss there.

"Don't take too long, Phil. I miss you."

* * *

After a long night of tossing and turning and replaying the conversation with Ben, Phil knew she had to resolve the feelings that had haunted her since Noelle's death. She packed her gear and drove to the RMR station. Entering the building, she headed for Darryl's office. She waved to Angel and Mike who waved back. She was thankful she didn't see Ben.

She moved to the wall with the area maps posted on it. "Darryl, I need to get away for a couple of days. Has anyone run a patrol up Simpson's Gulch and over to Proctor?"

"Not for over two weeks. You thinking about doing it?"

"Yeah. I can make it to Blue Cabin tonight and to Hodge's Camp tomorrow. I can be back here in three days. Fraser's ready to handle rescues without me tagging along. In fact, he's been doing that already."

"I know. You're not planning a 'loner' are you? Not taking Fraser?"

"No, I need some time alone...away from him. What happened to TJ has really hit me hard. I need some time to work through it." She saw Darryl shaking his head. "I know the rules and I'll not attempt anything by myself. I'll take a radio along--as usual--and check in every day. If I need help, I know who to call."

"You know I can't approve this. You know the rules as well as I do: no solo patrols."

"Then, I'll take a couple days leave. I have to get away from here for a little while."

"You really want to do this?"

"I need to do this."

"Okay, but be careful. This storm system will hit sometime tomorrow. You may need to stay at Blue or Hodge's until it passes."

"Don't worry, Darryl. I'll watch the weather." She flashed him a cheeky grin then spun on her heels and left his office.

* * *

The hike up Simpson's Gulch was fairly easy. Phil followed the pack trail as it climbed toward the pass that would take her to Blue Basin and Blue Cabin. She met no one nor passed any groups, which suited her just fine.

At first the trail had paralleled Simpson's Creek, but soon climbed above it. After crossing the ridge, Phil hiked back down past the treeline and approached another stream. She stopped for a break at a one of her favorite spots. From where she stood she could see the stream as it cascaded down a sharp break in slope. The sunlight sparkled on the cascade producing a myriad of diamonds. The endless variety of beauty exhibited in the natural world never ceased to amaze her. It was one of the reasons she chose geology as a vocation. She wanted to know why the land looked the way it did.

Phil reached into her pack and withdrew her camera. Her photos documented her love of the out-of-doors and her research into the whys and wherefores. Moving closer to the edge of the trail, she knelt to take her pictures. She briefly glanced around when she heard a group of horses approaching. Reaching for her pack, she set it off the side of the trail. No sense in having it trampled by a horse. She waved to the horsemen then turned back to the stream and focused her camera on the cascade.

As the last horse passed her position, it spied something that startled it. The horse shied away from the middle of the trail and bumped into Phil.

Phil felt the presence of the horse before it hit her. She turned toward it and half raised a hand to protect herself. The horse's fetlock caught her on the side of the head sending her glasses flying. She felt herself fall even as blackness overtook her.

The force of the horse's impact propelled Phil's body off the side of the trail and out onto the slope down to the cascade. Her body slid several feet then began to roll as it picked up speed. She bounced off several rocks and a tree before finally landing in the stream. The water pooled around her body before continuing on down the slope.

The horse, now calmed, continued on with the other horses in the pack train. Neither of the two riders saw what happened behind them.

* * *

It was cold. She couldn't stop shivering. Phil regained consciousness slowly and painfully. Her head hurt and her side hurt. She rubbed the side of her head and was surprised to find blood on her hand when she drew it away. Wiping it on her shirt, she put the hand out to push herself up and felt it splash in the water. What was water doing here? She managed to roll over and felt waves of nausea as she fought to sit up. Where was she? She hugged her side and look around. Why was she sitting in a stream? Another wave of nausea passed quickly. She opened her eyes and crawled out of the stream. Blackness danced before her eyes.

‘I've got to get up and get moving,’ she thought. ‘I've got to get to...get to...’ Where she was going? Panic reigned, she didn't know where she was. "I'm...I'm...my name is...is Phil!" She clung to that anchor with all her strength. "My name is Phil."

She crawled to a tree and used it to get to her feet. She clutched the tree as another wave of nausea and blackness washed over her. ‘I've got to keep moving,’ she thought and holding her side, she staggered down the stream. Never daring to sit, she occasionally stopped to lean against a tree and rest. She followed the stream until it dropped over a precipice on its way down the mountain.

She no longer thought...only felt. The pain in her head and side devoured all thought. Blinking, trying to clear some of the fog from her mind, she turned and blundered away from the stream, choosing whatever path was easiest to follow. By now she was thoroughly lost. Unfortunately her injuries and shock prevented her from realizing that. She only knew she had to keep moving.

She stumbled and went down. Lying there, she tried to think of a reason to get up. She was so cold. Thirst gnawed at her. "Water...canteen..." she found the canteen attached to her belt and took a long satisfying swallow and another. She struggled to her feet and moved off, the canteen forgotten on the ground.

The sky began to darken in dusk. Phil weaved past a fallen tree and tripped over an exposed root. Her shirt snagged on an upthrust branch. It was wrenched off her as she fell to the ground. She lay there stunned, then pulled herself up, and crawled a few feet. She had to keep going...she couldn't stop. The fallen tree helped her to her feet and she wandered on past the clearing leaving her shirt stirring in the breeze. She was so cold, the absence of her shirt made little difference.

* * *

Ben's shift began at noon. From Darryl he learned that Phil had taken a couple of days leave and would be gone for awhile. She would report in when she reached Blue Cabin.

He volunteered to man the radio for the evening. Ben wanted to be there when Phil called in. He was worried about her. She had taken TJ's tragedy hard. He could understand her need to spend some time alone sorting through her feelings. He just wished she would talk to him. Maybe this time alone to collect her thoughts would help. He desperately hoped so. He missed her.

"Hey, Darryl, what time did Phil say she would check in?"

"She didn't, Fraser. But, if she makes good time, it takes about eight hours to reach Blue Cabin. She'll call when she gets there." Darryl shook his head and grinned, "I have to say this, Fraser, you certainly are persistent when it comes to the Ice Queen. Can't you take a hint?"

"What hint?"

"She's not interested in you. She won't let anyone get close to her except her brothers. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

"No...I got to know her and TJ fairly well while he was here. She's not as cold-hearted as you make her out to be. She's just hurting for TJ."

Darryl shrugged. If Fraser wanted a severe case of frostbite who was he to stop him? He'd been warned. Phil was one of his closest friends, but not someone to cozy up to when you wanted a little TLC.

"When did Phil leave?"

"She left here around 9."

"So, given a sufficient time to reach the trailhead—say an hour--she should reach Blue around 6."

"Assuming she didn't stop to take too many pictures." Darryl smiled, Phil's passion was well known to everyone.

6 p.m. came and passed. 7...8...9 and still no call from Phil. It wasn't like Phil to miss a call. She wouldn't miss a call unless something was wrong. Ben felt it deep in the pit of his stomach...something was wrong. He found the maps of the area and studied them while waiting for her call. At 10 he was frantic. Something had happened to Phil. He grabbed his pack and took one of the RMR jeeps. He was at the trailhead in less than an hour. Phil's Blazer sat by itself. He started up the trail. He could travel by moonlight for several hours then grab a couple of hours of sleep and be back on the trail by sunrise.

* * *

Phil continued to wander even after darkness had settled in. She had to keep moving. It was her mantra. She was cold, she couldn't remember ever being warm. She shivered uncontrollably. She couldn't remember when she had lost her shirt. It was just gone.

The wind picked up...further chilling her. She struggled on. She couldn't stop--she had to keep moving. She fell several times but pulled herself to her feet and continued on. She fell once more. This time, though, she pulled herself to her hands and knees but could go no further. Instead, she slowly toppled forward to lay sprawled on the ground. Sounds of the night fell gently on her still form. Moonlight shone on the trail not ten feet away.

* * *

Sunrise found Ben at the pass over the ridge that took him into Blue Basin. The view was spectacular but nothing compared to Thunder Basin. His thoughts turned to Phil and his worry increased. Where was she? Had she made it to Blue? Maybe the radio was out. But...she had a handset. No, something was wrong.

He cupped his hands about his mouth and shouted, "Phil!" There was no answer. He hadn't expected one but it felt good to release some of his anxiety.

He headed on down the trail. As he entered the treeline he could hear the roaring of a waterfall further down the trail. He rounded a corner and found himself on a shelf above a cascade. He paused and glanced around thinking, 'This is just the type of picture Phil would want.'

Something at the side of the trail caught his attention. He moved to the edge and knelt down on one knee to reach for the pack that was partially hidden by the brush. It looked like Phil's. His hands shook as he rummaged around inside of it for identification. He removed a 2-way radio, a couple of Snickers, some film, clothes, and a Bible. He read the inscription inside it:

Fear squeezed his heart; the pack was definitely Phil's. He returned her things to her pack and stuffed it into his. He stood on the edge of the trail and looked around. He shouted her name again. Where was she? His searching eyes scanned down toward the cascade. Something glinted in the sunlight.

He edged down the slope to the glint. It was Phil's camera. She would never leave her camera, her pack maybe, but never her camera. Something had happened. Standing there, he visually traced the path she must have taken down the slope. At the stream he could still see the indentation of a hand in the mud near the waterline. He looked around. His trained eye saw Phil falling down the slope, landing in the stream, pulling herself out, then following the stream downslope. The faint traces of her trail wavered. Dread choked him with the realization that she was injured.

He followed her trail down the stream to the waterfall over the precipice and then tracked her random movements from there. The storm system inexorably closed in on the mountain basin. He had to find her before he lost her trail in the storm. His heart beat faster with anxiety. What had happened to Phil? He followed her trail, noting each place where she fell and picked herself up. He found her abandoned canteen.

"Phil!" Still no answer.

He paused near a fallen tree and sat down on its bole. Putting his face in his hands, he took deep breaths trying to calm his heart. He needed all his faculties to find her. "Where is she?" he asked the trees around him. He was answered by the moaning of the wind as it threaded through the trees. A movement not natural to the forest caught his eye. He rose to his feet and slowly moved toward it. He found the shirt snagged on the branch. There was blood on it. He buried his face in the shirt. Her clean scent clung to it. Fear cloaked him as he raised his head from it. "Phil, where are you?" he whispered to the wind.

The storm built, thunder rumbled in the distance and lances of lightening flashed in the darkening clouds. He followed the weaving trail, fear cold in his heart. Ahead he could see the pack trail through the trees. Maybe she had found the trail and followed it to the cabin. He scrambled toward the trail and was on Phil before he saw her. She lay sprawled face downward on the ground near a large tree. He quickly knelt beside her still form and gently rolled her over into his arms. She was so cold. His heart caught in his throat. Cradling her limp, lifeless body against his, he checked for a pulse--weak and thready. He brushed the dirt from her face and the hair out of her eyes. His hand lingered as his fingers sought the bruise on her face then traced the contour of her cheek and the velvety softness of her lips. He gently kissed them--cold as ice. Hypothermia--he recognized the symptoms. He had seen a man die of hypothermia. He ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her face to his chest. 'I'm not going to lose you like this, Phil,' he vowed to himself.

He wrapped his jacket around her and held her close as he carefully eased himself to his feet. A low moan escaped from her lips. Adjusting Phil's weight in his arms, he climbed to the trail. He knew he was only a few miles from Blue Cabin. He glanced at the sky and hurried his steps.

The wind howled and rain fell in sheets by the time he saw the cabin. He was soaked and Phil was no better as he carried her into the small structure. He placed her gently on the bed against the wall and moved to the fireplace to start a fire. When that was going, he returned to the still form on the bed.

He knew he had to get her out of her soaked clothing. He rummaged through the storage closet and came back with a thin blanket. He retrieved her dry clothes from his pack. Sitting beside Phil on the bed, he carefully raised her to a sitting position in his arms and dried her hair with the blanket. He then stripped her T-shirt off; she wore nothing under it. He caught his breath as he used the blanket to dry her body, his hands shaking. He pulled her dry T-shirt over her head and fed her arms into the armholes of the shirt then laid her back down on the bunk and turned to her legs. Her boots soon joined her shirt on the floor. Her jeans were slightly harder to remove, then her panties. He dried her legs. When he had finished, he wrapped her in the blanket that had been on the bed. He brought out several more blankets from the closet and covered her with them.

By this time he was shaking all over. His hands had shaken as he dried her body. He had pictured her in his arms, but not like this. He moved to the fireplace and leaned against it. He stared into the fire. The feel of her soft skin against his hands seared his mind. In the flames of the fire he could see the ugly bruises that covered her face and her side from her breast to her hip. He couldn't feel any broken ribs, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

‘Phil, why do you have to be so stubborn? We could have worked this out without you being hurt. Why did you have to run from me? God, please, don't let her die. Please help me...help us.’ He had not prayed since he was a child ...not since his mother died.

He shook himself and moved to the radio. "This is Blue Base calling Base 1, over." He paused, then repeated his call.

"This...Base 1...you, Fraser?" The storm interfered with reception.

"Yes. I'm at Blue Cabin with Phil."

"What...doing there?..couldn't stay....her?" Ben thought he heard Darryl's laughter.

"No, it's not like that, Darryl. She didn't call in last night and I became worried. She's had an accident. I've been tracking her all day. Found her about two hours ago. She's in pretty bad shape--been knocked around, she may have some broken ribs. She's hypothermic--hasn't regained consciousness. I don't know how long she's been out. Can you get a chopper in to pick us up?" He held his breath as he waited for an answer. Finally, in what seemed like too long a pause the radio sputtered again.

"...sorry, Fraser...grounded until...storm blows...tomorrow...earliest...how bad...Phil?"

"I don't know. I'll keep you informed of any changes. Let me know as soon as you can come for us."

"...radio...no use...storm...as soon...I'll come...care of Phil...we get there."

"10-4. Fraser out." He replaced the radio handset and glanced at Phil once more.

Shivering, he moved to the fireplace and stripped his own clothes off. He spread them on the backs of a couple of chairs in front of the fire to dry. Taking the blanket he had used on Phil he dried himself. He used another blanket to wrap around himself until his clothes dried.

He moved to the bed and placed his hand on Phil's forehead. She was cold and clammy. He gathered her clothes and spread them next to his on the chairs. He put a kettle of water on to boil and grabbed an MRE from the crate in the closet. He didn't even taste the meal he bolted down.

An idea struck him and he pulled the crate of MREs over to the fire where he could examine the labels. He looked for soup or broth or something similar for Phil. The closest he found was beef stew. Opening the package he dumped the contents into a cup and added some warm water to it. He fished out the chunks of meat and vegetables until he was left with a thick soup. He thinned it further with more water. When it had reached a satisfactory consistency he moved to the bed and lifted Phil and settled her against his arm. He held the cup to her open lips and poured a small amount into her mouth. He watched carefully as she swallowed the soup. He repeated the process until she had taken most of the cup. He gently lowered her back to the bed.

He fixed himself a cup of tea with the remaining water. He pulled a chair up to the fire and turned it so he could watch Phil. It frightened him to see her so helpless. He wanted her to jump out of the bed and yell at him for following her. He wanted her to punch him again. He wanted her to do anything except lay there. He wanted her.

The desire that coursed through him was stronger than he had ever felt before. Visions of her body and the feel of her skin assaulted him. "Phil, you're driving me crazy. Why do I want you so bad? Please, Phil, don't die."

He moved his chair over next to the bed. He looked at her pale face and took her hand in his. He raised it to his lips. "Don't you leave me, Phil. How could I explain this to TJ? You have to live...think of your brothers ...think of me..."

He replaced her hand and tucked the blanket under her chin. Why wasn't she responding? Why was she still so cold?

He edged back to the fire and placed more wood on it. He leaned against the fireplace and stared into the flames. He checked Phil once more then returned to the fireplace. His clothes were almost dry when he pulled them on. He went to the door and looked out. The rain had stopped for the moment. He headed out into the lull of the storm to stock the cabin with more wood before the rain started again.

* * *

The hand on her shoulder was insistent. "Phil, wake up!" It was warm where she was and she didn't want to wake up. "Phil! Wake...Up...NOW!"

"Go -way...leave -- alone." She turned away from the voice, but it continued...

"Phil, open your eyes and look at me!"

Maybe if she complied, the voice would go away. She slowly opened one eye, then the other. Ben's glacier blue eyes smiled down at her. "Ben?" she asked.

"No." There was warmth in that voice.

Phil blinked and sat up to regard the woman sitting on the bed bedside her. "Who are you? Where am I? What..."

"Slowly...one question at a time." The woman smiled at her.

"Do I know you? You look familiar."

"No, Phil, you don't know me. My name is Caroline. I'm here to help you...and him." Caroline gestured to a figure slumped against a fireplace.

Phil rose to her feet and approached the figure. "Ben? What in hell are you doing here?" She looked around the room. Where was here? "Did you follow me? After I told Darryl I wanted to be alone!" He didn't answer her. She grasped his arm, but there was no substance there.

Frightened she turned to the woman, "Please, what's happening?" She looked back to the bed she had just left and saw...herself. Shock jolted her. This couldn't be happening. She moved to the bed. That was her body lying there. She reached out a hand, but drew it back. She stared at it--the cast was gone. Her hand went to her head then her side. "It doesn't hurt anymore!"

Caroline smiled. "Yes, Phil. For this small breath of time the pain is gone."

Phil turned to the woman. "I'm not cold, either." The woman only smiled at her. Looking at her own form on the bed and to Ben's obvious anguish, she reached the only conclusion she could. "I'm dead...and you're some kind of 'angel'?"

Caroline laughed. "No, Phil, you're not dead and, I guess you could say, I'm the answer to a prayer. I've come to help you and Ben."

"What do you mean help? Just who are you?"

There was a tender look in the eyes that reminded Phil of Ben's. "I'm Caroline Fraser. Ben's mother."

"His mother? But she's...she's..."

"Yes, I know. Death comes to us all, but the love we share with others goes on and on. It transcends even this ultimate barrier." She stood and approached her son. A distant look passed over her face as she gently stroked his face and ruffled his hair.

"He was such a good boy. Always into something." She turned a mother's smile on Phil. "The stories I could tell you...but that's for another time. Right now, you have a decision to make."

"A decision? What kind of decision?"

"One that will affect your life...and his."

The questions burned in Phil's eyes as they followed Ben when he moved to the bed and ran a hand gently over her cheek. She moved closer to him and searched his face. The fear she saw there brought a pang to her heart.

She turned to Caroline. "What decision do I have to make?"

"Whether to live or die."

"Live or die? I didn't know I had any say in the matter."

"You do this time, Phil. You can go with me now and leave behind the pain, the cold...the loneliness, the hurt you have lived with. You can leave behind your brothers who love you and you can leave behind my son, who is realizing that he loves you, too. You can go with me now and never know the love that is shared by a man and a woman. You will never know the joy of holding your own son and seeing that joy mirrored in your husband's eyes.

"You can turn your back on my son and cause him such heart-rending pain that he will never let himself care for another person as long as he lives. He will never have a wife or friends. He will die too young, alone, and lonely. You can choose to turn your back on life...and my son, and come with me. Or..."

"Or what?"

"You can choose to live. It won't be easy…for either of you. The easy way out is to come with me. But, if you want to have all those things that make life worth living, you're going to have to fight for them. You will have to go back to the pain and the cold and fight with all your strength. But, you're a fighter, aren't you? Didn't you tell Ben you didn't need his help--that you could fight your own battles--solve your own problems?"

Phil hung her head in shame. "I did say that, didn't I?"

Caroline smiled at her. "Yes, you did. Are you going to live up to your claims or prove yourself a liar?"

The sharp words caught Phil's attention. "A liar?" Was she a liar?

She turned away from the apparition of Ben's mother only to catch sight of Ben pulling his clothes on. His naked body claimed her vision and her breath. Firelight danced across his angular form and glinted on a chain around his neck. Thoughts carnal in nature stirred deep within her. She watched him move to the door and open it.

Following him out into the lull of the storm, she stared at the sky, so full of menace and power. She spoke, more to herself than anyone else, "I love storms. The wildness, the sheer beauty, the..." She searched for the right words, but all seemed inadequate.

Caroline came up beside her and placed an arm around her. "Ben loves storms, too."

Phil gazed into the blue eyes that Ben shared with his mother. "I don't know, Caroline. You say he loves me, but how do I know that's true? And I don't know if I love him."

"I know, but that's half the spice of getting to know each other--discovering your own feelings and sharing them."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Love is never easy. Frightening, exhilarating, soul consuming...love is so many things. Like the love I shared with my Robert, Ben's father," Caroline's voice softened as she mentioned her husband's name. Smiling dreamily, she asked Phil, "Do you want that love?"

Phil turned her gaze back to the man collecting firewood. Did she want his love? Did she want to fight for what Caroline had described? Did she love this man? She watched Ben gather wood and carry it into the cabin then return for more. Did she love him?

She closed her eyes and listened to her innermost self. That fleeting emotion that had disturbed her over and over again resolved itself. She didn't want to hear what it was saying. As much as she had fought it, love had stolen into her heart and was entrenched there.

"I can't hide my feelings from you, can I?" Phil asked in a whisper.

"No, Phil. That's why I'm here and why you can see me. If you didn't love my son there would be no tie that I could use to reach you and through you, him." She paused and cast a wishful glance toward Ben, "Even though I'm here, he doesn't see me. He never has. I guess he just doesn't know how to look for me." There was a deep longing in her voice. "But you and I share a love for him and that opens your eyes so you can see me."

"So, I can go back to him?" At Caroline's nod, Phil asked, "What do I have to do?"

"Just go back in there, climb into that bed, and fight your way up out of that warm spot you've found."

"That's all?"

"That's all. It won't happen all at once. You have quite a struggle ahead of you."

"I don't know if I can."

"You can, if you want what my Ben can give you."

Phil looked at Caroline then to Ben as he carried another armful of wood into the cabin. The smile she turned on Caroline was a bit crooked, but it held hope. "My brothers always told me I was stubborn. They even said that death would have to take me kicking and screaming." She laughed, "I guess they were right. I'm ready. I think, no...I want my life back."

"That's the spirit Phil. One last thing..." Phil turned back to her. "You won't have a clear memory of this."

"I won't remember meeting you and talking with you?"

"You'll remember some things, but they will be part of your delirium. You won't remember anything about Ben's love for you--or yours for him."

"Why not?"

"Why spoil the adventure the two of you can have as you discover your feelings for one another. That's a part of falling in love. Neither you nor my son will be cheated of that! Now, go back in there and fight for yourself and fight for Ben."

Phil approached Ben's mother. "Thank you, Caroline. Thank you for helping me." She quickly hugged the woman then raced back into the cabin.

Caroline watched Phil's departure. She approached Ben. "Ben, my precious son. I've done all I can. Now it's up to you and Phil. Your life together will not be easy. You've got major obstacles to overcome. Don't let them bring you down." She gazed sadly at her son. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you as you grew up, but you've turned into a fine man. I'm so proud of you." She reached out to stroke his face one last time then was gone.

* * *

Ben dumped his last load of wood into the woodbin beside the door. As he brushed his hands off, he heard a noise from the direction of the bed. He approached it to find Phil struggling with the blankets that covered her. "So cold...so cold...freezing..." She was conscious, sort of.

He knelt beside the bed. "Phil? Can you hear me?"

"It's so cold..." Her brown eyes turned toward his voice. "T? I'm so cold... thirsty...hurt..." The moment of clarity was replaced by a confused, distant look. She turned away from him and continued to fidget.

He got a cup of water and, raising her against his arm, managed to get some down her. She drank it in gulps. "Slowly, Phil. Take it slowly." He returned her to the bed. He sat the cup aside then removed the blankets he had covered her with and rearranged the one he had wrapped her in. He stroked her brow. Her body was still cold.

"T?" She seemed to quieten under his hand.

"I'm here, Phil. I won't leave you. I won't ever leave you." Realization struck him. He didn't want to leave her, ever. He loved her. Replacing the blankets, he stood and moved back to the fireplace.

"No, I can't love her. I love Cat." But Cat had said that they weren't soul mates. Could Phil be his soul mate? "Cat, is this what you meant? How am I supposed to know? Cat, I wish you were here." He was shaken. He had never planned this. He was only here for the training. What was he thinking of? Phil had a life here. He couldn't ask her to give that up. What was he going to do?

He turned back to the bed as Phil's movements became more pronounced. Moans punctuated her tossing. Moving to the bed, he took her into his arms and began to rock her. He hummed a tune he remembered from his childhood--something his mother had sung to him. Singing a few bars to her, she relaxed in his hold. Glancing down at her face, he saw her eyes open, looking at him.

"Ben?" She licked her lips, "Ben... where...what..."

"Shush, my love. You're safe. I'll take care of you."

"Ben, don't leave me. Please, don't you leave me." The words flowed from her.

"I won't ever leave you, Phil." He smiled down at her. "You'll have to drive me away with a whip to get me to leave you. And I'd come right back."

The softest, brownest eyes he had ever seen slowly closed. Phil snuggled closer to him and turned her face to his chest. She was still so cold. Her breathing slowed as she slipped into unconsciousness. He lowered her to the bed and detached her hand from the front of his shirt. Standing, he took a deep breath and watched her. She was becoming restless again. Nothing he had done had warmed her body. He moved to the fireplace and shed his clothes. He came back to the bed and, lifting the blankets covering Phil, crawled in beside her. She turned to him and snuggled close to his body drawing the warmth from him.

At last, he had her in bed with him. He held her body close to his, kissing her face, and running his hand down her back to where her T-shirt ended and he felt bare skin. His hand stopped, then moved back to the center of her back. She rolled over and spooned her back against his chest and stomach. The restless movements ceased and Ben swore he heard a sigh. He lay there holding the woman he loved in his arms. He listened to every breath she took, shook with each cough, and whispered to her when she became restless.

Her closeness was affecting him. He could smell the lavender of her shampoo through the damp rain smell of her hair. Her bare legs and buttocks were tucked next to his bare thighs. His hands brushed her breasts as he held her close to him. Desire for her raged through his loins. He felt his body respond. He hurt so badly. He wanted her.

His hand moved of it's own volition down to her thighs and stroked the bare skin there. His hand moved between her legs and cupped her flesh. He groaned. No...when he made love to her he wanted her as a willing participant...not a cold, unconscious, limp doll. His hand moved back to the safety of her T-shirt. He buried his face in the back of her neck and the sobs of his despair joined with the shudders of his desire.

* * *

Hot...it was so hot. He was holding a smoldering log, the heat radiating from it scorching him. Ben came soddenly awake. He was so tired.

It took but a moment to realize where he was--in bed with Phil in his arms. She had not moved while he slept. He was spooned against her back, his arm draped over her side, hand cupped around her breast. He could feel her rapid heartbeat and the heat from her fevered body. She was so hot. Trying not to disturb her, he felt her face, her neck trying to determine how high a fever she had. It was too high.

Phil moaned and opened her eyes, "Bobber? Bobber? The ice is breaking... Bobber?" She was deep in a delirium.

"Everything's alright, Phil. I've got you."

"Bobber? Bobber? TJ? TJ...where's Bobber? Where's Rob?"

"Shush, Flip. Rob's all right. Rob's right here." He went along with her ravings. She closed her eyes and moaned deep in her throat. He held her close and felt the tears on his cheeks.

First she was freezing and now she was burning up. He had to do something to bring her temperature down. He carefully slid out of the bed and moved to the fireplace. He placed more wood on the fire. Pulling his clothes on, he went to the door and looked out. The storm seemed to take an intense pleasure in battering the small cabin.

He closed the door and leaned against it. He knew what he had to do. "Please forgive me, Phil. I never intended to invade your privacy like I have. Phil, I'm sorry."

He moved to the sink and pumped some water into a large wash basin. Carrying it to the bed, he went in search of the blanket with which he had dried Phil. He tore it into several pieces. Returning to the bed, he pulled the blankets off her restless body. He stripped her T-shirt off and, using the remnants, bathed her body with the cold water.

He lost track of time and the number of basins of cold water used. Numbing his mind, he drenched her body repeatedly with the cold water. She shuddered one final time and went limp. Ben was immediately at her throat. A pulse still beat...faintly. He straightened and wrapped his arms around himself. He was going to lose her before he could even tell her how much she meant to him...how much he loved her.

He felt her face and neck, his hands shaking. Was she cooler to the touch? He couldn't be sure. He had to take a break for a few minutes. His mind was so foggy he could easily make a mistake that might cost Phil her life. He covered her with a blanket and staggered to the fireplace. Automatically he laid more wood on it. Collapsing in a chair, he covered his face with his hands and gave into his fears and despair. The storm outside was a gentle spring shower compared to the storm raging in his soul. Tears streaked his face. He wiped at them savagely. His father had taught him that men never cried. Still, the tears continued unabated. He turned his back on the bed and the woman there. He couldn't watch her die. He felt a part of himself begin to whither. A pain settled in the region of his heart.

He must have fallen asleep in the chair. He opened his eyes to see wan, pallid sunlight streaking through the window. He felt as if a part of himself had died with Phil. His glance at her told him all he needed to know. She had died during the night while he slept.

'Why couldn't I have stayed awake with her? Not let her die alone!' The pain in his chest threatened to overwhelm all else. He wanted to die. Giving in to his despair, he buried his face in his hands and grieved for Phil and the love they would never share.

"Ben?"

Through his self-imposed mourning he heard his name whispered. Why did his mind torture himself with that voice? Its husky timbers were etched on his heart forever.

"Ben?" The whisper was slightly louder.

In pain, he lashed out. "Leave me alone. Don't use her voice. I can't take it anymore."

"T? Where are you, Ben? Did you leave me? T, YOU LEFT ME!" The whisper was now a cry. It did not echo in his mind, it came from the bed he had turned his back on.

The chair flew over backwards as he scrambled to the bed. "Phil, I'm here. Don't you leave me." He knelt beside the bed and smoothed the hair from her face.

"Ben? You didn't leave me?"

"No, Phil. I told you I would never leave you." He stroked her forehead, cool now to the touch. The raging fever of last night had broken.

"Ben, you didn't leave me? You didn't go back to Canada?"

How could he answer that question? "No, my love, I'm here with you." They could deal with Canada later. Right now he wanted to hold her in his arms. He sent a prayer of thanks spiraling upward as he cradled Phil close to his heart. This time the kiss he gave her was met with warmth. She tasted of...of Phil. There was no describing the sweetness of her kiss.

To be continued (?)

Copyright November 1996 by SL Haas

Revised April 1999

1. On a Collision Course
2. Nocturnal Duet
3. Jumping to Conclusions
4. "In the Kiss of One Girl"
5. Real Conversations
6. Icnites, Montmorillonite, and Bentonite, Oh My!
7. An Acquired Taste
8. "…a Dish Best Served Cold"
9. Like Thunder When It Rains
10. Steppingstones
11. The First Consciousness
12. An Answered Dream
13. Since We Parted
14. The Fine Line That Separates
15. Moments of Regret
16. Benton's Secret