“I need to clean your back.” Might as well get the worst part over and done with.
Wordlessly, she dropped the blanket off her shoulders and looked away.
The second he lifted the back of her torn shirt, she jumped. Threads of it stuck. He winced as fresh blood trickled from her scab-encrusted shoulder blades. Empathy brought the same feeling to his shoulders. He had been here before, once due to a stunt on his Harley motorcycle and again due to that rope swing over the river when he was a know-it-all kid. He looked closer, not believing what else he saw. Oh, hell ….
He tugged the shirt off, leaving nothing above her waist but her bra. Those shoulders had taken the brunt of something else long before the road rash. He bristled. Ugly scars marked her skin. Some were too pink to be very old. He knew cigarette burns when he saw them. That explained the other marks on her arms, too.
Compassion glimmered. This woman might have fallen off a bike or out of a car a couple of days ago, but someone had hurting her before that. His conscience pricked him. In a flash, his demeanor softened, and he wanted to kick himself. His irritation vanished in a rush of sympathy—and shame.
Damn. This gal needs help.
The truth had finally broken through his hard head. This poor woman needed more than just help. She needed somebody to care. Kelsey hadn’t asked to be here anymore than she had asked for the abuse he saw heaped on her back. For all Alex’s complaining and feeling sorry for himself, he wasn’t much better. Poor kid.
Just as quickly, recrimination followed. I’m such an ass.
“Listen. I’m going to put some antiseptic ointment on these scrapes.” At last, he found his gentle voice. “It will deaden the pain. Then we’ll get you changed into something clean. I’ve got a pair of spare sweats in the back, if you don’t mind me helping you out of these dirty clothes.”
She didn’t agree or disagree. It looked like she could barely hang onto the edge of the cot; she was trembling so hard. Alex covered her with the blanket as he removed her cutoffs. By the time he was through, she sat shivering in nothing but her underwear, looking like a survivor plucked from a natural disaster—or a man who beat his wife.
Alex moved more efficiently now. In no time at all, he cleaned and spread ointment, making sure to keep her covered as he went. Her legs were the least damaged. On closer inspection, he noticed gravel imbedded there as well. The nearest gravel road was eight miles back. He cleaned and analyzed, then cleaned some more. If she had fallen or been pushed out of a car on that road, she had certainly walked a long way.
Her words came back to him. “I had to run.” From who? Or what?
He looked up from two skinned knees. “We’re almost done. Can you hang on for just a couple more minutes?”
Again, she didn’t answer.
With unexpected patience, Alex turned his limited nursing expertise to her battered face. He began awkwardly, wrapping a towel around her neck so he wouldn’t get the blanket wet. That’s when he truly realized the intimacy involved in the care and washing of another human being, especially one as vulnerable as this woman.
She squeezed her eyes tight when he moved in close. With a quiet gasp, she held her breath Suddenly, and he was back in an Iraqi village, trying to help a little girl who had been injured when an insurgent’s improvised bomb exploded in her village. Kelsey had that same look. As much as she needed help, she was scared. Of him.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m just going to clean your face.” He wanted to reassure her, but it was too late. He had already made too much of a negative impression.
Alex blew out a long, slow breath. The more he handled her, the more he realized his hands were too large and too rough for this kind of work. He was a pipe wrench performing delicate surgery on a china cup.
His sweet wife’s admonition on the night of his daughter’s birth came back to him. “Sweetheart, she’s not going to break.”
His heart stuttered. Sara? He hadn’t thought of that night in years. Why now?
As he smoothed the cloth over Kelsey’s forehead and cheeks, he was close enough to notice the long eyelashes beneath a puffy eyelid. Squeezing a dribble of water against the sealed eyelid, the dried blood softened enough to be wiped away. He did everything with extra gentleness now, but she still trembled.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked softly.
“No.” Her one word answer came out squeaky, fast, and sad. Again, he felt ashamed. This poor woman was primed to fight or flee—from him. Not a response he was proud of. The last thing she needed was another monster in her life.
“I’ll fix some soup when we’re done. Do you think you can eat?”
She sniffed, her one clean hand to her nose.
Very gently, he stretched a butterfly band-aid across her split cheekbone and placed another band-aid over the cut above her swollen eye, just beside the arch of a delicate brow. Her petite nose sported a smattering of brown freckles and shouldn’t have been as full of dried blood and dirt as it was. As angry as he was at the person who had hurt this petite woman, he was angrier with himself. He had acted badly today.
It was too much for her. She pushed his hand away and took a deep breath through her mouth. “Do-do you have a tissue?”
“You bet.” He scrambled for a paper towel, and then thought better of it and dampened it with cool water before he handed it to her. She was shaking so hard she could barely blow her nose, but he saw the blood.
He braced a hand to her shoulder. “I’m almost done. Let me check your lip, and we’ll call it good.” By now, Alex was nose to nose with her. He held a damp cloth to a lip that was swollen and split. He had been in enough brawls to know this kind of wound well. He just hadn’t seen it on such a delicate face before.
“Ouch,” she said softly when he smoothed a layer of ointment over her lips.
“Sorry.” He tried to be more careful. “Did someone hit you or something? Did you fall?”
“I sat down ….” She glanced toward the door. “Out there.”
“Right. You were on my porch. Is that all you remember?”
“A bear.” She nodded toward Whisper. “A big bear.”
“That’s just my dog,” he offered her a glass of salt water to rinse her mouth. “He won’t hurt you. Here. Swish this around and spit it out.” He held the washbasin so she could spit the blood from her mouth. That’s when he saw her teeth were bloodied as well. Probably loose, too.
“Thank you,” she whispered, wiping her mouth.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Looks like you’ve been through a pretty hard time.”
She was in rough shape, but at least she was halfway clean. She still wouldn’t look at him though.
“You had enough for one night?”
“Yes.” She shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
“Good. Let’s get you into some clean clothes. Come on. I’ll help you up.”
She rose shaky from the cot, balancing with both hands on his shoulders while he eased her into a pair of his old grey sweats. They were way too large, but at least they were clean and warm. They would do for tonight. That’s when he saw the bloody patch on her hip. There was one more scrape to wash and treat.
“Looks like we missed one. Lie back down and let me treat your hip. Then you’ll be done.”
“No.” She pushed him away. At least she tired to push him away. In the process, she plopped gracelessly onto the cot, off balance and exhausted. “I don’t want you to.”
“Come on. It’ll heal faster if it’s clean.” This time, his concern was genuine. “I promise. I won’t hurt you.”
“No-o.” Another tear squeezed from her puffy eye. “Please. I just don’t want to.”
He knew that look. “It’s okay. I won’t do anything you don’t want. Maybe tomorrow.”
She still didn’t look at him, her gaze fixed on the floor planks.
Well, I deserved that. Why should she look me in the eye? What was I thinking? She just needed help. That’s a
ll. It’s not like she had broken in and stolen anything.
Dinner was quick and hot, just a cup of noodle soup and crackers, but putting something in her stomach did the trick, along with a few Advil. She had no more than emptied her cup of soup when her eyes drooped, and she slumped to the pillow.
Alex was straightening the kitchen area when he noticed Whisper had made himself comfortable on the cot. Kelsey held the big dog like a teddy bear, her arm wrapped around his neck, her face buried in his fluffy black mane. That’s when Alex heard it—the saddest sound he had heard in a long time as this stranger wept into his dog’s neck. Her stifled sobs filled Alex’s ears as quickly as it filled the cabin. Sympathy lanced the hard-as-nails crust over his heart. He wanted to hug her himself and tell her everything would be okay, but Kelsey was already in good hands, or paws rather.
Whisper laid his muzzle across her neck, his sharp black eyes focused on Alex as if telling him, “It’s okay. I found her first, and I’ve got her now. She’s mine.”
Alex let the dog stay. Kelsey needed a security blanket tonight. By the looks of it, Whisper sensed it, too.
Three
Alex
Alex sat on the floor, watching his patient sleep. Kelsey was restless. She moaned out a name, but he couldn’t decipher the mumble. There was no doubt in his mind she suffered from dehydration and exposure. The poor woman had to be hurting more then she had shown, but it was also clear someone had used her face as a punching bag within the last week and abused her long before that. He hadn’t seen any defensive wounds on her arms or hands. Why hadn’t she fought back?
She would be a pretty little thing if she didn’t look like she had just been through a war. Although she had avoided looking at him most of the evening, he knew there were dark brown eyes beneath those long lashes and swollen eyelids. He could also tell she didn’t care what happened to her. True, she had let him scrub her wounds until she was semi-clean and sore, and she had said thanks, but he didn’t get the feeling she meant it. Her whole attitude was more like ‘do what you want’ instead of ‘please, help me.’ Alex recognized the look. He could write a book on hopelessness.
His mind worked through different scenarios of the trouble she might be in: prostitution, gangs, or drugs, but Kelsey didn’t seem the type. No. There was a genteel quality to her that spoke more of sadness than anything else.
A sudden burst of wind kicked up against the cabin, slamming the screen door back and forth on its hinges. She jumped in her sleep; her hand to her mouth as if she might cry. She didn’t. Instead she let out a small groan that was instantly lost in the sound of rain drumming loud and hard against the windows. Alex stood over her. How did a woman like her get into so much trouble?
He couldn’t solve that puzzle, so he secured the door and planned his next day’s chores instead. First thing in the morning, he planned to hike back to the gas station, call the sheriff, and let the authorities take over. While he waited for the sheriff to show he could rig a shower so she could get that hip of hers cleaned, maybe wash her hair, too. Being clean always improved a person’s outlook.
He took out his cell phone and snapped a couple pictures of her battered face for evidence, berating himself for not thinking of that earlier when she had looked a whole lot worse. That would have been the smart thing, but no, he was too caught up in feeling sorry for himself then. Guilt poked at him. He should have handled finding her a whole lot better.
An inexplicable wave of tenderness inundated him. His unwelcome houseguest was sound asleep. For tonight, she was safe and warm, guarded by two working dogs and one grouchy ex-Marine. He tucked the blanket under her chin. She didn’t move, but something stirred inside of him. He brushed a strand of dirty hair off her clean face. Realization flooded a part of his heart he thought had long ago died.
She needed him.
By morning, the sun shone bright through the high trees. Kelsey was still sound asleep when he got up, and Alex felt better about going for help this morning. She wasn’t as close to death’s door as he had thought. When he cracked the door to his bedroom, she still lay on her side, with one hand on Whisper. The dog had moved to the floor beside her. He didn’t budge when Alex quietly gathered his boots. With his muzzle on his chin, Whisper watched his master intently.
Alex scribbled a note on an old scrap of paper so Kelsey would know that he had gone for help and would be back soon. He left the last of his bottles of water and the Advil on his counter. She would need them the minute she opened her eyes. He paused to listen to her breathing, slow and steady with no whimper or congestion. A little food and water had gone a long way. A little soap hadn’t hurt either. Overall, she had a few bumps and some nasty scrape, but last night could have turned out a whole lot worse.
He opened the cabin door and whispered to the dogs, “Out.” After they took care of their business and rousted a few chipmunks from last year’s woodpile, he ushered them quietly back into the cabin. “Stay.”
Once again, Whisper took up his post at Kelsey’s side. Crazy dog. There was definitely something going on between him and this woman, although most of it was probably in Whisper’s hard head. Kelsey would be in good company until he got back, and that’s all that mattered. Slinging his backpack over on shoulder, he shut the door quietly and locked it from the outside, just in case. He didn’t need any more surprises. Neither did she.
As he hiked back to the service station, he discovered last night’s storm had caused quite a bit of damage. Trees were torn up, branches scattered everywhere, and when he crossed the road to the gas station, he noticed the power lines were down as well. Mother Nature had left a trail of destruction. To top it off, local phone service was out.
Fortunately, the clerk at the station had shown up to check his business for storm damage. He was in the middle of clearing fallen branches and shingles out of the parking lot when Alex stepped out of the trees. According to the clerk, it would take a month of Sundays before utilities this far out in the woods were back online.
Alex listened to the man ramble. It was then he noticed the flyer taped inside the store window. Kelsey’s sad eyes stared back at him from behind the glass.
“What’s her story?” He nodded toward the picture, downplaying his interest.
The man shook his head. “She’s a mean one by the sounds of it. Got an Amber Alert on her two little boys, too.”
“Why’s that?” Alex asked evenly.
“Guess she up and run off. Left her husband. Poor man’s been looking for her over a week now.”
He studied the flyer. Kelsey Durrant. According to the paper, she was five feet tall, long brown hair, brown-eyed and twenty-six years old. Known to have psychotic breaks. Left home with her two young sons in a 1978 blue Ford Fairmont. The active Amber Alert taped alongside Kelsey’s picture showed two little boys, Tommy and Jackie, ages two and four respectively. Their last known location was listed as their apartment in Lakewood, Washington. No description of what she or her boys were wearing was included.
“Yeah,” the talkative clerk continued, “Channel Five had a press conference a couple days ago for the poor fellow. He was all tore up and crying. It’s a shame is what it is. A guy thinks he’s marrying the girl of his dreams, and he ends up with some lunatic, you know what I mean?”
Alex hesitated. His gut told him different. There was more to her than the flyer disclosed. His plan to contact the authorities didn’t feel like the right thing to do anymore. Instead, he talked the clerk into opening the store for a couple items— antiseptic ointment, sterile gauze, a travel-sized bottle of baby shampoo, a hairbrush, and a small ladies T-shirt. He topped off his pack with a pound of bacon, a dozen eggs, and a loaf of bread.
“Looks like your lady friend musta forgot to bring her beauty supplies,” the nosy clerk commented at the cash register.
“Dan Fletcher still own this place?” Alex changed the subject. Nobody needed to know he had that missing woman safe and sound in his cabin.
Th
e clerk’s eyes brightened. “You know Dan? Sure, he still owns this place. I reckon he’ll be in later to see how much damage the storm did.”
“Tell him Alex stopped by, will you?”
“That your truck out there?”
Alex nodded.
“Well, I’ll be. Dan’s always talking ‘bout you. Sure glad I got the chance to meet one of the guys he served with.” He extended a hand for Alex to shake. “I’m Pete Sanders by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Pete.” Alex returned the handshake. “Tell Dan thanks letting me park here for a couple days.”
“Sure. No problem. Lots of guys leave their rigs here.”
“Keep the change.” Alex handed over several twenties. “Something extra for opening the store for me. I appreciate it.”
Pete waved the money off. “Sorry, but your money ain’t no good around here. Dan wouldn’t take it, and neither will I.”
“He still as hard-headed as he used to be?” Alex chuckled as he stuffed the bills back into his pocket.
“He’s a good man.” Pete nodded. “You take care.”
“You, too.” Alex nodded as he placed his purchases inside his backpack, the eggs on top, and headed back to the cabin. He checked the bars on his cell phone. Fortunately, the cell tower must have survived the storm unscathed. That was a welcome break, but instead of contacting the local authorities like he planned, Alex called his right-hand man. The forest made for a good office.
“You miss us already?” Murphy was his usual cheerful self.
“Need you to run a background check, Murph.”
“What? You working a case out there in the Cascades, are you?”
Alex ignored the friendly banter. “I’m sending a couple pictures. See what you can find on a missing woman in the Tacoma and Seattle area. Name is Kelsey Durrant.”
Alex (In the Company of Snipers) Page 3
