by Ivy Jordan
Chapter Two
Bailey
My eyes ached as they opened. Everything ached. I looked around the room from the bed where I was laying. I didn’t remember coming here. I didn’t remember any of this. Where the hell was I?
I scooted up in the bed, realizing the pain in my hip and my leg. When my leg slid to the side of the bed, it felt as though it ripped from my hip socket. I struggled not to scream out in agony, but I couldn’t contain the low grunt that rolled from my throat. My head was still foggy, but I knew this place wasn’t familiar, and panic set in as I planned my escape.
My eyes scanned the room, quickly finding the front door. I stood, letting my weight bear down on the pain, but not willing to scream out for fear I’d alert my captor.
I pulled myself towards the door, dragging my left leg and doing my best not to put all of my weight on my left hip. My hands shook from the pain as they reached out to the door. Gripping the door knob, I got my first glimpse of the dark from the small window to my right. It was pitch black, no street lights, no lights from other houses, nothing.
“I didn’t hear you get up,” a male voice sent shivers down my spine, causing me to jump. I shrieked in pain and fear as my eyes moved towards a tall, scruffy man, with long hair that was wild as the sky in a storm. He looked confused, maybe concerned, it didn’t matter. I didn’t know him. I didn’t know what I was doing here. I didn’t even know where ‘here’ was.
As he moved towards me, his thick muscles caught the dim light of the room, showing off the artwork etched with ink into his skin. He smiled, his teeth straight, white, and nothing like I’d expected from his rough appearance.
“Don’t come any closer,” I screeched, lifting my hand from the door knob and lowering it into a copper bucket near the door. I grabbed the object sticking out from it, long, black, and what I thought possible a weapon. I swung it around in front of me, trying my best not to lose my footing as I realized it was only an umbrella.
The man stopped, his smile widened, and a chuckle rolled from his lips. “I’m serious, stay back. I’m not afraid to use this,” I yelled out to the man who seemed more amused with me than fearful.
“You’ll use that, huh?” he moved across the floor. He picked up a coffee cup from the ornate carved table by the fireplace. I watched him as he moved to the large fireplace that looked to have lost most of its once fierce roar of a flame. He gripped a tin pot that hung above the cinders, poured coffee into his cup, and then turned to me. “Coffee?” he asked as if we were old friends and I’d stopped by for a visit.
“No,” I muttered, shifting my weight to release some of the pain from standing. “I want to leave,” I said, almost as if I were asking his permission. He didn’t come towards me, threaten me, or even act as if he were interested in stopping me, but something froze me to that spot by the door.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, but you can leave if ya want to,” he smiled, then moved to the couch centered in the room. His back was to me, so I lowered the umbrella back into its copper bucket, and gripped the door knob once again. “Although, while you were sleeping, nearly ten inches of snow came down. Not sure you’re gonna make it very far, even if you didn’t have a hurt leg,” he said calmly, not even bothering to turn to me.
I snickered at the man, not willing to fall for his games. I turned the knob, opened the door to a fierce wind, pitch black skies, and snow so deep that it fell into the cabin and onto my feet. He laughed, again with amusement. “Where the fuck am I?” I demanded.
“You’re safe,” he replied, turning to offer a smile.
I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t know where I was, or how I got here. I was… where was I before I got here? My head felt foggy, and for some reason I couldn’t place myself anywhere before waking up in this strange cabin with this man. I couldn’t place myself anywhere before I got here.
“Come have a seat and get off that leg. I need to check your head bandage anyway,” he insisted.
My head bandage? I lifted my hand to my head, pushing my hair away from my forehead to feel the bandage attached to my skin. I cringed as my fingers rolled across the sore wound. That explains why I couldn’t remember—I hit my head. But it still didn’t explain what I was doing here.
His hand patted the cushion on the couch beside him. My weight was pushing my pain to heights I couldn’t handle much longer. I felt myself start to give in, to just fall, but I wasn’t ready to admit defeat just yet. I strained, pushing a loud yell from my lips that caused the man to stand quickly from his seat and move towards me.
I couldn’t run. I could barely stand.
Tension tightened in my shoulders as his strong arm wrapped around me, pushing under my arms to support my weight.
Up close, in the glow of the fireplace light, he was handsome—rugged, but extremely handsome. His smile was warm, kind, and for some reason eased my tension and offered some relief. I let him help me to the couch where I sat as he’d suggested moments earlier.
The cabin was one large room, the bed I’d woken up in pushed against the far left corner. A large fireplace was the focal point with the couch we sat on placed directly in front of the flickering flames. A kitchen was pushed off to the side. It was simple with just a small black refrigerator, an old gas stove, and a stainless steel sink big enough to bathe in. There were candles placed throughout the cabin, all burnt to at least half way down.
“No electricity?” I asked, not turning to look at the man who sat beside me, but instead, continuing to scan the room for clues as to where I was.
“It was a bad storm. No one was expecting it, not even you, I suppose,” he answered.
What had I done, or not done, to plan for this unexpected storm? He still hadn’t told me how I got here. I turned towards him. His long, shaggy, blond hair glowed against the flame that began to revive under the large black log that once smothered it. He had light blue eyes with speckles of gold that glistened and danced along with the growing fire. If I’d met him before, I knew I’d remember. There would be no way to forget a man so handsome as the stranger beside me.
Chapter Three
Xander
The frail woman I found on the path below my cabin woke up to be an alley cat. Her fire red hair frizzed from its braid, her full lips tightened, and her green eyes were filled with fear. Even though she was obviously scared, she impressed me with her bold and feisty demeanor.
I hadn’t been aware of her leg injury until I watched her struggle to stand. The pain she was suffering from didn’t stop her spunk. “How’s that leg?” I asked, avoiding making any movement towards her.
The bruise on her cheek covered what looked to be a cluster of freckles. Cute. The bandage I’d placed on her forehead was starting to loosen, and the blood from her wound was showing through. She reached down, rubbing her left leg, and moaned as her hand pressed against her thigh. “I don’t know. It hurts,” she grumbled. “My hip feels broken too,” she added, struggling to situate comfortably on the couch.
“Can I take a look?” I asked, glancing down at her jeans, not spotting any blood. She’d taken a good fall. If her hip was in fact broken, or her leg, I could tend to it well enough with my SEAL training, but I knew I’d have to figure out a way to get her off this mountain and to a hospital quick.
“How did I get here?” she asked, ignoring my concern about her injuries.
“I found you about a half mile or so down the mountain. You fell. Just lucky I was outside when you were still able to cry out for help,” I explained, even though she didn’t actually call out for help. Her moans were enough to send me on the hunt, but they were nearly shrugged off as wild creatures. I hadn’t been here long enough to know everything that lived on this mountain.
“How long have I been here?” she asked, her head falling into her hands.
“About eight hours,” I replied.
She lifted her head, staring into me with the greenest eyes I’d ever saw. I couldn’t tell if she was about to cry or curse
me out again. I was hoping for the latter. I wasn’t good with crying women. Too gruff, or so I’d been told.
“I bandaged your head and tried waking you, but you were out cold. I didn’t think I could make it to the bottom of the mountain before the storm took hold, so I brought you here,” I filled her in on some of the details. I was still curious about the other details, like who she was, and why on earth she was on that path alone with no phone, no identification, and no regard for the grey skies that lurked above her as she ascended the path.
“What was I doing there?” she asked, a strange confusion filling in her eyes. That was my question.
“Hiking, I assume. Although, I wasn’t sure why in this weather, and alone without any phone,” I shrugged.
“There wasn’t anyone with me?” she questioned, as if she thought there should be.
“I didn’t see anyone. Was someone with you?” I asked, now worried that I’d left someone on the path and under this ten inches of snow.
She shrugged her shoulders and let out a sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I did check both sides of the path, and I didn’t see anyone,” I offered as some relief. She didn’t seem relieved. Her eyebrows pushed down on her face, and her bottom lip slid under her top teeth. She looked confused about something, but I wasn’t sure what. “I didn’t mean to intrude by looking in your bag. I just wanted to find out who you were, find a phone so I could call someone, to let them know you were safe,” I proclaimed.
Her head shook slightly, and her eyes started to fill with tears. Shit, here comes the waterworks. “Is there someone I can call?” I asked.
Large tears flopped from her eyes as her head continued to shake. “I don’t know,” she sobbed, pushing her head into her hands.
Panic set into my bones like arthritis as I struggled with what to do, what to say. My hand slid to her back to offer some comfort, but she quickly jerked away, rejecting my attempt to console her.
“There has to be someone,” I offered, returning to my own space on the couch beside her.
“That’s just it. If there is someone, I can’t remember who that is,” she sobbed, her eyes wide and red as they locked onto mine.
“You can’t remember?” I questioned curiously.
Her head shook as more tears found their way down her rosy cheeks. She really was a beautiful woman, even filled with grief. “You hit your head pretty good, so maybe a bit more rest, and you’ll remember,” I assured her.
Her lips curled into a half-smile, and her eyes brightened with what appeared to be a gleam of hope. “Let’s start with the easy stuff. What’s your name?” I asked, figuring that would be a no-brainer.
Her stare was distant, as if she were in deep thought of a long past memory. A few seconds went by, and no more tears rolled from her eyes, but she looked more frustrated than before. Her lips parted, a soft sigh escaped her mouth, and then she leaned back onto the couch. “I don’t know,” she whispered, still staring out into space.
“Okay. No need to panic. It’s probably just the trauma,” I smiled, standing from the couch and heading quickly into the bathroom. “I’ll get you some medicine to reduce swelling,” I called to her as I rummaged through my medicine chest for the steroids the doctor had given me for my knee. I wasn’t a doctor, but in the military, we learned to improvise. I knew how to improvise with almost anything, but a woman found on the path below my cabin with no memory? That was a new one.
I found the small white pills with just the light of the candle above the toilet and grabbed a bottle of water on my way back to the couch. “What’s this?” she questioned.
“Prednisone,” I explained. “They’ll help with inflammation, and hopefully help with your memory loss,” I smiled, pushing the pills and the water towards her.
She appeared reluctant, but took the pills anyway. She swallowed three of them and took a large swig of water to wash them down. I couldn’t imagine what was going on inside of her head, if anything. How could she not remember anything, not even her name?
“I have to call you something,” I sighed. “I’m Xander,” I formally introduced myself to the woman who’d slept in my bed for the last eight hours.
“Thank you for everything,” she said so softly I could barely hear. “I don’t know what you could call me,” she almost giggled, but then swallowed hard as tears formed in her eyes once again.
It was obvious, whoever she was, she had spunk and a sense of humor, two things I’d always admired in women. “I’ll spout off some names, you tell me if any of them sound right,” I suggested and then immediately began rambling names. Jessica, Mary, Cindy, Lana, Pauline, and Teresa were all a quick head shake, and at times, a wrinkled nose to go along with it. “Bailey.” I continued. This time she didn’t shake her head, but instead paused on my eyes with a new expression. Her head nodded, and a slight smile appeared on her lips. “Nice to meet you, Bailey,” I smiled, extending my hand to hers.
It was a relief to have a name for her, even if it may not be correct. It was one that she liked, connected to, or at least found familiar. Bailey it is.
“Why don’t we get you back to bed, and I’ll make you some dinner,” I offered, standing from the couch and extending my hand to her yet again. I was slightly surprised at how quickly she accepted my help, especially since she’d been so stubborn earlier.
“I really should get to the hospital. What if someone’s looking for me?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.
“I’m afraid if anyone’s looking for you, they aren’t doing it up here. The storm’s gotten worse, and there’s no way to get up or down this mountain,” I explained. I could get down from this mountain if I wanted to, but with Bailey to keep safe, it wasn’t worth the risk. She’d be just fine resting here, and after the storm, we’d find out who she really was and if someone was looking for her.
No ring on her finger told me she wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t attached. She was old enough to be out of college and away from home, but still may have lived with parents. Nothing about her gave me clues as to her profession, her lifestyle, or her life. I knew she liked to hike, didn’t watch the weather, and was stubborn, spunky, and beautiful.
Bailey reluctantly agreed to allow me to help her back into the bed. She could barely walk, and it was clear her ankle was starting to swell as she hobbled along. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms, to carry her the rest of the way, but I feared she may find that a little too intrusive, so I let her walk.
She thanked me again as I tucked her into bed. I left her bottle of water on the nightstand and retreated into the kitchen to heat up the fish I’d made for dinner earlier that day.
I hoped she’d remember more in the morning, not only for her sake, but mine as well. I hated mystery. I liked knowing what was going on at all times. Ever since I left the SEALs, I wasn’t a fan of surprises.
Chapter Four
Bailey
My eyes opened to darkness. Only a small flame in the fireplace, and one lit candle across the room offered a glimpse to my surroundings. The large room was familiar, and the man with long shaggy blonde hair and goatee on the couch was a warm relief to see, even though it was only his silhouette.
I knew it was obvious he’d rescued me, saved me from a cold, horrible death on that trail below his cabin. My knight in shining plaid. I giggled to myself as I struggled to sit up in the bed. Everything hurt worse than I’d remembered when falling asleep. My bladder was full, pushing against other organs and creating a cramp that made me fear to move.
The small door to the bathroom was across the room, only a few steps, but might as well be a thousand miles. My hip burnt as I tried to slide my leg from the bed, causing me to let out a moan. I looked towards the silhouette on the couch. It appeared to stir, but remained lying down.
It had to be extremely early since the sun hadn’t yet come out. Looking out the window, I noticed the glow of white from the snow that had fallen on the ground. I hoped it
was over, that the storm had finally passed, and that I’d be able to make it down this mountain. I still wasn’t sure where I was going once I left or who would be waiting for me. Everything seemed foggy.
I bit down, and tried moving once again. The stiffness from the swelling in my hip and ankle prevented me from lifting up on my own. Xander, my savior, was still silent on the couch across the room. I knew I needed help, but I hated to intrude. I’d already taken over his bed and his life. Shit, the pain was so bad. I had to make it to the restroom to empty my bladder soon, or it would do it for me, right here on these blue sheets. “Umm…Xander,” I muttered, not loud enough to wake him in case he was still sleeping. I watched hopefully as he began to stir and then lift from the couch.
“You okay?” he asked as he moved towards me.
I wasn’t. I wasn’t about to piss all over his bed. “I just need some help making it to the bathroom,” I explained.
He leaned over, lighting a candle so I could see the path we would take to the bathroom. His blue eyes shimmered in the light, and his smile was warm and soothing. “Of course,” he said softly.
He slid his arm behind my back, scooting me up on the bed. As I twisted to put my feet on the ground, I let out a moan of pain. I was embarrassed that I couldn’t take care of myself, but grateful he’d come to my aide. “Don’t rush,” he insisted. I chuckled. I had to rush. I’d stayed in the bed far too long struggling with whether or not to ask for his help. I needed to go. Now.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, helping to pull myself to my feet. My ankle ached so bad from the pressure of my weight, I nearly buckled. His strong arms caught me, holding me in place as he instructed me to put my weight on him instead of my bad ankle. “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked.
“No,” I said quickly. It was enough to ask him for help, but I wanted to walk. I needed to walk. At some point, hopefully soon, I was going to have to walk off this mountain.
