Rescued

by Sher Dillard

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Rescued

  Sher Dillard

  Copyright 2017 Sher Dillard

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Purple Herb Publishing.

  Sher.Dillard@gmail.com

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  For my husband, my rock, my rescuer.

  Other books by Sher Dillard

  Dragon Fire

  Dragon Heat

  Dragon Blaze

  Chapter One

  There is nothing so quiet as a mountain meadow on a snowy night. A muffled white blanket covered the world in peace, bringing with it a sense of silence that fed his soul.

  This was why he was here. For times like this. For time enough to heal.

  A large silver moon cast long grizzled shadows through the tall pines as sparkling stars crossed the night sky. The slate gray lake puffed wisps of steam into the cool night air, each one fighting to see which could climb higher into the ether.

  Sighing to himself, Brandon brought the coffee to his lips. For the first time in a long time he thought he might be able to sleep tonight. Maybe, just maybe, he could find that spot. That oneness that would allow him to start becoming himself again.

  Roughing Jakes fur, he turned to go back inside when something broke the silence. A distant something that didn’t fit the night. Jake heard it too. The big dog’s ears peaked as he froze and stared into the night.

  The man’s heart dropped, he’d seen that look on too many patrols outside the wire.

  Something was out there, something that he knew was going to ruin his night.

  .o0o.

  It appeared as if the wolf was going to eat her before she had a chance to freeze to death, Meagan thought. A less than noble way to go for a rather mundane life. And oh so typical.

  Lying perfectly still, she strove not to shiver. Clenching her jaw, she fought to keep her muscles from moving, as her heart threatened to claw a way out of her chest. Play dead, play dead, she kept repeating to herself. Go away, she prayed. Go away.

  The beasts sniffed at her, nudging her side with his nose, its hot breath tickling the back of her neck. Please God, not like this. A sprained ankle was one thing, freezing to death in some unknown field might have been understandable. To be eaten alive, it wasn’t fair.

  Cringing internally, she tried to prepare for the pain.

  She should fight, at least a token resistance. Something to let the animal know she wasn’t an easy meal. Her pride demanded it. Unfortunately her muscles rebelled, refusing all instructions and commands.

  They hadn’t worked for a while. The cold had gotten in too deep. It seemed to have broken through each cell wall and solidified her core into hard ice.

  A soft black blanket of cold finality started to descend, falling across her consciousness like a comforting embrace. The darkness brought with it escape, oblivion. Please, please hurry, she thought. Hurry before the wolf begins, she begged.

  Reaching with her mind she tried to pull the darkness in close.

  “Back off Jake,” a deep voice bellowed.

  The darkness stopped descending, threatening to retreat. No! She screamed in her mind. I need it, I want the ending. Please, before the wolf starts.

  A burning ache pushed the cold away as she grasped with her mind for the darkness. God was screwing with her. That had to be it. She’d been so close.

  “Come here boy,” the voice crooned.

  She felt the wolf leave, its menacing presence trickling away.

  One eyelid, she thought to herself, she could open one eyelid couldn’t she? Fighting to focus, she managed to slowly open her eye and look towards the voice.

  Her heart sunk. God obviously wasn’t done with the jokes. The wolf had been joined by Sasquatch. Bigfoot himself.

  The moon shone behind his head, silhouetting him against the dark night sky. The black wolf ran to the creature’s side and sat in the snow while the giant stroked its neck.

  The huge beast studied her, as if trying to determine if she would be better roasted or par-broiled. Shaking his shaggy head, he started to approach and she began to pray again for the darkness to return.

  “Christ lady, you shouldn’t be here,” the creature said. Who knew that Sasquatches could talk? The discovery of the century and her camera was in her car at the bottom of the ditch on a dirt road nobody ever used.

  Bending, the beast picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, grunting as he stood. His arm wrapped itself around the back of her thighs and pulled her in tight, securing her in place.

  Hanging there like an upside down Popsicle she thought about escape, but still her muscles refused to respond.

  The upside down world swung with each of his steps up the hill. All she could tell was that Sasquatch wore a suede jacket and blue jean. He smelled of wood smoke and pine needles. That didn’t seem right for some reason. Especially when you added that he might have a nice butt.

  The animal became winded as he climbed the hill. Seriously hurting her self-esteem. She wasn’t that big a girl, a hundred and fifteen pounds, okay one twenty sometimes. You’d think your average monster could carry her. The whole thing could ruin a girl’s self-image.

  Twisting she tried to escape.

  “Hold still,” he grumbled through clenched teeth as he clamped down with his arm. “We’re almost there.”

  “PPPPPPuuutttttt MMMEeee Doooown,” She stuttered through shivering lips as she tried to bring a fist into his back. It was like pounding on solid pavement and just as effective.

  “Here we are,” he said as he stomped up two wooden stairs and shoved open a door.

  A soft comforting warmth spread across her backside as light flooded the porch. He bent slightly and stepped inside, being careful not to hit her head as he twisted to shut the door against the night.

  They were in a house, a cabin, a log cabin. Soft brown wood and a dying yellow fire welcomed her. Grunting again, the beast slowly placed her on her feet and stepped back to study his prey, his hands out to catch her if she fell.

  She looked at the creature, surprised to see not Sasquatch, no much worse, a beautiful Norse Viking. Black hair, blue eyes, and a full black beard.

  His leather jacket and massive shoulders made him look like he’d stepped off a longboat from some Norwegian fjord. God, could a man look any more dangerous she wondered. Those blue eyes looked deeper than a mountain lake and just as cold. His brow furrowed in concern and not a little anger. She might have been safer with a Sasquatch.

  “What the hell are you doing out here in this weather?” he asked.

  “I … I… mmmmyyyyy cccarrr,” she said through chattering teeth.

  He shook his head and reached for the zipper of her jacket. What the …. Didn’t this guy have any boundaries? Thirty seconds and he was already trying to get her undressed. “NnnnnnO,” she stammered as she slapped his hand away.

  “We need to get you out of those wet clothes. You’re soaked clean through and you’ll never get warm.”

  “I’LLLLL Doooo it.”

  “Yeah right,” he said with a smirk as he bent and tossed a couple of logs onto the fire. Standing he removed his coat and hung it on a peg then turned to watch her fumble with the damn zipper. />
  Impossible, the man looked even bigger without the jacket.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “MMMM Meaggggan McAllister,” she answered as she tried to get her fingers to work. Nothing was right, her fingers wouldn’t stop shaking. Her entire body wouldn’t stop shaking. The fire wasn’t working. Nothing was working. No matter how hard tried, her muscles wouldn’t respond like they were supposed to.

  He stepped in front of her and scrunched down so that their eyes were on the same level.

  “Listen Meaggggan,” he said with a devastating smile as he placed a hand on each of her shoulders.

  She could have kicked him for making fun of her shivering speech. The man didn’t have an ounce of chivalry in him.

  “Listen Meagan,” he repeated. “My name is Brandon Erikson. Nice to meet you.” His smile could melt a Nun’s heart. Her knees didn’t actually go weak, but they threatened to.

  “You have hypothermia,” he continued. “Your core body temperature has gotten so low that you can’t get it back to where it should be. If we don’t get you out of those wet cloths you’re going to pass out. At that point my only option will be to remove all of your clothes then remove all of mine and lay next to you all night. Despite the fact that it sounds more than wonderful. I would prefer to do things my way. It’s faster, and way less embarrassing. Now please, let me help you. I won’t look, promise.”

  She studied him for a moment. If he smirked she was going to hit him over the head.

  Sighing to herself she nodded and dropped her useless hands from the damn zipper.

  He smiled, assuring her that things would be all right then unzipped her coat. He hung it next to his on the wall. Then reaching up, he started to unbutton the top button of her flannel shirt.

  Her stomach began to flutter as his hands slowly loosened each button, finally pulling it free of her jeans. It felt good to get the wet shirt off but she continued to shiver and wasn’t sure it was all due to the cold.

  Standing there in her bra, she silently gave thanks that she wasn’t wearing one of her old ratty ones. The fire’s warmth tickled her bare skin, enough to be soothing but not enough to fix her.

  The man glanced at her from under his brow. There was some definite checking her out going on. Before she could complain, he stepped behind her and pulled a green wool army blanket off the bed.

  “Here put this around you,” he said as he draped it across her shoulders.

  She clasped the blanket to her neck as his hands fumbled with her Jean button. They felt warm, almost hot against her bare stomach. Sending electrical shocks throughout her body.

  Looking over his shoulder, she tried to ignore the whole situation, sort of like a gynecological exam, only with a gorgeous doctor.

  Somehow it was so much worse.

  He helped her slither out of her sopping jeans then cursed under his breath when he saw her ankle.

  “What happened here?” he asked “Does it hurt?”

  “Tttrreee root, I ddddon’t know, Ccccan’t feel anything.”

  “Stay here,” he said as he turned his back and went to a dresser at the end of the bed. Yeah, like where was she going to go?

  The one room cabin felt smaller than a walk-in closet and there was no way she was going back outside wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

  “Here,” he said handing her an olive green T-shirt and a pair of his boxers. “Don’t worry, they’re clean.”

  She looked at the clothes in her hand and then at her fist clasping the blanket to her throat.

  “You go ahead and finish, I’ll turn my back. Hurry, I need to get you off that foot.”

  She waited until his back was completely turned then started to lower the blanket only to catch a movement out of the corner of her eye. It was the wolf. Of course not a real wolf, just like the man wasn’t a real Sasquatch.

  A handsome German shepherd looked at her and cocked his head as if trying to figure out what this weird person was doing getting naked in the middle of his house.

  Realizing that the dog wasn’t going to turn his back and afraid if she took too long the big beautiful beast standing by the window wouldn’t wait, she quickly skinnied out of her underthings and into his cloths.

  The T-shirt was warm. Burying her nose in the cloth she inhaled a soothing aroma of wood smoke and soap. The shirt fell half way to her knees, thank god for tall men. It would make excellent night clothes.

  Pulling the blanket back around her shoulders she hopped over to stand next to the fire.

  “Oooookay,” she said with a dry croak.

  He turned and smiled. “Good, now sit down. Here,” he commanded as he dragged a rocking chair to the fire.

  She sat, remembering her grandmother’s rocker and spending rainy days curled up reading by her fireplace. A warm glow started to creep into her bones once again.

  “Okay, let me look at this,” he said as he gently lifted her injured foot. The ankle had turned a pretty shade of blue and purple. The snow had stopped some of the swelling but the ankle looked bigger than it should have.

  She wanted to go find the offending tree root that had jumped out and tripped her and rip it out of the earth, that or burn the whole damn tree to the ground.

  Her mind became focused on the man kneeling in front of her. She knew she should be examining her surroundings, escape routes, possible weapons, instead she couldn’t take her eyes away.

  Where had he come from? Why did he live here? If he hadn’t found her she’d have died. There was no doubt about it. Shuddering, she pulled the blanket tighter.

  His large strong hands held her calf and heel. Surprisingly gentle. She could get used to this, she thought as a warm tingle traveled up the back of her leg.

  Looking into her eyes, he slowly moved it from side to side until she winced when he twisted it a little too far.

  “I don’t think it’s broken, just a bad sprain.” He announced. “I’ll wrap it up and you’ll have to keep it elevated for a few days.”

  Why did inappropriate thoughts jump into her head when he talked about keeping her legs in the air?

  Returning from a small side room with a first aid kit, he kneeled again and expertly wrapped her ankle with an Ace bandage.

  “There, that should do for now,” he said as he slid two thick woolen socks over her feet and placed them on a small round ottoman. Stepping back he admired his handy work.

  He looked around the room as if trying to decide what needed to be done next. Snatching her wet clothes from the floor he started to hang them from the mantle so they would dry.

  When he hung her panties and bra she thought for sure she’d die right then and there from pure embarrassment.

  Instead she waited until his back was turned then snatched them away and buried them next to her side. She’d go commando before she let him stare at her under-clothes all night.

  .o0o.

  Brandon ran a hand through his hair and tried to figure out what to do next. This was not supposed to happen. He’d escaped to these mountains to avoid drama, avoid people in distress. To escape from the panic that descended over him whenever he was near someone he didn’t know.

  Saving beautiful women was most definitely not on the agenda.

  Grabbing a pot holder, he lifted the coffee pot from the fire. He started to pour her a cup but his damn left hand wouldn’t hold the mug steady. Flopping around like a wounded seal.

  It did that when it got put in the wrong angle. The nerve endings had gotten miss-wired and couldn’t seem to make up their mind.

  Sighing to himself he placed the cup on the hearth and finished the pour.

  “Sorry, no milk or sugar,” he said as he handed her the cup. “You’ll have to drink it black.”

  She wrapped her hands around the warm mug and inhaled the rich aroma, smiling her thanks. Where did she come from? and why was she here? kept running through his brain.

  He became mesmerized as he watched her plush lips sip the coffee
and then her small pink tongue peek out to gently lick those very same lips. God a man could get lost staring at her.

  She had to be about his age, twenty five maybe. Sexy as hell, long auburn hair with a natural curl, Green eyes the color of cedar bows in the winter. Flawless skin that begged to be caressed and a shape that was all woman, curving and twisting a man’s soul into knots.

  Shaking his head, he turned away before he said or did something he shouldn’t, before the adrenalin rush and panicked breathing could take over.

  “So, why were you lost in my field in the middle of the night?” he asked, his voice a little gruffer than he’d intended.

  He was going to have to remember how to talk to people he reminded himself. Especially pretty young women. He hadn’t had much practice the last nine months.

  “My cccccar went into a ditch a mile below yyyyyyour driveway.”

  “That’s not a road,” he said. “It’s a fire brake. The forest service uses it occasionally. It isn’t really meant to be driven on.”

  “I know that now,” she said with a huff as if his observation was rather obvious. “I couldn’t find a place to turn around so I kept going until I slid into the ditch. That was late afternoon. My cccccell phone didn’t have any bars and it was getting llllllate,” she shuddered.

  He was pretty sure it wasn’t only the cold seeping out of her body. She must have been shook up. Her white knuckles on the coffee cup pretty much confirmed it.

  “I was going to start walking,” she continued. “Bbbbbbut I saw the smoke from your fire and I thought maybe you might have a phone or radio or someway to contact somebody.”

  She looked up at him expectantly. His heart went out to her as he shook his head. “No phone, no radio, sorry,” he said.

  “No phone, what do you do if something ggggggoes wrong.”

  “Fix it.”

  “What if you can’t? What if you got hhhhhhurt?”