Rescued

by Sher Dillard

  “Fix it or die trying.” He said with a shoulder shrug as he turned to tend the fire.

  What little color that had returned to her face dropped away. He worried about her going into shock again.

  Keeping a watchful eye on her he realized that she was just now beginning to understand how close she’d come to dying. That and the fact that she was now stuck in a small cabin with some man she didn’t know and oh by the way, no one knew she was here.

  All of it would have put most people into full blown shock by now. He had to give her credit; she was bouncing back pretty fast.

  .o0o.

  No phone, no radio, no car.

  She squeezed the coffee cup to try and gain some kind of control. Okay Meagan, she said to herself. It’s not the end of the world. Your alive, Mountain Man Brandon here hasn’t attacked you. Not yet, anyway.

  You can walk out tomorrow morning. Okay, limp out. Chalk it all up to an adventure and move on. Like the man says - fix it or die trying. No big deal. Right?

  She studied the man over the top of her coffee cup. He appeared to be at least twenty six or so. The beard was full, way past that straggly stage young hipsters tried for a few months before giving up. His blue eyes, which were to die for, looked older. As if they’d seen way too much in this life already.

  He had the beginning of crinkles at the corners of his eyes where he’d squinted into the sun too many times. His skin had that robust outdoorsy look and overall he was just plain scrumptious.

  She’d noticed the shaky left hand and how he’d placed the mug on the hearth to finish pouring. What was that all about?

  Now that she looked closely, she noticed that his left arm didn’t hang straight. A permanent bend at the elbow was off to the side that didn’t seem natural. Other than that, the man was perfect. If you liked the big rugged handsome type that is. The kind with muscles, intelligent eyes, and a killer smile.

  Boy was she in trouble. Get you mind out of the gutter and back on the serious problem at hand. Who was sleeping where tonight?

  Pulling her feet up and tucking them under her, she leaned back, briefly closing her eyes. A simple day trip to take some pictures in the woods.

  She’d closed up the gallery for the week in preparation for a scouting trip to Seattle. But first, a visit to the mountains before winter settled in. A wrong turn, okay, a couple of wrong turns and she ends up in a deserted cabin with a hermit from GQ.

  Only you Meagan, only you.

  “If you’re going to sleep we should probably get you into bed,” he said.

  Her eyes flew open and looked at him, what exactly had he meant by that?

  “Where are you going to sleep?” she asked, her voice threating to start shaking again.

  “I’ve got a sleeping bag. I’ll throw it here by the fire. You can have the bed. You need to stay warm. You’re going to crash hard in a few minutes. There’s a bathroom through there,” he added pointing to the only other door in the room. “I’ve got to take Jake out for one last time. It’ll give you a few minutes to get settled for the night.”

  Gently taking the coffee cup from her hands, he placed it by the sink, then held a hand out to help her from the chair.

  Did he think she was an invalid? That she couldn’t walk without his manly help.

  Pushing away a nasty put-down, she accepted his help and placed her hand into his. A warm electric buzz traveled up her arm and she spent a moment staring at him. He’d felt it too, she knew he had, could see it in his eyes.

  He pulled her to her feet then stepped to the door. “We’ll be back in a minute, call if you need anything,” he said as he tapped his leg, drawing the big dog to his side.

  A sharp gust of frigid air rushed into the cabin as he opened the door. Winter was already here, she realized and shivered when she thought about the long walk in front of her tomorrow. A part of her was going to miss this cabin.

  It’d only been a few minutes but she felt so warm, so cozy, and surprisingly, safe.

  Limping, she made her way to the small bathroom. When she closed the door, the room became darker than the inside of her purse. She’d seen enough though to find her way to the commode. Finishing, she stepped out as he came back into the cabin.

  Jake followed him in, then did that doggy shake maneuver that proceeded to share the snow from the outside with items on the inside of the cabin.

  Limping, hobbling, she made her way to the bed and gingerly climbed in. It smelled like him, wood smoke, pine, and a hint of soap. It was such a man smell, it seeped into her very soul as she turned onto her side and watched the fire.

  .o0o.

  Brandon glanced at the bed. Meagan was still awake and watching him. He removed his boots and placed them by the fire. They’d be toasty warm in the morning. Pulling the sleeping bag from under the bed he unfurled it in front of the fire.

  Jake went to his spot beside the bed, looked at the woman, then back at Brandon as if to ask. - What’s going on big guy? You’ve got a beautiful woman in your bed and you’re going to sleep by the fire. Boy, how screwed up is that? We wouldn’t do things that way in my world I can tell you. - A dog can say a lot with a simple look.

  Brandon chuckled to himself as he threw another log onto the fire before stretching out on top of the sleeping bag. He knew that he’d wake every couple of hours and tend the fire.

  Laying on his back, he folded his hands beneath his head and stared at the ceiling.

  Things had changed. Things inside of him. Nine months ago he’d have freaked out over all of this. Being around someone else, having them rely on him would have made his head pound and heart race.

  Now, no so much, maybe he was getting better. There was something about this woman that didn’t stress him out, the opposite in fact. Her presence brought a calming influence. Something he never would have known if he hadn’t heard that faint cry for help.

  Turning onto his side, he looked towards her. She was still awake and looking back.

  “Thank you Brandon,” she said. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  He had he realized, “No problem Meagan, anytime,” he answered then closed his eyes and went to sleep.

  For the first time in nine months he was able to fall asleep without a thousand memories flying through his mind. Dozens of lists cataloging all the things that had gone wrong, every mistake, all the regrets. None of them appeared tonight. Tonight he was able to relax and sleep.

  Sleep because he deserved to.

  Chapter Two

  Meagan woke to a soft gray light peeking through the windows, illuminating the small cabin. The light softly reflecting off the bare yellow logs, giving her the first real look at her new haven.

  The field stone fireplace separated the bedroom area from a small dining area and smaller kitchen with curtains for cabinet doors.

  A two person table made of roughhewn wood sat under the far window with a tall bookcase between the window and the front door. A green and white rag rug covered the middle of the wooden floor and her trusty rocking chair sat in the middle of the room.

  All of it a cozy little set up. Not much more than a hunter’s lodge. Obviously enough for the man gently snoring on the floor before the dying fire.

  She lay on her side and studied him. Watching as his shoulders rose and fell with each breath. His yellow blond hair draped across his forehead and shone in the flickering light of the dying fire. Even in his sleep the man looked imposing.

  Bringing her hands up under her cheek and her knees beneath her chest she wondered. Pondered really, why was he here?

  He didn’t give off the normal vibe of your typical psychopath. Didn’t seem to be a serial killer on the lamb from the law. So why?

  Was it some lost love, had he crawled to the mountains to lick his wounds over a woman’s betrayal? Maybe she’d died and he’d cut himself off from civilization because everything reminded him of her.

  He obviously wasn’t hiding some disfigurement or obvious deformity. The man was
a walking heart ache.

  God, she silently begged any and all unknown deities, please don’t have him be one of those survivalist types who thinks the world’s going to end tomorrow.

  Granted, it was a pretty screwed up place, but that was no reason to run off and build a compound full of sister wives and stock piles of food.

  The man in questions started to stir. She closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see her watching him then opened them a hair and squinted through her lashes so she could do exactly that.

  He rolled onto his stomach and slowly got to all fours, grunting as if he were in pain. Getting to one knee he pushed with both hands as he slowly stood and froze in place. Hands on his thighs, bent like an old man, he rested there for a moment.

  Placing both hands in the small of his back he pushed while straightening the rest of his torso, rolling his shoulder as if trying to work out kinks. Had the hard floor done that to him?

  A sense of guilt washed through her like a rushing stream.

  As she watched, he rubbed his left elbow. Obviously trying to put some life back into the limb. Once he was done, he unfastened his belt then unbuttoned his jeans. Her heart jumped into her throat as she clenched her jaw to stop herself from making a sound.

  Reaching back he tucked his red flannel shirt into his jeans, twisted back and forth one last time, stretching tight muscles then glanced over his shoulder towards her.

  Meagan instantly closed her eyes, praying it had been in time. Catching her checking him out would have been way too much to bear.

  Keeping them tightly shut, she heard him close the bathroom door and sighed to herself in relief. Another major embarrassment avoided. Unfortunately it’d been the only one recently.

  When he came out of the bathroom he walked to the window and wiped away the condensation on the inside of the glass pane.

  “Damn,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Meagan’s heart raced. What was wrong? Throwing the covers back she jumped from the bed and raced to the window as fast hopping on one foot would allow.

  “Damn,” she said as she saw the outside.

  Another foot of snow had fallen through the night and was continuing to come down like a white curtain. Millions, no Billions of small flakes. A white world laid out beneath a gray sky.

  “Damn,” she muttered again, in case the message hadn’t been clear.

  They stood next to each other. Each lost in their own thoughts as the impact was analyzed and reviewed.

  She could feel the heat radiating from him as she caught a small whiff of smoke and old leather. The powerful scent pulled at her, tempting her to lean into his strong shoulder.

  What would it be like to have him put his arm around her and hold her? How long had it been since she’d been held by a man like him. Hell, she’d never been held by a man like him.

  “I don’t think we can get to your car, let alone the Ranger station, not today.”

  She continued to stare out the window while his words sank in. More time alone in this cabin with him. The thought sent nervous tingles up her spine.

  “Is there anyone waiting for you. Maybe they’ll contact the Rangers. Send out search parties? If so the Rangers will stop by here first. They’ll want to know if I’ve seen anything.”

  Meagan paused for a moment then shook her head. “No, there’s no one.”

  Letting that bit of information sink in. He shrugged his shoulders, “You hungry?” he asked, interrupting her day-dreams.

  Her stomach rumbled in reply and she gave a shy smile, nodding her head.

  Smiling down at her he said, “Give me a minute and I’ll get something started.”

  Meagan watched him for a moment then looked outside again. There was no way she could ask him to go out in that. Sighing to herself she mentally shrugged her shoulders and retrieved her clothes from where they hung by the fire.

  Stepping into the small bathroom she decided to forgo the bra and panty issue. She quickly donned her now stiff jeans, which felt as tight as vice grips and decided to continue to wear his T-shirt under her own flannel shirt.

  Turning to the mirror she startled herself. My god, had she looked like that all morning? Her hair was a flying mess and her face had a ghostly pallor that looked to be just this side of a corpse.

  Her purse! She’d dropped her purse somewhere last night. Her stomach fell as she tried to remember when and where she’d lost it.

  All of her most important possession where in that purse, her phone, brush, Chap Stick, things, important things.

  She couldn’t remember what had happened. The night’s events seemed to all fold together as she concentrated. There was a big blank spot until Brandon had appeared out of the night to rescue her.

  “Did you by any chance see my purse last night?” she said as she stepped out of the bathroom.

  Brandon was squatting by the fire using a wooden spoon to stir a meat and potatoes concoction in a frying pan. No stove, a hand pump, she’d had more amenities at a Girl Scout camp. How did the man survive?

  Smiling regretfully he shook his head. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking.”

  “It had all my stuff. I can’t lose it.” She said, knowing she was sounding whiney and ungrateful but she couldn’t stop herself. What else could go wrong?

  “I’ll try and find it after breakfast,” he said as he placed a plate of what appeared to be brown hash in front of her.

  Meagan studied the plate in front of her. The tantalizing aroma of hot food made her stomach clamp into a tight ball. Taking a bight she fought not to moan with pleasure.

  She caught him watching her eat. She smiled a quick thank you before taking another quick bight.

  .o0o.

  Brandon pulled his woolen watch cap tight and stomped off the porch.

  “Looking for a damn purse in a foot of snow, what’s next,” he mumbled to himself as he kicked his way through the white blanket.

  Jake of course bound through the snow like a fish headed up stream, barking with pure happiness. The dog was hopeless.

  Sighing to himself, Brandon concentrated on finding the spot where he’d rescued Meagan the night before. He had a pretty good idea where it was and hopefully she’d dropped her purse there and not back along the trail.

  A brief memory of holding onto the back of her legs flashed through his mind. Their soft curves had sent a spike of pure desire through him.

  Shaking his head, he tried to focus on what he was supposed to be doing. Who would have believed he’d be out in this stuff digging around for a lady’s purse?

  Granted, the woman in question was sexier than a Playboy pin-up wrapped in a red bow.

  Plus he had to admit to himself, she’d tried to stop him from going out, told him it wasn’t that important.

  He insisted though. In reality, he’d needed an excuse to get out of the cabin. It had begun to feel tighter than a drum. Besides. It was sort of nice to have a reason to do something for another person.

  Maybe he’d changed. Maybe he could deal with people again. Rolling his left shoulder, he smiled to himself. His body was as healed as it was ever going to be. He’d never have the strength in his left arm like he used too. It was functional, at least for most things. So many of the guys hadn’t been so lucky.

  He thought about the women left back in the cabin. A strong need pulsed inside of him. It had been nine months alone up here.

  Was this strong attraction simply because he hadn’t been around anyone for so long? Deep down he knew it was much more than that. That he’d have felt this way if he’d met her on the streets of town.

  He liked the way she smiled when she was happy. How she didn’t complain or whine when she found out it’d be another day stuck in his cabin.

  She was obviously intelligent, independent. There was definitely a lot to like. When a vision of her wearing his T-shirt and bare legs jumped to his mind he smiled, yes definitely a lot to like.

  “Jesus H. Crist on a crutch, Brandon,” he mumbled to himsel
f. “Do not get involved with this woman. Tomorrow, you’ll get her to the Ranger station and you can go back to being alone,”

  You’re talking to yourself Brandon. When did he start doing that? All this time up here alone, was he going crazy? Correction, crazier than when he got here.

  He didn’t use to talk to himself. Maybe he was changing, changing for the worse, not better.

  Shoving his hands into his pocket, he glanced back at the cabin. Even if he got rid of her tomorrow, things will still have changed.

  Stomping his feet, he started kicking the snow looking for a purse.

  .o0o.

  ‘James Hansen was the first to die. It wasn’t my fault. But it was my responsibility.’ The words were written in a bold, efficient hand across the top of a yellow legal pad. The sentence repeated itself exactly. Over and over down the entire page. As if someone had assigned him a cursive punishment of repeating his lines

  Meagan’s heart dropped as a cold chill crept down her back. Had she found evidence that Brandon was a serial killer?

  Maybe that’s why he was here? He’d taken himself away from people to avoid any temptation to murder them. Of course she’d come along and placed a nice tempting target right in front of him. What had she gotten herself into and what would he do to her if he found her reading this?

  A quick glance out the window showed him tromping down the hill in search of her purse. Jake bounding through the snow, cutting back and forth in front of him, chomping at the snow, tail wagging, totally enjoying life.

  Glancing at the note pad she shuddered.

  She hadn’t intended to snoop. Okay, maybe a little. A girl’s got to check out her surroundings. She wanted to know more about the man she was marooned with.

  Where was he from and why was he here. The questions were driving her up the wall.

  She’d been looking through the book cabinet. You can tell a lot about a man by the books he reads. The fact that he read at all was significant. The case was made up mostly of military history and science fiction with a couple of save the world type thrillers. It also contained a chemistry text book.