by Molly Wens
Bryce exchanged another look with his father before sitting up and uncrossing his legs. “I'll do it,” he said gravely. He held up his hand at the quick smile on Davidson's face. “Under one condition: you tell me how to find her when it's done."
Davidson scratched his head, grinning devilishly. “I shouldn't. It's wrong, but after seeing the way she looked when you ... Okay, you have a deal.” Chris stood as he thrust out his hand, offering it to the young man who might just be his friend's salvation.
* * * *
Carissa heard the phone ring, heard her mother run to catch it before it rang a third time. She was awake, had been for some time, staring at the ceiling without feeling anything. Her mother's voice, hushed and somber, floated down the hall and through the closed door of her room. There were other sounds, too, of children giggling, their conspiratorial whispers reaching her from the playroom at the other end of the house.
Thinking of all that had transpired, all the changes that had buffeted her life in the past months—even the past hours—had her shuddering on the bed. She could not really focus on any one point, could not get her mind around her situation as a whole. Nothing really made sense to her as she tried, and tried again, to formulate some plan of action, something that would help get her life back together.
Finally giving up, she hauled herself off the bed to stand upon wobbly legs. Carissa could not remember ever being so tired, but then, she could not remember ever having such a day. Her numb body did not want to cooperate, her muscles stiffly protesting each step she took. Opening the door, she shambled into the hallway, took a deep breath and walked the rest of the way to the kitchen.
She could not hear what her mother was saying, only the tone of voice she used. There was no doubt that the conversation was about her, something that Carissa detested. “Who are you talking to, Mother?” she groused when she drew near.
Alice nearly dropped the phone, startled by her daughter's sudden presence. “Oh, honey. I thought you were still sleeping. It's Melissa. Do you feel up to talking?"
Carissa reached for the phone, wondering just exactly what her mother had told her friend. “Hi,” she muttered into the receiver.
"Carissa, how are you? Ashley called me from the station a little while ago and told me what happened,” Melissa said, her voice low and concerned. “Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'll live. Just seems to be par for the course for me lately. How're you doing?"
"I'm fine,” Melissa stated quickly. “Listen, um, I don't know how to tell you this, but I think you should know. Ash said that your, uh, mountain man and you had..."
"A brutal confrontation,” Carissa supplied. “A nasty argument. An ugly falling out."
"Yeah. Anyway, you should know what he's doing. He's going live on the six tonight..."
"He what?” Carissa hissed into the phone. “I told him to stay out of it, damn him! I ... I'll call you later.” She slammed the receiver onto the cradle and glanced at the clock. It was 6:03 and the evening news had already started. If she knew Chris Davidson, he would have Bryce live, in the studio for an in-depth interview. The news director would make it a special report, taking up the entire first segment of the half-hour show.
Stalking into the living room, she snatched up the remote and punched the buttons. It seemed to take forever, impatient as Carissa was, for the set to buzz to life, and when it did, Bryce's face filled the screen. The camera was angled just right to capture his handsome, unmarked right side and still offer glimpses of the damaged part of his face in close-up. His eyes were glittering in the studio lights, his expression, a grave mask of conviction.
Carissa raised the volume to better hear the deep timbre of his voice. “...buried in the snow. She was barely alive, badly injured and unconscious. She was wearing what looked like a business suit, no coat or protection from the elements. She had frostbite on her hands and feet and a little on her face and ears. She was pretty torn up, cuts and bruises. Someone had beaten her up pretty bad.
"She had a fever that lasted for days. She alternated from convulsions to hallucinations. There were many times when I didn't think she was going to make it."
The director switched cameras to a view of the anchor, Ashley Gaston, her pretty face a study of concern as she moved to the next question. “It sounds as if it was pretty serious. Why didn't you take her to a hospital?"
Carissa remained standing in the middle of the room, her eyes trained on the TV as the view switched back to Bryce's face. “There just wasn't any way to do that. My home is a cabin, set pretty far up along the mountain. There aren't any roads, and even if there were, there was a pretty fierce blizzard raging up there. I don't own a vehicle. I don't have a phone or transmitter to call for help.” He smiled sheepishly at the anchor. “I don't even have electricity.” His face sobered again. “I'd've had to pack her out on foot and she'd never have survived the trip. All I could do was try to get her fever down and dress the wounds."
The camera panned out, showing Bryce—Skoll at his side—and Ashley, sitting, facing each other at an angle on the sit-down set. Carissa knew Ashley well, knew that the expression on the anchor's face was real. She could understand the emotion behind that expression, since she had experienced it herself the day she had removed Bryce's beard. It was difficult to be a woman in his presence without feeling his intensity or the pure masculine sexuality that flowed from the man.
"And, after Ms. James had recovered, why did she not leave then?” Ashley asked, her eyes never leaving his face.
"She'd have never got out on her own. It takes about four days to walk out, and that's without the several feet of snow that covered the ground. Took me almost a week to walk out when I left after the park service came for her."
The view switched to a single shot of Ashley. “Why didn't you bring her out when she was recovered?"
The shot changed to Bryce, his face taking on a slightly wistful quality. “It took quite a while for her to recover. You have to remember—there wasn't any medical help. She had lost a lot of weight and was pretty weak."
Off camera, Ashley asked, “But once she was strong enough, why didn't you take her out then?"
The right corner of Bryce's mouth twitched, almost smiling. He cleared his throat. “Well, for one, she didn't have the right clothing for it. How she managed to survive out there in that blizzard without the proper gear, I'll never know."
"Didn't you have something she could borrow?"
The smile that had been tugging at his lips finally formed, a crooked, endearing smile that played mysteriously on screen. “Well, you know Carissa. She's a very small person and well...” his voice trailed off as he waved a hand indicating his own long frame.
The camera view switched to a blushing Ashley who was trying to stifle a nervous titter. “Yes, well, I can see where that would be a problem. So, what you're saying is that she was trapped and there was no way out."
Off camera, he answered, “Yes. It was too dangerous to leave."
"How did she finally get out of the wilderness? We know that the park service came for her, but how did they know where to find her?"
The shot switched back to Bryce, his face somber again. “I hiked for a couple of days to a neighboring cabin. I knew the owner of the place had a radio and could call for help."
Skoll whimpered softly and Bryce turned his attention to the dog, his big hand resting on the animal's massive cranium, with the camera panning out to show his actions.
"Why did you wait nearly two months to get help? Surely you could have made that trip sooner than you did,” Ashley asked, her voice coolly professional.
The camera zoomed in on Bryce. He face betrayed his surprise at the question only briefly. There was a moment of hesitation before he answered. “Quite honestly, the thought had never occurred to me before that time. I've lived on that mountain for several years with almost no human contact. Trekking through the snow-covered mountains to visit my neighbors is just not something I normall
y do. You become pretty self-sufficient up there, and tend to forget that there are other people around.
"It's not like the guy lived a couple of miles down the way. His cabin is over on the next peak. It's a hard trip down and back up again. The mountains can be treacherous, especially in winter. One step in the wrong direction and you can crash through the snow and end up at the bottom of a gorge with your neck broken. If you get injured or stuck you can freeze to death, be food for the scavengers."
When he fell silent again, the shot moved back to the anchor who had become caught up in his story. “You took a pretty big chance, then. Why? Why risk your life for this stranger?"
Bryce's face was on the screen again; his eyes cast downward, hiding the sadness that Carissa could feel watching him. “She wanted to go home,” he said softly. He raised his vision to the camera, the force of his gaze reaching into her living room through her TV screen. “She needed to get home. No mother should ever be forced to live without her children, and Carissa was suffering the hell of the damned, without hers. She worried every minute of the day if they were safe. I think she was concerned that their father would get his hands on them. That was something that really scared her. I had to find a way to get her out. So that's what I did."
Carissa felt her knees grow weak, needed to sit down. She never took her eyes off the TV as she felt around behind her, finding the coffee table and sinking onto it. There was a message in his eyes that went beyond the words he spoke, something he was trying to tell her.
"What did Ms. James tell you about her injuries? How had she been hurt?” Ashley continued the questioning.
"She told me that she was on a company trip—for you people, as I understand it. She was working for you, until ... Well, anyway, she said that her rental car had broken down when the blizzard started. Basically, she was kidnapped by one of the two men that died up there. He picked up his partner and tried to carry her off to ... cause her harm. She fought them and managed to escape, but not before she took a fairly nasty beating."
"How long had she been wandering in the wilderness before you found her?"
Bryce hesitated, looking thoughtful as the camera panned back to him. “I'm not really sure. I don't think even she knows. She was pretty much done-in by the time she'd made it as far as the hollow below my cabin. But it was Skoll here that really found her.” He turned to pat the dog again, the big animal looking up and licking his face. “He's the real hero. If he hadn't kept at me until I went outside to investigate, she'd've frozen to death out there. All I did was follow his lead."
Ashley smiled at the dog. “He seems like a pretty good animal to have around."
"Yep, he's been good company."
"I guess we should warn the viewers, though. If you see the dog out anywhere, you might want to resist the urge to run up and pet him,” Ashley said. She let a malicious little giggle slip. “He nearly took the arm off our station manager when they met in the hall."
Her words gave Carissa a satisfied smirk. She had loved that dog the moment she saw him in that cabin and now she knew why. He was a good judge of character.
The shot panned back to Bryce, his face held an almost cruel light at the anchor's words. He looked as if he wished the dog had finished the job. “Yeah, but he can sense a person's disposition. He knows when someone isn't worthy of trust."
Carissa and Alice both snorted.
Ashley cleared her throat, fighting back the urge to laugh. “When Ms. James was returned to civilization, so to speak, it came to light that she spent two months trapped in a cabin with someone who was—I hope you'll forgive me—accused of murdering his wife. Though the charges were dropped, you were accused of killing her so that you might get control of her trust fund. Would you like to speak to those allegations?"
The view immediately switched back to camera one, showing Bryce's face, capturing his initial response to her question. His face darkened ominously, his gray eyes burning with the fire of rage long kept at bay. That muscle under the scar tissue of his left jaw constricted, ticking dangerously. He took a breath in the next instant, and his expression changed to one of pain before he wrested control of his emotions, looking directly at Ashley.
"I loved Anna. She was a wonderful woman. You can't imagine the kind of love a man can have for such a person ... There was an accident while we were on vacation in Yellowstone...” He stopped, his voice faltering as the camera zoomed a little tighter, catching every nuance of expression that crossed his face. Taking a pained breath, he continued haltingly, as if each word wracked him with pain. “I ... I never spoke of this to anyone except Carissa. It's a little hard...” he cleared his throat. “I ... the truck that hit us plowed over the top of our car. When I came to she was pinned under the truck, her seat was crushed under her and pushed to the back of the car."
Bryce fidgeted in his seat, obviously fighting the memories that flooded his mind. Carissa felt a pang near her heart, knowing how painful this very public disclosure was for him. She suddenly wished she could reach her arms around him, hold him close and make the hurt go away.
Clearing his throat again, Bryce continued, lost in the trauma of the memories. “She was ... hurt bad. She was awake ... in more pain than she could stand. She begged ... there was no way she was going to survive. Everything below her ribs was just ... gone ... She wanted me to help her, needed me to. I did what I needed,” his expression began to change, his voice growing stronger as if he were having some great revelation. “I did what was necessary to ease her pain and give her peace. Her face relaxed and she smiled at me. Some see what I did as horrible—and I do too—but she ... she seemed so grateful. I know that now. She was no longer in pain."
There was a tense pause, the camera panning to catch both subjects. Ashley was mesmerized by the intensity of Bryce's confession. Snapping out of her stupor, she raised a document in front of her. “According to the coroner's report that we were able to get a copy of, Anna Matheney died from her injuries. Her spine, and in truth, nearly her entire torso, was severed below the third thoracic vertebra, with massive internal trauma. It lists as secondary cause-of-death, asphyxiation due to the blood in her lungs. But the ranger's report on the incident has you ... smothering her. The ranger claims to have witnessed your blocking her air passage. Was that what happened."
Without flinching, Bryce answered, “Yes."
"That's an amazing admission. It was your father-in-law, Sam Cannon that prompted the charges against you; saying that you had killed her for financial gain. What have you to say about that?"
"Sam's a good man,” Bryce said, an air of wistful sadness in his expression. “I can't really blame him. He needed someone to blame and it was my fault. I was driving that night. I should've taken better care of his daughter.
"Her trust fund is still intact. Every dime of it is still sitting in the bank, untouched. I'll probably give it to charity or return it to Sam so he can do something with it. I don't want the money. We had no need for it when Anna was alive. We wanted to give it to our children...” he let his voice trailed away, lost in what might have been.
Ashley sighed as her face appeared again on the screen. It was apparent that he had easily won her over. “You, yourself, were injured quite badly. You told me that the scars on your face were caused by that accident. It says here that you nearly died of your own injuries. Is that true?"
"Yes. I think I wanted to die. It took nearly two years to recover."
"And then you retired, so to speak, to your mountain home."
"Yes, I just couldn't face the world anymore.” Bryce's expression changed again, the view zooming closer, capturing the essence of what was going through his mind, what was written in his heart. His face softened, his eyes heating with that hidden fire, smoldering hotly as he looked into the lens. “I would have stayed up there forever, alone, if I hadn't found a beautiful woman buried in the snow. She has a gift for bringing joy to a person's life. She gave me something that I haven't had in a long time:
hope. That's why I'm here. I want to spend the rest of my life making her smile.” He paused for just a moment, as if in thought. “You know, Ashley,” Bryce said, turning to the anchor as the camera panned out to capture them both.
"Yes?"
"You can't imagine how disgusted I was to come to this station and find that she had been fired because of her association with me. You should know, she's beyond reproach. She's a fine person and never did anything to warrant the judgment that your station manager dropped on her. I hope she takes his backside to the cleaners."
There was a weighty pause as the camera captured the pure malevolence in Bryce's eyes and the icy smile on his lips. Shock registered briefly on the anchor's face, followed by a touch of malicious glee before she cloaked her emotions with a cool smile.
Clearing her throat, Ashley looked at her note cards before raising her head to ask another question. “It seems as if you both went through a lot. Ms. James went through a harrowing experience and barely survived, and you worked to save her, to nurse her back to health, then risked your life to get her out. I'm sure there's one more question that our viewers would like answered: Why did you leave your mountain after being up there for so many years? If you had no communication with the outside world, you couldn't possibly know of the allegations that were made against her. Why are you here now?"
The shot switched back to Bryce, zooming slowly in on his face. The smoky glow of his eyes looked straight into the lens and out of Carissa's television screen, seeming to look straight into her soul. “After she was gone, nothing was the same ... I missed her."
"So your presence here is of a personal nature."
"Yes. Very personal, if she'll have me."
"Dear God,” Alice cried. “Did he just propose to you on the six o'clock news?"
The view switched again to Ashley, a soft, dreamy expression on her pretty face. “That's really...” Ashley cleared her throat again, pasted on her professional anchor smile. Her gaze darted off-set, then returned to Bryce's face. “I can see Mike, our floor director, signaling that our time is almost up. Is there anything else you'd like to add?"
