by Ivy Jordan
“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.
It took everything I had in me to make it to the bathroom, even with his help. I shut the door while he insisted on waiting just outside until I was finished.
A small candle sat on the back of the toilet giving me enough light to see my surroun
dings. Inside the small room, there wasn’t much decoration or color. The walls were made of wood paneling, just like the rest of the cabin, and the only thing in the room besides the fixtures was a black razor on the sink. I chuckled at the sight of the unused object. The man outside the door was more than just a few days without a shave. I wondered if he ever shaved.
Finally, my bladder released, offering some relief, but not enough for comfort. I washed my hands, opened the door, and found Xander standing at attention, waiting to help me back to the bed. “I’m sorry I woke you,” I apologized.
“I wasn’t really asleep. I never am,” he smiled.
I hobbled alongside him, giving him most of my weight as we made it back to the bed. He helped me up, lifted the blankets around me, and asked if I needed anything. “Why are you out here all alone?” I asked.
“I like it like that,” he admitted with a grin.
The fact he’d made himself a home what seemed to be so far from town confused me and made me a little uneasy. What was he hiding from, or who?
“Have you lived here long?” I questioned, hoping to get some insight into his life, and lifestyle.
“No, just a couple months, maybe less,” he offered up.
“Where did you live before?” I pushed, still hoping to find some answers.
“Molokai,” he grinned. It was obvious he wasn’t excited about my questioning, but I couldn’t help my curiosity.
I started to ask him why he moved here, but I couldn’t remember where here was. Panic started to set in, and my chest began to ache. “Calm down,” he soothed me, stroking my hair from my face as my breathing grew rapid and uncontrolled. Tears pushed out of my eyes with a forceful rush, warming my cheeks and creating a look of panic on Xander’s face.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, wiping my eyes.
Xander didn’t respond, he just turned from me and walked away. I tried to slow my breathing as I watched him enter the bathroom, and then exit with a handful of tissue. “Here,” he smiled, handing me the wad of toilet paper.
I blew my nose, cleared my throat, and stared into the man’s dreamy blue eyes. He truly was handsome, even if he was a fugitive, a recluse, or worse, a mountainside slayer.
“Thank you,” I smiled. “I just feel so alone. I don’t know if there is anyone looking for me, or if there is, who that’d be,” I admitted.
“As soon as the storm lets up, we’ll get you out of here. Until then, I’ll take care of you,” he smiled. “You’re safe, that’s all that matters for now. When the storm is over, and you’re better, we’ll get you back into town,” he sighed. Something shifted in his voice when he mentioned town. I assumed living out here all alone the way he did, that town wasn’t his favorite place to be, but why?
“How long do you think that’ll be?” I questioned.
“There’s already fifteen inches on the ground, and the radio said another ten is expected by nightfall,” he responded.
I felt sick to my stomach. I was never getting off this mountain.
I tried not to display the panic I felt on my face, but from the look of Xander’s, it was obvious I’d failed.
“Let me look at that wound,” he leaned in, carefully removing the bandage from my head. “Looks great,” he assured me, getting up to retreat into the bathroom.
I heard him fumbling through the medicine chest, and then he returned with a yellow box with a red cross on it. I let him clean the wound, and then reapply the bandage, only flinching once. My head didn’t hurt that bad, only when he touched it with the alcohol sopped cotton ball. Why was my memory so foggy if my hip and ankle were banged up worse than my head?
“Can I check the ankle?” he asked.
I nodded, anxious to see the damage myself. He lifted the blanket from my leg, and carefully touched the swollen joint. “It’s pretty swollen,” he proclaimed. Well, I didn’t need a doctor for that. “I’ll get some ice. You need to stay off of it today,” he instructed.
I fell back onto the pillow behind me, letting out a long sigh. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go, or any way of getting there, but I couldn’t stand being stuck in this bed another day.
Xander returned to my bedside with an ice pack. I shuddered as he applied the cold bag to my ankle, causing him to laugh. His eyes lifted to mine, filled with kindness, and something so sweet I could almost taste it. “So, why did you move from Hawaii? It doesn’t seem like this place, whatever it is, has very good weather?” I chuckled.
“Bethel, Maine,” he gave me our location. The name didn’t strike me as completely odd, but it wasn’t exactly familiar either. “Too many tourists,” he added.
“You didn’t have family there?” I pushed.
He shook his head, but the look on his face told me he did. He obviously left someone behind, another thing I would wonder about while he took care of me in this isolated cabin.
“Family here?” I continued my probing.
He shook his head, this time smiling with a crooked grin. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“Does that bother you?” I asked, suddenly worried I may anger him. I didn’t know this man. I didn’t know what he was capable of, what he’d snuck up in these woods to hide from. I knew enough that I should tread lightly.
“No, it’s just not fair. Not like I can ask you anything,” he chuckled.
The teasing made me laugh and lifted the tension from my soul, making me feel more at ease around him.
“I’ll make us breakfast. You just relax for a while and let the ice work its magic,” he ordered, slipping from the side of my bed to the other side of the cabin.
Chapter Five
Xander
I stared out the kitchen window at the snow covered mountain just past the glass. The gravy was starting to thicken as I slid my wooden spoon through for one last stir. Bailey, if that’s even her name, was on the couch looking through an old photo album I’d tucked under the coffee table. I turned off the propane powered camping skillet, looked over my shoulder, and had a strange feeling roll through my gut. The same feeling I’d had several times over the last few days.
Bailey pushed her long red hair away from her face, showing off her sleek profile as I brought her a plate. “Thank you,” she said softly, looking up at me with a look of embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind,” she muttered.
“No, of course not,” I smiled, sitting down beside her on the couch. I leaned in, checking out the photos that she was browsing through. “Those are my SEAL brothers,” I said proudly, watching carefully how her smile creeped up higher on one side of her face. A few freckles adorned her cheeks, perfectly positioned on each side like a masterpiece. That feeling rolled through my gut again, nearly leaving me breathless.
I knew she was younger than me, but probably not by much. She had to be close to thirty, if not already. At thirty-five, I wasn’t exactly old, but her sweet, innocent features made me worry I was having feelings for someone far too young.
“How long were you a SEAL?” she asked.
“Eight years,” I responded.
I watched her eyes drift away from mine and back to the photos. I hadn’t looked through the album myself for years, but I drug it around with me everywhere I went. It was one of the few personal items I had that meant anything to me.
“Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to a picture of me and Liam. He was a short, stocky guy that looked like he spent more time at the gym than anyone else I knew. “Liam,” I chuckled as I thought about some of the crazy shit we’d done over the years. He was a real firecracker, the nice guy in the muscle-bound body, but he had a wild side like me.
I scooted closer to her, taking in the faint scent of vanilla still left on her skin. We looked through the album together, while I reminisced about the ‘good ole days’ and shared stories with her that I hadn’t shared with anyone before that wasn’t in them. “You think you know someone in the military?” I asked, thinking maybe the album peaked her interest due to a locked-up mem
ory or two. She shrugged, her expression dangled with frustration, and I knew she was fighting back tears.
The last three nights had been tough, but Bailey proved to be tougher. She’d quit tearing up when she couldn’t answer a question and even quit asking for my help to the bathroom. She was strong and independent, and I was growing to really enjoy that about her. That umbrella, the one she threatened me with that first night, was now her cane, and it took everything I had not to chuckle when I saw her hobbling around the cabin with it. “I know there’s a couple Navy bases not too far from here,” I explained the reasoning behind my question. They weren’t far, three hours or so, and I knew them both well. Bethel was a nice secluded part of Maine, one usually only frequented by tourists for the snow-capped mountains in the winter. It was a very likely place for a Navy family to migrate.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” I consoled her with a pat on the back. Shit, you are gruff, Xander. Why can’t I handle crying women?
“It’s okay. I just feel so lost and alone,” she sniffled, wiping away the tear that escaped.
“Why don’t we try to jog your memory?” I suggested.
Her smile was faint, but present, so I took that as a yes. “Good. Let’s start simple,” I sat on the edge of the couch and reached for my plate. “Do you like biscuits and gravy?”
I was hoping she hadn’t remembered what good biscuits tasted like; mine were two days old, kept in the bread box on my counter. “I don’t know,” she giggled, reaching for her fork. I watched her as she took her first bite. Her expression was hard to read as she swallowed the stale biscuit coated with my famous gravy. The guys used to lap it up when we were deployed, saying it would make an old shoe taste good.
“I like it,” she smiled, taking another bite.
We’d spent a lot of time talking over the last few days, but mostly about the weather, about why I’d moved out here, and her injuries. She was getting better, but still not fit to make it down the snow covered mountain side. One slip, and she was bound to break something, and with her stubborn independence, I knew she wouldn’t agree to me carrying her down.
