by Vivian Wood
“Ellie, I told you—”
“You were calling for me! You kept saying ‘Ellie’!”
“I—I was?”
“Yes! That’s why I came in.”
“Look, I’m sorry. But I was asleep. I told you not to come in. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Henry, is everything—”
“Go back to bed, Ellie.”
“Henry!”
“I said go back to bed,” he said, rising up and guiding her out of his room. She didn’t put up much of a fuss, and as he pushed her lower back gently through the doorway, he was reminded of just how small she was compared to him. If he hadn’t woken up when he did, who knows what he might have done to her.
When he heard her door shut, he grimly pulled out the suitcase hidden in the closet. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to do this, but never left home without them just in case.
His military grade handcuffs hadn’t been used much on tour. However, they'd still been issued, particularly when he started getting into hostage negotiation territory. A few girlfriends had found them over the years and had nearly begged him to dabble in a little kink. He’d always refused. Henry never could understand why so many people thought restraints were a turn-on. For him, they did nothing but remind him of war and the powerlessness that could come with it.
It was a good thing Eli had furnished the cabin with sprawling beds complete with plenty of posts. Henry dutifully cuffed himself to the bed, tightening them as much as possible without cutting off blood flow. He was well-trained in escape tactics, and couldn’t risk his subconscious making a run for it.
The restraints were uncomfortable, just as they should be. It was another reason he’d never indulged any of his romantic interests with their BDSM fantasies—and probably why so many of the restraints at adult shops were covered in fur. When you got down to the bones of the matter, there was nothing sensual or sexy about steel limiting your movement. But for Henry, especially in this snowbound situation, it might be the only thing that could save him.
Chapter Eight
Day five, and Ellie was getting way too keyed up. She’d been wary about Henry ever since the incident. She’d heard about PTSD before, and knew it was common for vets, but she’d never seen it firsthand. As part of her senior capstone project, when she was leaning more toward nonprofits than being a veterinarian, she’d been placed at an organization that served a variety of mental health concerns, including PTSD. It made sense, a lingering skeleton from seeing what she could only imagine war included, but it was still worlds away from what she knew.
“Hey,” she said to Henry, sitting down at the kitchen table as he rinsed his coffee mug. “Let’s get out of the house. I’m getting antsy.”
“Out of the house?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “We’re snowbound. Or did you forget?”
“No, I didn’t forget. I mean—let’s go outside. Build a snowman, go snowshoeing. Something.”
Henry laughed. It was the first time in days. He’d clearly been avoiding her, yet acting like everything was normal. “I think I’ll take a hard pass on the snowman. But snowshoeing I can do. Getting some exercise is just what we need to work off some… energy.”
“Great, I’ll go find them.”
Snowshoeing had always been an activity she'd done with Eli and Ryan. Sure, she was the youngest, and the only girl, but she’d been a natural at it and her lanky legs helped her keep pace.
“Man, your brothers have some small feet!” Henry joked as he strapped on the snowshoes. Even though they were adjustable, he could barely squeeze in.
“Maybe you just have big feet! Like a puppy,” she said, pulling Eli’s extra thick wool hat over her ears.
“Puppies have normal-sized feet. They just grow into them,” he said.
“Well, maybe you’re still growing.”
“You know these paths, or what used to be paths, well?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. “Eli and Ryan, they both thought it was good for us, especially me, to spend family time together. Snowshoeing and hiking in these woods was our thing.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” Henry said as they slid across the icy snow. “You all were always up here. I envied that, you know,” he said. “Having brothers. I would have loved to have brothers or sisters.”
“The grass is always greener,” she said with a smile. “I love them, but you don’t know how many times I wished to be an only child! Besides, it seems like you made up for your lack of company. Wasn’t it crazy, being in the Navy? Being stuck on a ship so long with all those guys?”
“You know, it’s not just men in the Navy. Plenty of women, too,” he said.
“Oh, well, pardon me.”
“Besides, I wasn’t just in the Navy, you know. I was a Navy SEAL.”
“What’s the difference?”
“What’s the difference? Seriously, Ellie, you could do with a little education outside ivory walls. SEAL is an acronym for sea, air, and land. It’s where Navy SEALs operate—in other words, everywhere. Although we’re still primarily a water-based force.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. Most people don’t unless they’re military or family of military.”
“So… you didn’t do the whole Fleet Week thing and all that?”
He laughed. “Fleet Week? That’s what you think the Navy is all about? SEALs are the Navy’s Special Warfare Group, so no, partying from port to port isn’t really in our job description. Not that it’s in anyone’s job description.”
“Hey, us civilians can’t help it,” Ellie said, pointing up a sloping hill for their next turn. “We see the movies and that Fleet Week episode of Sex and the City, and that’s what we get out of it!”
“Well, I did attend one Fleet Week, years ago in New York when I was still in training.”
“And?” Ellie asked. Please don’t tell me about all the girls you hooked up with and how you let them wear your hat.
“And nothing,” Henry shrugged. “It was a bunch of drunk people acting stupid. The food was good, though.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “You and food,” she said.
“Hey, in Basic, you figure out survival skills you’re good at. Mine was cooking.”
“Thanks to Aunt Mary?”
“Thanks to Aunt Mary.”
“I bet your girlfriends appreciated it,” she said, sneaking a look at him.
“Girlfriends?”
“Yeah, all the Barbies. And… if you have one now…”
“Ellie, I wouldn’t be here if I had a girlfriend now.”
She shrugged. “I was just curious.”
“No girlfriend for a while now—partially because of what you saw the other night.”
“PTSD doesn’t mean you can’t have a girlfriend,” she said. Stop it, you sound like you’re trying to negotiate with him.
“Maybe for me it does,” he said. “But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Come on. Recent college grad, gorgeous sorority girl—besides that little time with the dumb kid you were dating, you must have been having a blast.”
Ellie laughed. “You have a funny idea about who I am.”
“I don’t know who you are,” he said. “That’s what I’ve realized these past few days. But I’d like to.”
“Well, there’s not much to know,” she said. “I was actually the philanthropy chair of my sorority. It’s not like I was the social chair or president. I spent most of my time studying.”
“Really, Ellie? Are you really going to tell me you went away to college and spent all your time holed up in the library?”
“Wow, okay!” she said. “Nobody studies in the library anymore. College kids have their own laptops now. I mean, there were some fun times. A group of us drove down to Miami for spring break my freshman year.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Henry said with a smile.
“Don’t get so excited! None of us had fake IDs, and we were all s
eventeen or eighteen. Contrary to what people think, those bars are really vigilant about making sure you’re legal, especially on spring break.”
“So… no wet T-shirt contests, random hookups, anything like that?”
“Ha! No, sorry to disappoint,” she said. “One of my friends did the wet T-shirt thing, but it was gross. Not like how the movies make it look. It was just in a supermarket parking lot, most of the girls were drunk, and a lot of the guys watching were actually middle-aged locals.”
“Well, did your friend win at least?” he asked.
“No! She came in fourth. But the ‘prize’ was just a twenty dollar gift card to a local coffee shop, so it’s not like she missed out on much.”
“Yeah. I never did spring break myself, either. I mean, I got my college degrees in the Navy, so I didn’t get the whole college experience at all. But I don’t feel like I missed out on anything.”
“You didn’t,” Ellie said. “I’m thankful for my experience at Georgetown, but it’s like it was just a window of time to grow up a little more. I imagine you do it a lot faster in the military.”
“Perhaps,” Henry said. “Although I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. And what about Sean?” he asked. “Isn’t college romance a big part of the whole experience?”
“It’s supposed to be, right?” she asked. “But with Sean… well, there’s not much of a social life when you’re coupled up. All the parties and everything, there’s just kind of a damper on them when you’re there with your boyfriend. Our friends were cool about it, and of course we had friends that were couples too, but it still takes you out of the whole dynamic of what you think college is supposed to be.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Henry said. “But really now. Men must be kicking down your door trying to date you—Sean or not,” he said.
“Wow, you really don’t know me!” she said. “Yeah, with two big brothers, a guy would need some pretty impressive balls to kick down my door. And now they’d have to fight through a snowbound mountain to a remote cabin!”
“But what about that idiot, Sean? How did he pass the Eli and Ryan barricade?”
“Oh, that was different. They didn’t really care because they thought he was harmless. And I was—nevermind,” she said. Stupid! You can’t tell Henry you’re still a virgin at twenty-two.
“Don’t nevermind me,” Henry said, nudging her. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing, seriously!” she said. A tiny itch wiggled its way into her nose. “They just thought he was safe, that’s all.”
“Well, maybe our president’s instincts aren’t as sharp as we thought,” he said with a smile.
Ellie couldn’t hold it in anymore and let out a sneeze. “Sorry,” she said.
“Bless you. Are you coming down with something?”
“No, I doubt it. Probably just allergies.”
“It’s the middle of winter. What are you allergic to? The cold?”
“Oh, who knows. You know, many allergies have a tendency to come on later in life—”
“Okay, Ms. Biology Major.”
“Let’s turn around,” she said. “I’m getting tired. And you’re getting too nosy!”
Even though the return to the cabin was mostly downhill, it felt like they were walking for miles. Every step required tremendous balance and strength. Ellie’s knees started to ache, and that pounding traveled up her entire body to nestle in her head.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Henry asked. “You don’t look very good.”
“Thanks, Henry,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m just really tired.”
When the cabin finally came into sight, she could feel her nose was stuffy and almost completely blocked. “Go change into something warm for once,” Henry said. “I’ll make some hot chocolate for you.”
“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me,” Ellie said. Luckily, she had packed the fleece pajama set Eli had given her last Christmas. Usually she thought it was too hot and restrictive, but now it was just what she wanted.
Changing clothes had never been so taxing. Every movement demanded all of her attention. By the time she’d made it downstairs and to the couch, chills were racing through her body and she was battling nausea.
“Wow, Ellie, you really don’t look good. Do you have a fever?” he asked, setting down the mug of steaming hot chocolate.
“I don’t know.”
“Where does Eli keep the thermometer, or the painkillers?”
“I don’t know, Henry. Please, just let me sleep.” She was so tired and the fire was lulling her into a trance. Couldn’t he just let her sleep?
“Ellie, I’m worried about you…”
She vaguely recalled him carrying her to bed, and the comfort of his arms as he cradled her. Each step toward her room felt like he was carrying her to safety and to some slice of paradise she couldn’t come close to fathoming. The fevered dreams that followed were a confusing cocktail. There was Sean, well before he made a fool out of her, and there was Sam, coolly applying blush to her cheekbones. In a flash, Eli and Ryan were there too, but they were years younger. Ryan still had his freckles from childhood and Eli’s hair hadn’t started to thin yet. Her mother’s hands were in hyperfocus, making that from-scratch monkey bread she’d nearly forgotten about, and she could hear Jeopardy playing in the other room, her father’s only television vice. Then there was Henry, somehow as he was six years ago before the war scars had clouded his face. And he was glorious.
Chapter Nine
He was used to being a caretaker, first for Aunt Mary when the cancer came, and then in the military. He’d seen his fair share of illnesses, but there was something eerie about being barricaded in the cabin with only a handful of pills to suffice—many of them expired. When he’d put Ellie to bed, he'd had to strip off her pajamas, completely soaked with her sweat. Even then, he’d struggled to not drink in her body any more than necessary.
Armed with his SEAL training, he was fast and adept at taking care of others. However, in Ellie’s state, as she ranged from giggling to painful moaning, it was a new experience. He opted for a quick makeshift sponge bath with baby wipes, taking care to avoid her underwear and bra, the two garments he felt best left alone even if they were drenched in sweat.
“Ellie?” he’d asked. “Do you want help putting on pajamas? Or—”
“No!” she’d implored suddenly. It was the most she’d communicated since they had returned to the cabin. “It’s too much work. Just… how about you cuddle with me for a—”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he’d told her. Screw it, she’d just sweat through the pajamas and right into the sheets anyway. He managed to get the sheet over her, but she immediately starting kicking away the duvet and quilt every time he pulled it over her.
“Too hot,” she moaned, her eyes screwed shut. Even with her fiery hair plastered to her face and flushed cheeks, she still looked a wonder to him.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be downstairs or in the room next door if you need me. And I’ll check on you through the night. Just call if you need me, okay?”
As he walked toward her door, planning to keep it open for the night so he could hear anything, he swore she’d mumbled, “I need you.”
It was the roughest night he’d had since the last tour—and at times nearly as petrifying. At midnight, he thought they were under attack. It wasn’t quite a PTSD episode, but close. In that lucid state between being awake and dreaming, a howling stirred him upright in bed. “Ellie?” he called.
The violent howls started up again, and he flew into her room just in time to see her vomit yesterday’s hot chocolate on the floor. “I’m sorry,” she rasped. “I couldn’t get to the bathroom fast enough.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered, stripping the soiled sheet off her. “Here, let’s take you to another bedroom,” he said. At first he’d tried to help her up, lifting her elbows, but she was too weak to move. Finally, he hoisted her up to cradle her, carrying her with ease down
the hallway and into a smaller bedroom.
“I—I think I’m gonna be sick again,” she said before he could even set her on the bed. This time, they made it to the bathroom early enough. He held her hair back in a loose ponytail until all that came out was a weak choking sound.
“This is so embarrassing,” she said, still bent over with her elbows resting on the seat. Even like this, in nothing but yesterday’s underwear, he couldn’t stop from noticing her shape, admiring the curves of her belly and the swell of her thighs.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said.
“It’s like the song,” she said lowly, spitting into the toilet.
“The song?”
“You know,” she said. Somewhere, far back and deep down, a part of him did.
Her fever raged throughout the night and into the next day. “Ellie?” he asked at dawn, leaning into her new room. “Are you up for some breakfast? Maybe some broth or tea?”
“Uh,” she muttered from under the sheet. Standing over her, he placed the back of his hand on her head, then her cheeks.
“You’re really burning up,” he said.
“Smell.”
“What?”
“You. Smell.”
He sniffed his hand. The strong scent of pine from scrubbing her former bedroom floor covered his hand. “Sorry.”
“Like a forest.”
“Yeah, well. I think that’s what they were going for,” he said.
“You should ask Mom.”
“Your mom? Helena? Ask her what?”
“You know,” she said, getting irritated and rolling over.
“I don’t know.”
“Dammit, Ryan, you’re pissing me off. Go ’way.”
By noon, she wasn’t getting any better, and he still hadn’t got any fluids into her. “Ellie? You up for some food yet? At least some water.” He’d fished a cycling bottle out of the kitchen cupboard and filled it with bottled water and a pack of Emergen-C. It was probably too late to do much good, but it couldn’t hurt.
“Henry,” she said, eyes still closed.
“That’s right,” he said. “I’m here.”