Into The Storm

by Melanie Moreland

  I hadn’t left the property for five years.

  We were stuck here.

  I could only hope she woke up soon. As soon as the storm was over, I could plow the driveway and take her to the gate. Someone could come get her and take her away.

  She could be their problem. Not mine.

  I already had enough problems of my own. I had no idea how I could help anyone else when I couldn’t even help myself.

  Chapter Two

  Joshua

  The wind howled ferociously and the heavy snow beat against the sides of the house all night. I sat in the chair beside the bed, occasionally checking on the woman to be sure she was still breathing, as well as adding logs to the fireplaces to keep the house warm.

  Bear stayed beside her all night, seemingly guarding her. Aside from the occasional groan or whimper that escaped her lips, she remained still. Once, her hands fluttered upward and what sounded like scared little gasps came out of her mouth. Unsure what to do, I made some hushing noises like my mother used to make to soothe me as a child, and I gently clasped her hands in mine and tried to tuck them back under the covers. Both of her small hands grabbed onto one of mine and gripped it fiercely. I could see bruises forming on the back of both her hands, more evidence of the cruel beating she must have endured. Her gasps stopped and she became silent again, but her grip on my hand didn’t lessen. I leaned back in the chair, allowing her hands to stay resting on top of mine. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel the normal anxiety or panic I would at being touched by a stranger. I only felt the need to allow her this small comfort, and in turn, felt like I was being offered the same.

  I studied her face in the dim light. The paleness of her skin was emphasized by the darkness of her hair that was spread across the pillow. I glanced down the bed and back up guessing she was at least a foot shorter than me. Her hands were small and well-manicured, so I doubted she did any sort of manual labor. Her face wasn’t classically beautiful, but rather attractive in a soft, lovely way. I imagined she was infinitely appealing when she smiled.

  I shook my head. Why was I wondering what she looked like when she smiled?

  I closed my eyes wearily, listening to the storm continue its destruction of the world outside the windows. Briefly, I wondered how long it would last. Last year we had one that went on for three solid days. It had taken two weeks before I was able to get my driveway plowed. A sudden sense of foreboding filled me and I opened my eyes again, staring at the woman lying in my bed.

  What if I was stuck here with her for two weeks?

  A strange gasping noise woke me with a start. I had fallen asleep in the chair, my hand still being held by the woman and the storm raging around us. Three things struck me as my eyes snapped open.

  The storm was still blowing, the wind and snow beating against the house in their fury.

  My hand was no longer being held in a death grip.

  The woman was awake, pressed against the headboard and staring at me with terror-filled eyes of the bluest cornflower shade I had ever seen. Her body was shaking with fright and I felt the urgent need to calm and reassure her.

  I stood up and she whimpered, trying to back herself even farther away. I saw her glance between me and Bear, who was sitting on the bed, head cocked, looking at her, and I knew she wasn’t sure who she should be more afraid of.

  I held up my hands in what I hoped was an innocuous gesture and smiled kindly. “He,” I nodded toward Bear, “won’t hurt you. He’s a gentle giant. He’s been watching over you all night.”

  She continued to stare at me, frightened.

  “I won’t hurt you, either. You’re safe. I promise.” For some reason, I wanted to tell her I’d been watching her too, but I kept that part to myself.

  Her voice was shaky and raw when she finally spoke. “Who are you?”

  “Josh. I’m Joshua. The huge beast sitting there is Bear,” I explained. “He’s my dog,” I added unnecessarily.

  She nodded slowly. “Where am I?”

  I sat down, thinking maybe she would relax a little if she thought I wasn’t about to pounce on her. I gave Bear the hand signal to lay down and this time he actually did what I instructed him to do.

  “You’re in my house. You, ah, got caught in the snowstorm and crashed your car on my property. Bear and I found you.”

  “You… you found me?”

  I nodded. “I think you took a wrong turn and ended up on the road leading to my place rather than the main road. The storm is really bad.” I frowned. “You shouldn’t have been out driving in it.”

  I paused, watching her. She was still tense and shaking, but didn’t seem as frightened as she had been.

  “You must have lost control of your car and hit a tree. You hit your head on the steering wheel pretty hard. You were out cold when I found you.”

  Her hand came up and gingerly touched her head. I saw her wince as her fingers made contact with the bruised skin. Then her hand drifted down to her cheek and paused. “I hit my face as well?” she whispered.

  I paused, not sure what to say now. “You, um, seem to have several sets of bruises on you,” I said quietly, indicating she should look at her hands.

  She stared down at them, examining the bruising, but saying nothing. She looked at the massively large shirt she was wearing and glanced back up me. “This isn’t mine?” she questioned, her voice hesitant.

  I shook my head. “The passenger side door had flown open with the impact of the crash. You were wet from the snow being blown in. I took off your wet clothes.”

  Her eyes opened wide in fear again. ”You took off my clothes?” I could hear the panic in her voice.

  “I only did that to put dry ones on you while I check your injuries. I swear. I didn’t remove your underwear,” I hastened to assure her. “I only wanted to help you.” I wanted her to believe me. I wanted her to stop looking at me with so much fear in those huge, blue eyes.

  “I saw other bruises,” I added gently.

  “Where?”

  “Your, ah, your legs and your arms.”

  I watched as she pulled the covers back and rolled up the shorts I had put on her. In the dim light of the overcast day the bruises looked even darker, and I could clearly see the imprint of a shoe. She traced over the bruises again, not saying a word.

  Then she glanced back up. “I don’t know you. How do I know you didn’t do this?”

  I sat back, shocked, and felt a ripple of anger go through me. She thought I had done this? I took in a deep calming breath and stood up, approaching the bed. Instantly she shrank away.

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I just want to show you something that will prove I didn’t do this to you.”

  “How?” she questioned me, her voice trembling.

  “Do you see the imprint on your leg?” I asked, pointing to the large bruise.

  Looking down she nodded. “Someone kicked me?”

  “Not me. It was not me. Can I show you?” I kept my voice soft and calm, feeling the desperate need, for some reason, to show her it was not me who inflicted those injuries.

  She regarded me for a moment, and then nodded. I grabbed the back of the chair, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep steady, and slowly raised my foot and laid it beside her thigh. We could both see my foot was easily two sizes larger than the imprint on her leg. I saw her shoulders relax a little and heard her breath release.

  “I’m going to sit beside you now, okay?”

  Again, she nodded.

  “Roll up your shirt sleeve. Just the sleeve. Hold your arm out. Please. I won’t hurt you.”

  She regarded me silently for a moment, then I watched her wince as she lifted her arm and rolled up one sleeve and held it out slightly, trembling in fear.

  “I’m going to touch your arm now, all right? I’m just going to show you something, I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  She nodded warily and I lifted her arm higher, the loose shirt falling away even more, revealing the
deep bruising on the upper part of her flesh. She gasped when she saw it, and then watched as I silently placed my hand over the imprints that the bastard, who had done this, left behind. My long fingers and large palm easily encompassed the mark showing both of us there was no way my hand could have left them. “I didn’t hurt you. I found you like this. I swear. I would never, ever strike a woman,” I spoke slowly and with conviction.

  “I… I believe you. Thank you for showing me,” she whispered as her eyes drifted up and met mine. I was relieved to feel a little more of her tension ease away. I removed my hand and helped her lower her arm back down.

  “The question is; who did do this to you? Who were you running from last night?” I asked quietly.

  I watched a multitude of emotions play out across her face.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

  I sighed. She was hiding something.

  “What is your name?”

  Her mouth opened, and then her brow furrowed in concentration.

  “I don’t know.” Her voice was filled with confusion.

  “You don’t know?” I repeated, dubiously.

  Her expressive eyes widened and filled with tears.

  “I can’t remember how I got here and I can’t remember my name.”

  Chapter Three

  Joshua

  I stared at her, watching the tears fall down her cheeks. I was wrong, she wasn’t hiding anything; I could see from the fear and confusion in her eyes that she couldn’t remember. Wanting to comfort her somehow, I reached down and stroked her hands gently. “You hit your head pretty hard. No doubt things are fuzzy. I’m sure when you feel better, you’ll remember.”

  She continued to stare at me, frightened and upset. “I’m going to make some coffee and something to eat. Do you feel up to joining me in the kitchen?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet.

  I saw her glance down dubiously at the shorts she was wearing. I stood up and grabbed a pair of sweats and a heavier shirt out of the drawer, along with a pair of socks, and handed them all to her. “I know they’ll be far too big, but they’ll keep you warm. The only heat sources we have are the fireplaces. The storm has knocked out the power and I need to make the generators last as long as possible. So we’ll have to stick to the rooms with the fireplaces, okay?”

  She nodded silently.

  “The kitchen is in the front of the house; it’s sort of one big room, so you’ll find it easily. Come join me when you’re ready.” I indicated the door behind me. “There’s a bathroom right there. Help yourself to whatever you need. There’s hot water if you want a shower. Just keep it as short as possible, please?”

  Again, she nodded silently. I watched her wince as she tried to move from her defensive position against the headboard. For a brief moment, she sat on the edge of the bed and then stood up. As she went to step forward, she gasped in pain and stumbled. Instantly, I lunged forward, catching her before she hit the floor. Instead of falling, she ended up pressed against me, a shaking mass of raw sobs. Unsure what to do, I held her loosely, not wanting to press what were obviously very painful injuries. Surprisingly, she allowed me to hold her and soothe her. I stood, feeling her resting against me and found myself noticing how well she seemed to mould into me, her head fitting right under my chin as she sobbed. Tentatively, I raised my hand and lightly stroked her back, trying to calm her.

  Why did she feel so right in my arms?

  Slowly her sobs eased off, and I pulled away. Leaning down, I tilted her chin up with my finger so I could see her eyes. The pain and fear I saw in them tore directly into my heart and I found I wanted to erase both. Gently, I eased her back down on the mattress, handed her some Kleenex and went into the bathroom. I found the painkillers that I used when the agony was too much to handle, and filled a glass with water. Returning to her, I showed her the bottle so she wouldn’t add the fear of me trying to drug her to the mix, and gave her two of the pills. I sat beside her as Bear came up to rest his head on her knee, adoration in his eyes as he stared up at her. I shook my head at his actions.

  “What?” she asked; her voice raw and broken.

  “He doesn’t go to anyone but me. He is as leery of strangers as I am. But he seems to have taken a liking to you.”

  “Where did you get him?”

  I told her about rescuing him not long after I had moved here. He was just a puppy and it seemed to be the right fit. Both of us were abused and needed to heal; we helped each other. He was a great companion for me, and Bear had a good life here. I made sure he was treated well and would never be hurt again. I spoke quietly and gave the medication time to start easing the pain before she moved again. As I talked, I watched the pain fade a little from her eyes.

  “Ready to try again?” I asked.

  She nodded and this time I helped her up. She still winced and moved slowly but she was able to stay upright.

  “Do you want me to bring you something to eat in here?”

  She shook her head no.

  “Do you feel up to coming to the kitchen?”

  She nodded, so I helped her into the bathroom. She promised to call if she needed me; I told her I would leave her alone but I wanted the door open so I could hear her. Again, she nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “I won’t leave the kitchen unless you call. Okay?”

  Her eyes looked up at me for a minute, unblinking. “Okay,” she whispered.

  Calling Bear to come with me, I left.

  I made my way to the kitchen slowly; I was stiff from sleeping in the chair and my leg was aching with the strain from yesterday. I stood at the counter for a minute, thinking about what had just happened. I had no idea why it was so important that I comfort her. I shook my head at my own odd behavior. My mind seemed to have a will of its own at the moment and I couldn’t stop the reactions. I started the coffee and grabbed some eggs from the refrigerator. All the appliances were working, thanks to the generators. I heard the water start-up and was pleased to know the woman was able to get into the shower. I stopped for a minute again, thinking. I couldn’t keep calling her ‘the woman.’ How should I address her? I puzzled briefly, and then decided I would figure it out later. Earlier, I had hoped she wouldn’t be here long enough for me to have to address her at all. But looking out at the storm, still pounding away outside, I knew that probably wasn’t going to be the case.

  Just as I was finishing up the scrambled eggs, I heard a noise behind me and turned. She was swimming in my grey sweatshirt and pants with the arms and legs rolled up; staring at me with those huge blue eyes, filled with trepidation, and looking totally lost. Her hair was wet and hung down past her shoulders. Her face was so pale, and the bruises stood out vividly against the white of her skin. She was clutching my socks in one hand. Again, I felt the need to comfort her, and without thinking, held out my hand in a gesture of welcome. I watched her look from my face to my hand, then her arm raised and she moved forward, painfully slowly, placing her hand in mine. I smiled at her and squeezed her hand softly; mindful of how sore it must be with the bruises on it. “Need help with those socks?” I asked gently.

  She nodded. “It, um, really hurts to bend over. I couldn’t get them on.”

  I felt my anger flare. Of course it hurt; no doubt her ribs were badly bruised if not cracked. I tamped down my anger and knelt down, quickly tucking her feet into my socks. I grimaced. Even her feet had bruises on them.

  Fucking bastard, whoever he was.

  I stood up. “Rather large, but they’ll keep your feet warm.” I smiled at her and was rewarded with a shaky little smile in return. I guided her to the table and then set down a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. I took a seat beside her and held up the coffee pot in silent invitation. She nodded and I filled her cup, watching as she added cream and a tiny amount of sugar before stirring it and taking a sip.

  “Thank you,” she breathed quietly. “I love coffee.” She smiled, and then froze, staring at her cup.


  “What is it?” I asked, startled. Did she think I had added something to the coffee? Was she in more pain?

  She looked up at me, confused. “How can I not know my name, yet I know I love coffee? Or, how I take it? I didn’t even think before adding the cream and sugar. That doesn’t make sense!” I saw her chin begin to quiver again.

  I looked at her, perplexed, unsure how to respond. Then I shrugged my shoulders. “I have no idea. Maybe after we eat, we can try to figure it out. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I smiled. “Eat your breakfast then and we’ll see what we can find.” I pushed her plate towards her. She could use some food. She was far too thin, in my opinion.

  I smiled as I watched her pick up her fork and take a bite.

  “It’s good. Thank you.”

  I picked up my own fork, satisfied she would eat. “You’re welcome.”

  After breakfast, I took her upstairs to the huge loft, where my office was located. It was the only thing on the second floor. The walls were lined with books and my desk was at the front, overlooking the entire main floor. When I was seated, I could look out and see the surrounding woods and the large lake that spread out in front of the property. The ever-changing landscape often provided me great comfort or inspiration while I worked. Watching the trees dance in the wind or the snow swirl in the air was a welcome distraction at times. I watched as she walked around slowly, looking at all the books. On the shelves were different awards I had won, but she didn’t pay much attention to them. There was a large chair where I often sat and went through notes, or just sat and read, Bear usually asleep at my feet. I directed her to the chair and made sure she was okay before I perused the shelves. I found the medical books I kept on hand for research and handed one of them to her.

  “What am I looking for?” she asked.

  “Any information on head trauma, memory loss, that sort of thing,” I instructed as I sat down at my desk with a large volume.

  Silence filled the room, except for the turning of pages, for the next few minutes. Not finding anything of help in the book I had, I stood up to go get another one and looked over towards the chair. She was asleep, the book hanging loosely from her fingers, and Bear sitting right beside her, again standing guard. She looked so vulnerable and small. She reminded me of ... something. I searched my brain, and then realized what it was. A frightened rabbit. One of the little grey ones I saw from the woods all the time. I smiled at the comparison. She had also looked at me the way they did, all frightened and confused as I threw out feed for them, not sure what I was doing. Strangely enough, she also looked so right, dressed in my too-big clothes, curled into my chair with Bear beside her. I felt a sudden rush of tenderness as I studied her. I shook my head.