Stranded

by Chance Carter

  “So tell me what you were thinking about, and don’t say you don’t know,” she urged, her smile turning up the side of her mouth. He looked down at her curiously, searching every inch of her face. It was those looks, just like that, that made her wonder why he’d never kissed her. It was one of those sexy looks that could completely unglue her.

  “I was just thinking about you, honestly,” he said, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

  “Me? Really?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What about me?” She asked curiously, raising her head to see him better.

  He chuckled softly, gently pressing her head back down against his chest with a strong hand. “Nothing bad, I promise. I was just thinking about how glad I am that I met you. All of you, really, but in particular you.”

  “That’s a nice thing to say. What made you think about that?” she asked quietly, her arms holding him a little tighter. She couldn’t help but be moved.

  “I’m just happy, girly. That’s all. You make me happy.”

  “I do, huh?” she pressed playfully. “How exactly do I do that?”

  “You just make me feel loved, is all. I don’t have a damn thing holding me back anymore. It just feels good, you know?” he admitted, looking down at her again. She nodded, but couldn’t help but wonder if he meant what he said. She felt like he was still holding back on some level, otherwise why hadn’t he kissed her? She sensed he wanted to. Didn’t he?

  “What is it?” he asked, raising her chin with his fingers. “You look confused?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to.”

  “Well that’s one thing you can’t seem to control, Joss ... your face gives away every feeling you have. It’s one of the things I adore about you,” he teased, chuckling softly.

  “I hate it,” she pouted playfully.

  “I love it, I know exactly what you’re thinking at all times.”

  “I wish I could say the same for you, Grant. I wish I knew what you were thinking. You’re so carefully guarded.”

  “Am I?” he laughed softly, knowing full well she was right. His words were followed by a moment of silence before he asked again, “so what did I say that upset you?”

  “No, I’m not upset, just confused.”

  “About what?”

  She sat up, crossing her legs beneath her. There were so many things she needed clarity on, questions she needed an answer to, and maybe the timing was right. She had to try, she thought, searching his eyes. He smiled at her sweetly, encouraging her to speak.

  “I know that you’ve come a long way, we both have, and I know you said you don’t have anything holding you back, but I’m not sure that’s true...” she hedged, anxiously searching for the right words.

  “How so?”

  “I feel so close to you, like really close...,” she continued, pausing to gather her thoughts, “and I know that you feel the same...”

  He nodded his head, his eyes dropping to the ground, as if he knew exactly where she was going. She paused again to see if he would let her off the hook. He didn’t.

  “I have really strong feelings for you, Grant. I feel like at times I’ve made it pretty clear how much I want to kiss you, to touch you, to be with you...”

  “You have, Joss, I know,” he sighed, reaching for her hand. He gently rubbed her knuckles, stalling while he gathered his own thoughts. She patiently waited for him to get where he needed to be. He looked up at her and smiled. “I’m falling for you too.”

  “Then why?” she asked, leaning in towards him, her eyes begging for an answer.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered.

  “You do.”

  He slowly exhaled, as though afraid to speak his truth, pausing for a really long time. Joss pulled back, suddenly wondering if she was ready for the truth after all.

  “Joss, I don’t think I can be intimate with you. Not here, not like this,” he confessed, his eyes asking her to understand.

  “What do you mean? Not on the island? Not like what?”

  “Like this, with the others. Charlie, Ryan, Willie, Daniel...I know they love you, Joss, that you have a special bond with each of them. I get it, I do. I just can’t...”

  Joss leaned away, her mind trying to grasp his words. She raised her eyes to his, trying to hide her confusion, her guilt. She didn’t blame him. The truth was, she still struggled with it herself, the separate relationships, the physical connections, the love. It scared her to death sometimes, how attached she was to all of them. She couldn’t imagine her life without any one of them, even Grant. But he didn’t want her.

  “Please don’t be hurt, Joss,” he begged, reaching out for her. He took her hands in his, forcing her to meet his eyes. “It’s not you. You’re not doing anything wrong. It’s me. I just don’t think I could share you with anyone else. I’m a jealous guy. I always have been. I want my woman to want me and no one else. Maybe that’s selfish, maybe it’s stupid, but every time I think about you with someone else, it makes me crazy. Imagine if we were sleeping together?”

  “So we just stay friends?” she asked, visualizing what that meant for them; and if it would always stay that way.

  “Good friends,” he assured. “You and I are such similar creatures, Joss. I see so much of myself in you. I think we have a connection that transcends the physical. I don’t want to lose that. I’ve been so fractured for the better part of my life and I feel like I’m on my way to healing that. I have you to thank for that. The others too, but really it has been the ability to see myself through your eyes that has set me free. I’m terrified of being hurt again, but more than that, I’m afraid of hurting you.”

  She took a deep breath, allowing his confession to land on her, to really let it sink in. He was right, of course. She couldn’t ask him for anything else, and yet her heart wanted so much more.

  “I respect that, Grant,” she conceded, her smile reassuring him, “and yet I can’t help but think how amazing it would be to be with you, intimately. Wouldn’t it be hot?”

  “It would be sizzling...off the fucking charts,” he chuckled. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it myself; but for now, this is all I am capable of.”

  “I know,” she said, squeezing his hands. “It’s enough. I can’t ask you to sacrifice your peace of mind. I want you to be happy.”

  “I know you do, and I want the same for you. You’re my angel. But in the same way you saved me, you could also destroy me,” he teased, pulling her back into his embrace.

  They lay back down together, comforted by one another’s others arms, peacefully contemplating their connection.

  Although his last words were light, Joss sensed an underlying truth that couldn’t be ignored, and she couldn’t help feeling sad.

  Chapter 25

  “How are you feeling, Ryan?” Joss asked, placing a cool hand on his forehead. He was very warm, his skin clammy and pale. He’d arrived home from the watering hole two days earlier, complaining of a headache, and had gone to bed early to sleep it off. He’d been there ever since. Joss slept beside him both nights, checking in on him throughout the night, making sure he was hydrated and offering him Tylenol, but he had not improved at all.

  “I’ve been better,” he croaked, squinting at her through swollen eyelids. She was worried. It was the first time any of them had taken ill since the crash, aside from Grant’s concussion, and it suddenly dawned on her how vulnerable they actually were. They had been so lucky up till then. “My body is aching. I’m not sure I’ll be of much use again today.”

  “The Tylenol isn’t helping much, is it?” she asked, placing a moist cloth over his brow.

  “A little bit maybe. Are there any left?”

  Joss picked up the bottle and popped the lid, finding only a half dozen or so left inside. When they first went through their supplies, they’d found a small stash in the first aid kit, a few months out of date, but still better than nothing. At the time, they agreed to not to use them unless they absolutely n
eeded them, but it was fair to say, this was one of those times.

  “There are about three doses left. I’d like to break your fever, offer you some relief, but I also think we need to let your body fight the virus, and the fever will help kill off whatever is running amok inside you. Do you think you can bear it?” she asked, pulling her wrap over him.

  “I think I can tough it out. Sorry to be such a burden,” he shivered, coughing into his fist. “Ouch, even that hurts. Nothing worse than a man-cold. You’d think I was dying.”

  “I think it’s a little worse than a cold,” she razzed lightly, doing her best to hide her concern. “I think your griping is justified. Just take it easy for the day. I’ll bring you some broth as soon as it’s ready.”

  “I’ll be here, whining like a little bitch” he said, patting her hand. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

  Joss nodded, and stood up, hesitant to leave him. Whatever he’d picked up was taking a firm hold, and the next few days were going to be miserable for him. She didn’t like seeing him suffer.

  “How’s he doing?” Charles asked, meeting her just outside the shelter, handing her a coconut shell filled with water. He was clearly just as concerned as she was, a worried expression etched on his face.

  “He seems to be getting worse. I’m guessing his fever is around 102, but without a thermometer it’s hard to know. The only thing we can do is wait it out,” Joss explained, pouring the warm water over her hands. She handed the bowl back to him, shaking away the excess water, then drying her hands on her shirt.

  “Anything I can do?” he asked, lowering his voice, so as not to disturb Ryan.

  “Not yet. He just needs to rest, let his immune system ramp up. Hopefully he can fight it off in the next 48 hours.”

  “And if he can’t?” Charlie whispered, asking the question she wasn’t ready to face. She shook her head, silently answering him, afraid to voice her concerns out loud. The truth was, they were at the mercy of fate. If he got any sicker; if he needed fluids, pain meds, antibiotics, anything beyond Tylenol and TLC, there was nothing they could do to help him.

  “Any chance he might be contagious?” he asked pragmatically, not wanting to add to their worries but concerned just the same, especially for Joss, who was obviously the one in closest contact.

  “There’s always a chance. I have no idea what we’re dealing with. We’ll have to hope for the best. Probably a good idea for you guys to keep your distance, just in case, and keep washing your hands.”

  “Okay,” he nodded solemnly, “Let’s tell the guys.”

  They travelled back to the fire together, using the short distance to shake off the worst of their concerns. They didn’t want to panic the others unnecessarily. The guys looked up from their seats, gauging Joss’ expression. She smiled weakly at them, brushing away her bangs with the back of her hand.

  “So?” Grant asked, patting the seat beside him. Joss sat down, taking the plate of food Daniel offered her. She didn’t have much of an appetite, but appreciated the gesture none the less.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking a small bite of fish. It was hard to swallow, her emotion tight in her throat, but she choked it down anyway. “He’s doing ok, for now,” she assured, hoping her tone sounded less anxious than she felt.

  “Does he still have a fever?” Willie asked, not hiding his uneasiness. It had been him that practically carried Ryan to the shelter two nights earlier, and he was sick with worry.

  “Yes. Whatever he has is taking its toll on him. I will take care of him. No point in all of us being exposed to whatever is making him sick,” she insisted, nodding her head for emphasis.

  Daniel crouched down beside her, resting his hand on her knee. “What can we do?” Joss was walking an emotional tight rope and his tenderness almost brought tears to her eyes. She cleared her throat and smiled, pushing down her anxiety. She had to be strong for them.

  “I need you guys to carry on with whatever needs doing, just like always. Worrying is just going to add to all of your stress. I got this, okay?”

  “We know you do, Joss,” Grant gently assured, sensing her distress. He didn’t like her placing so much pressure on herself, not when he was injured, and not now. It hurt his heart to see her like that. “We’ll be okay. We’ll take care of shit around here, right guys?”

  They all nodded at her, each of them struggling with their own thoughts. They loved Ryan and it sucked feeling so helpless.

  * * *

  Later that night Joss tried offering Ryan some broth again. He had thrown up earlier that day and was quite dehydrated. He could barely keep his head up, and she had a hard time getting him to drink it. He complained that his sore throat made it too difficult to swallow. Using a small flash light, she was able to take a quick look inside. It didn’t look good. His throat was swollen and full of pus, the worst she had ever seen. It was no surprise that he was having issues swallowing. His fever also seemed worse. He was burning up, and could barely focus his eyes. Whatever he had, it was rapidly progressing. She tried to keep him cool by placing wet cloths on his head and body, but without ice it was futile. His core body temperature was too high. She was really starting to worry.

  “Do you think you can swallow some pills, Ryan?” she asked, helping him to sit up. His body was dead weight, and she tucked herself behind him to hold him up. He mumbled something she couldn’t quite understand, resting his head against her shoulder.

  “Baby, can you stay with me for just a minute more,” she stammered, gently shaking him. He responded again, this time a little clearer.

  “I don’t think...can’t...” he croaked through chapped lips.

  “I need you to try,” she insisted assertively. As his lover she felt nothing but compassion for him, but as his nurse she needed to take charge, and that meant pushing him as far as she could. He depended on her whether he liked it or not.

  “Okay Joss...” he whispered, closing his eyes once more, slipping back to the dark. She felt him grow heavy in her arms.

  “Ryan, please wake up. Take the Tylenol, then you can go back to sleep,” she begged, propping him up again. He opened his mouth, allowing her to place the pills inside, then took a sip of water.

  She could tell he was in pain trying to swallow them down, but he did it. She felt relieved, accepting even the smallest victory, and prayed that his fever would come down. She had suspected dengue fever all along, but it was confirmed when she noticed a rash developing on his neck and face. She convinced herself that if she could keep him resting and hydrated, he would be okay. He’d feel like shit for a week or two, but he’d pull through. It was the best they could hope for, and at least it wasn’t contagious. Worst case scenario? She didn’t want to think about it but she knew she had to be prepared. He could develop severe dengue, which had the potential to be deadly, and without proper treatment or a hospital, death was almost a guarantee.

  “Thanks Joss,” he mumbled, resting his head against her again. She held him for a few minutes, listening to his labored breathing, wishing she could do more. His body was hot against hers, making her feel extra uncomfortable in the heat of the shelter, but she refused to let him go.

  The next few days were much of the same. Unfortunately, the Tylenol ran out and Joss had to research a natural remedy to ease Ryan’s suffering. She sent Charles and Grant searching for a Neem tree. She was certain she’d seen some in her travels and gave them directions, offering them the map she had drawn in her journal, circling where she suspected they would be. Her medicinal plant book suggested that the leaves could be steeped in hot water, the brew helping to increase both blood platelet count and white blood cell count, two of the most dangerous effects of the dengue virus. She hoped the tea would also improve his immune system and return his strength much faster.

  Getting him to drink it was another story. It was tough to swallow, not because his throat hurt so bad, but because it tasted like crap. The first few times she offered it to him he spit it out, too delirious to kno
w it was for his own good. Finally, with a lot of coaxing and sweetening the tea with a little mango juice, he finally accepted the bitter brew.

  By day five of his sickness, his fever dropped rapidly, but it wasn’t a good sign. He became restless and agitated, and complained of severe abdominal pain. Joss second guessed her decision to administer the Neem tea, fearing he may have had an allergic reaction, or worse, she may have mistakenly poisoned him. But when his gums started bleeding, then his nose, she knew what was happening. The worst case scenario. He was dying.

  The guys were having dinner by the fire, the mood solemn, their noise level respectful. It had been four days, all of them waiting with bated breath for some positive news, for their dear friend to get better. When they looked up at her with hope in their eyes, she lost it, crumpling to the ground sobbing, unable to control her tears. Charles was by her side in seconds, wrapping his arms around her, whispering soothing words in her ear.

  “What is it, Joss?” Daniel asked, crouching down in front of her, his gut tight with fear.

  She looked up at him, not even bothering to wipe the tears off her face, and shook her head, unable to spit the words out. Daniel dropped to his knees, his face contorted in pain, wordless, silent, forgetting to breathe. He began to shake, his lungs begging for oxygen, but he was afraid to inhale, for fear that his exhale would end in a scream. Finally he took a breath, and began to sob, scared to death to hear the words Joss had to say.

  “Is he gone?” Willie asked quietly, placing a hand on Daniel’s shoulder to offer him comfort. Joss shook her head again, catching her breath.

  Barely audible, she choked, “No...but...it is not looking good for him.”

  “Is it what you warned us could happen?” Grant asked, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his face pulled in despair.