Adam

by Kris Michaels

  Betty grabbed her coat and started to the door with him. “I’ll tend to the animals tonight. Bring our girl home, Adam.”

  *

  Keelee banked the small fire she had built in the far corner of the root cellar. The roof still hung partially over the area and blocked the snow from falling directly onto the flame. She’d pulled all the old dry wood she could move to the corner and had spread the clothes she brought in the packs on the earth. Her head hurt to the point she was nauseated. She was cold, and she was going to get colder. The weather forecast for tonight was for sub-zero temps. The only saving grace was most of the wind blew right past the hole in the ground. Keelee melted snow in the bottom of an old mason jar warmed by the fire and she would eat from the stores she had brought with her. Keeping her body strong was important to fight off the cold. She knew how to survive. Her dad had prepared her for a tough life because ranching wasn’t for sissies.

  She stared up out of the hole in the ground and tried to calculate the hour. It was well past sunset. That happened a little after five these days. Six or seven? Maybe a bit later, but not much. That meant at least eighteen hours before she could start to hope for a rescue. No one could come way out here… at night… in a blizzard. Keelee dropped her head back against the wall and winced when the goose egg on the back of her head hit the hard earth.

  She tucked her legs back against her chest and grimaced at the throbbing of her left ankle. She’d bruised herself up, that’s for sure. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that didn’t ache. The last time she had felt this sick was when she was at the line shack with Adam.

  Her eyes misted and she swiped angrily at the tears. Adam—she had to learn to get past him. He had told her point blank what he thought of her, or rather, what he didn’t think of her. The humiliation and shame she felt as they rode down this very mountain in complete silence was as sharp today as it had been almost two years ago. Her face flamed at the memories. After a couple days, he’d tried to talk to her. God, she’d been mortified. She’d thought he desired her, but boy howdy, had she read that wrong.

  Keelee closed her eyes and then opened them again in a panic. Sleeping right now with the whap she took to the head probably wouldn’t be the smartest action. She took several large chunks of wood shelving and added the fuel to the fire, banking it carefully to ensure coals would remain should she doze later.

  Wrapping her arms around herself, she curled into a ball and thought of Adam. His muscled, sculpted body and thick blond hair were simply perfect. And those sexy dimples. God, Adam’s dimples were so prominent when he laughed. Not that she had seen that much since the line shack. They spoke now, in passing, and only as friends. But he never really smiled or laughed anymore. He’d changed so much.

  Keelee shifted and gazed up out of the hole she was in. Huh… wasn’t that just funny. You’re stuck in a pit. Keelee snorted and then laughed. She spoke to the snowflakes that drifted into the void. “Girl, you hit your head just a smidge too hard this time, didn’t you?”

  *

  Adam cussed in frustration. He was supposed to have turned to the east prior to reaching the line shack, but in the dark and the blinding snow, he’d missed the landmarks Betty had told him to look for. After ensuring Keelee wasn’t inside the shack, he had circled back and found the pass. He gunned the machine up the ridge but lost precious time. He hadn’t seen any tracks from Keelee’s snowmobile—not that he expected to. The damn wind would cover anything in less than fifteen minutes. He prayed she was at the homestead. As he topped out and traveled through the pass, he said a silent prayer. He wasn’t a religious man, but he had faith. In his occupation, you knew there was a power higher than you at work. Some of the shit he’d seen… he’d swear on his soul there was a God and miracles did, in fact, happen.

  At the cusp of the pass, he slowed and stopped his machine. Darkness enveloped him when he turned off the headlight. He sat for several minutes until his eye adjusted to the almost pitch black of the night. Damn, it was brutal cold. His arctic wear kept him from freezing, but it sure as hell wasn’t keeping him warm. He stood on the foot rails of the snowmobile and searched the night. In the distance, he saw a dull glow. About a thousand yards to his northeast. Adam hit the start switch and headed down the ridge. If that light was Keelee, she was in trouble. No one would camp in the middle of the meadow during a snowstorm.

  He descended into a small bowl and immediately lost any sign of the illumination he had seen earlier. His headlight plowed into the darkness, allowing only a tunnel of vision. Heading toward where he believed he had observed the glow, he carefully reconned the area for anything that would indicate Keelee had been this way.

  Adam cut the motor of the snowmobile again and sat waiting for his vision to acclimatize to the darkness. He lifted again and saw darkened structures to his right. A shell of a house lay dark, without signs of life. The howling wind had mounded drifts of snow and covered the area between the buildings. Adam got off the machine and shouldered his pack. The house would be the obvious place to shelter, so he struck out. The deep snow hindered his stride, but he made short work of traversing the open area. A barbed wire fence obscured by a rise of snow nearly cut him in half. Thank God for layers of clothes. Adam worked in between the top two strands of wire, throwing his bag over the fence before he ducked through.

  The front door of the house stood open. Adam snapped on a flashlight and searched the abandoned structure. The small kitchen had a hand pump at the sink. There were two bedrooms off the tiny living room. Adam searched for any sign Keelee had been in the house. No indication anything human or animal had been in the house for a long time.

  The only other place that would offer a break from the wind was the outbuilding. Shouldering his pack, he set out. Adam stilled as soon as he left the house. He lifted his head and drew in a deep breath of the blistering cold air. Smoke. He faced into the wind and drew another breath. The odor was definitely coming from upwind.

  “Keelee!” His shout shattered the night. Adam brought his fingers to his lips and let loose with the loudest whistle he could manage. The sharp, piercing noise bounced off the house’s exterior.

  Adam heard a faint sound. A call? Maybe? Once again, he rent the howling wind with a long whistle. There. He heard it again. The sound may have come from the remains of the outbuilding. Adam strode as quickly as the drifted snow would allow.

  His whistle once again blasted forward. “Keelee!”

  “Here! I’m down here!” Adam strained against the deep snow. His awkward run-shuffle brought him towards her voice.

  “Keelee! Where are you?”

  “Adam? Adam! Be careful! I’ve fallen into a root cellar!” Her voice seemed to float from the darkness.

  “Keep talking! Where are you?” He turned on the flashlight, no longer needing his night vision.

  “I’m down here. There is a massive hole at the top of a large mound between the barn and the house!”

  Adam crested the small hill he had assumed was a drift and stopped a couple of feet from the edge. He could see the glow from the fire. It illuminated piles of dirt and snow, but he couldn’t see her.

  “I’m here. Where are you?”

  “I’m under you. This is the only part of the cellar that still has a roof. I can’t move. When I fell, I hurt my back and twisted my ankle. I built a fire, I shouldn’t have curled up by the fire. I stopped moving. I think the cold and the fall… God, I just hurt!”

  Adam dropped his pack and opened it. She was talking and making sense. A good start. “All right. I got you. No worries. I’m going to secure a rope to my snowmobile and be right back.”

  Adam made quick work of tying off the length of nylon rope. Testing the knots before he fashioned a harness around his legs, he rappelled into the hole. Several feet of earth that once comprised the roof crumbled under his direct weight on the rope as he dropped into the root cellar. Adam hit the floor and searched the corner. His eyes fell on her, huddled in the corner of th
e hole. She was filthy, covered in dirt and absolutely the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  Untangling himself from the rope, he was at her side in two steps.

  “Why are you here? You were supposed to be gone for at least three weeks. Not that I’m complaining.” She gave him a crooked smile. “You see, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” The woman’s snorted laughter made him pause. She was one hell of a tough cookie.

  “We can talk about why I’m back later. I need to ensure you haven’t done too much damage to yourself.” His immediate concerns flew away as she moved her arms and legs slowly. With a sigh of relief, he did a quick assessment, his questions professional and brisk. Years of training took over. His mind listed possible issues and removed them with each test.

  “Any numbness to your legs or arms when you fell?” He did a quick exam of the knot she pointed out on her head.

  “Ah, no, but it hurt like hell.” Her pout was adorable.

  “Did you lose consciousness?” He waited while she thought.

  “No, I don’t think so. If I did, it was momentary.” She lifted those big blue eyes to him and smiled. “Dad always said I had a hard head.”

  Adam huffed a semi-laugh. “Your father may have contributed that particular gene.”

  Keelee laughed and then moaned. “Oh, I’m so telling him you said that.”

  “Are you nauseous? Headache? Tiredness?”

  “Well, yeah. I whapped my head pretty hard? I have a bitch of a headache and I’m exhausted, but I guess the cold could be making me this tired. Every time I close my eyes, I get a small wave of nausea. Nothing I can’t live with.”

  Adam examined her eyes and used his flashlight to dilate her pupils. Great. Concussion.

  “Are you sure you didn’t lose consciousness?” As he spoke, he palpated the contused area at the back of her head.

  Keelee hissed as he found a tender spot. “Ahhh… ouch! Hey, stop that!” She slapped at his hand and pulled away from his exam. “I’ve probably got a concussion. I knew better than to go to sleep. Now would you please stop? When you make me move, it hurts.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection and closed her eyes.

  “Are your ribs sore?” She didn’t give any indication of respiratory distress, no neuro-muscular issues that he could determine. The soft tissue damage from the fall and a concussion from the blow to the head seemed to be the extent of her injuries.

  “Ahh… yeah, but I just hurt all over.” She closed her eyes and swallowed several times. “I don’t think I can climb out of here.”

  Doc chuckled. “Relax. I’ll give you a ride out.”

  Her head whipped around and she sucked in a hiss of air from the sudden movement. “I know you Guardian guys think you’re all Greek gods and such, but there is no way you’re going to be able to lift me and climb out of here.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “R-really.”

  Her shiver didn’t escape his notice. He narrowed his eyes for a second and nodded. “Challenge accepted.” He stood and considered the roof, ten feet up. Doc kicked dirt, covering the small fire extinguishing it so that his flashlight was now the only light.

  “Alright, the fastest way for me to do this is not going to be the most comfortable for you. Sorry.” He held out a hand and waited until she put her hand into his. “Stand up for me.” She rose slowly, aided by his pull. When she was almost to her feet, he stooped and pulled her arm across his shoulder, standing to lift her off the ground.

  “Adam! Oh my God, that hurts! Put me down!”

  “Yeah, sorry babe. This is the only way I can climb out and set you on the lip of the roof.” He put his arm between her legs. “Hook your ankles together and keep them locked.”

  Her hissed swearwords as she linked her injured ankle around him seemed to echo off the walls.

  “Sorry, I know it’s not going to be easy, but we need to get out of here.”

  “Don’t waste your breath. I can do this.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Let me know when you’re ready.” He waited until she nodded. “Okay, grab a hold of my coat with your hands. Brace yourself against my back and don’t let go.”

  “This isn’t going to work. You can’t climb with me on your shoulders.” Her moaned words told him just how uncomfortable she was.

  “Right, thanks for the vote of confidence. Now hold on and hush up, woman.” Doc pocketed the flashlight, removed his gloves and tucked them into his coat. He lifted his arms and found purchase on the rope. Several hand-over-hand pulls later, he had her far enough out of the cellar to allow her to flop onto the snow-covered ledge.

  “Umph… damn it—that was expectedly uncomfortable.” Keelee didn’t move after her mumbled complaint. Her legs still dangled into the hole.

  “Yeah, I’m not really known for my bedside manners. Stay still.” He pulled twice more and lifted out of the pit.

  She waved a hand and murmured, “I’m so not moving.”

  Doc dropped the rope and lifted her in his arms. It took several minutes in the deep snow, but he finally made his way to the snowmobile. He sat her down on the seat. “Where the hell is your machine?”

  Keelee lifted her arm and pointed towards a snow bank almost directly behind the collapsed root cellar. “I left it there. Probably under or behind that drift.”

  “Alright, we’ll come back for it.” He dashed back to the pit, grabbed his pack and coiled the rope on his walk back.

  Before he mounted the machine, he tied her scarf around her neck and pulled the strings on her hood tighter. He tied it so snuggly she probably couldn’t see out of the space left. He’d rather not have to transport her in the cold, but the sooner he got her to the line cabin the better. The wind howled relentlessly, cutting through their cold weather gear. Shelter from the raging blizzard demanded urgency.

  “Come on, sweetheart. There’s a line shack a couple miles to the west that has our name on it.” He started the engine. If she responded, the comment was lost on the wind along with the growl of the motor.

  Chapter Eleven

  Oh God, what a screwed-up turn of events. Adam was taking her back to the line shack. Great. The cold should have numbed her aches and pains, but instead the pain crystallized like ice around her muscles, magnifying her misery. Keelee sucked in a wincing cry when the snowmobile lurched forward. She sat behind his massive back and loosely gripped his coat, doing everything within her power to stay as far away from him as she could. Lord, she wanted to attach to his back like a tick, but no way was she going to play that scene again. When it came to Adam, the more distance the better. The tenuous grip she had on her emotions today already threatened to snap.

  Pain coursed through her body. Each lurch of the damn machine jarred her to the point of tears. She closed her eyes. Adam. God, how did he end up here? Her head thrummed from a million hammers pounding against her skull. That was probably why she couldn’t figure out why he was here and not Clint.

  The loop played in her mind. Why was he here? What possible reason would he have to come out in the middle of a raging blizzard? They were just casual acquaintances now. He’d treated her with respect. But they were cool and distant. She was just a person he talked to in passing. Lord knew she should be happy about that, but she wasn’t. She had been so hungry for the man and she had made a fool of herself. He’d been disgusted by her come on. Oh, and don’t forget he gave you another stiff arm toward Clint once he’d decided to get in gear and work toward recovery. Adam didn’t want her. He couldn’t have been clearer. Even a backward country hick could get the message he’d sent her.

  Maybe she should be thanking her good fortunes that he didn’t remember everything like she did. But she couldn’t do that, either. She hated every minute he treated her like a person he’d met at the post office. Polite, distant and reserved.

  Inside her tightly tied hood, tears slid down her cheeks. To hell with it. Her body ached. Her ankle throbbed and her head beat like a drum, sending nauseous waves to her
stomach. But nothing compared to the pain in her heart at the replay of those memories. She sat tensely, trying to balance on the back of the snowmobile. If he noticed the tears, she’d blame the cold wind.

  The snowmobile slowed to a stop. Before she knew what he was doing, he had turned and pulled her closer to his back and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “I didn’t come out in a damned blizzard just to lose you in a snow bank in the middle of the night. Hold on to me before you fall off!”

  Keelee tucked up behind him and laid her head on his back. The contact broke the last fragile thread of self-control she possessed. As he accelerated, she thanked God the engine’s noise and vibration covered her sobs.

  *

  Doc felt Keelee huddled behind him. Now that she was actually holding on to him, he could speed up. What he’d said and done to her years ago was wrong. The assumptions he had heaped upon her were his issues, not hers. Bianca had really done a number on him. The bitch was still fucking up his life. He thought he’d performed a surgical removal of the cancer she’d become a full two years before he’d met Keelee. Obviously, he hadn’t.

  Bianca’s lies and manipulations had devastated him. The callous bitch had concocted a scheme to get herself a husband. She didn’t want just any man—oh hell no. She wanted a man who had money and connections. And he’d been the unfortunate son-of-a-bitch that her sights landed on. He felt Keelee pull away slightly but with both hands needed to navigate the trail to the other side of the mountain he couldn’t pull her back. Did Keelee hate him so much that she didn’t even want to touch him? What the fuck was he thinking? He honestly had no idea if he even had a shot with her anymore.

  What did he think he could do? Waltz back into her life and say, Hey babe, I remember everything! I was an ass, but I’d like another chance. Yeah, right. In what deluded reality would that line ever work? To hope she’d just open up her arms and welcome him back was too much to ask for. No, he was going to have to do some major groveling and he was okay with that. Fuck, if he had to, he’d get down on his knees and beg her to forgive him. There literally wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to have a chance at the life he knew they could have together.