Heartburn

by M. C. Cerny

  Sounds to the right of me echoed, down into the woods pulling me to look past the large rocks that ended up here after the last geological ice age. The sound could have been anything, the wind, an animal. I found no evidence of the girl named Amelia so far. The area was riddled with mountain lakes and ponds from the last glacial period making deep divots and pockets perfect for scared and soaked college girls out past their curfew.

  For all I knew, she could have made it back and got a ride out of the park, leaving her stupid friends to worry and me with a case of seriously waterlogged hiking boots. Logic told me I was probably dealing with a brat who had no concept of responsibility and common courtesy.

  I called her name again, “Amelia!”

  The last thing I wanted was to be traipsing about the woods for some unappreciative girl. The whole situation made me rethink gifting her friends with a few citations for illegal camping and drug use. I was pretty sure I had a ticket book in my jeep glove box that was eager to be filled.

  Movement downwind of me caught my eye and I turned, taking heavy steps through slippery foliage that clung to my shoes like tar. Lightening from overhead illuminated the dark for a split second and a human silhouette against the granite rock face had me running over logs to reach what I thought could be her.

  “Amelia?”

  “H-here. I’m h-here.” She looked more like a drowned rat with her hair in tangles, makeup streaking down her face than a human female. She took a step toward me and collapsed in my arms, pulling me to my knees with her dead weight. Her whole body shook with a convulsion and the skin of her hands touching mine felt ice cold. I needed to check her vital signs and let Jeff know he could call off the cavalry.

  Crashing into me, her slight weight felt like a fifty pound sack hitting me in all the wrong places. I helped her up. Another flash of lightening showed me her face. Frightened, wet, but luckily unhurt from what I could tell.

  I cupped her cheeks tilting her face up to reassure her. “Hey, I got you.” Looking into my face, bedraggled and shivering, she was surprisingly lovely. Dark eyes of indiscernible color in her heart-shaped face had me lingering over her looks until another shiver twitched her whole body. I had to get her out of here.

  “T-thank you.” Her chin dipped down and her eyes darted away.

  “Can you walk?” I asked her, our voices muddied by the rain and thunder.

  “W-what?”

  “Are you hurt? Can you walk?” I yelled again to get her attention.

  “I think so.” Nodding, I helped pick her up. Standing, I handed her a sweatshirt and a rain poncho from my backpack. She didn’t move, so I grabbed it back from her and put both over her head, pulling her arms out and dressing her like a parent would a child.

  “T-thank you.” Shudders racked her body and I nodded, knowing we needed to make good time getting out of the rain. There would be time to ask her how she got here and what she was thinking to leave her campsite ill-prepared. Guiding her, we hiked up the hill precariously, with our feet slipping on leaves, sticks, and rocks as we made our way back up to the trail.

  “This way.” I steered her toward an old hunter’s cabin I knew was about a half mile further down. Anything had to be better than being exposed to the cold wet rain. The cabin wasn’t much having been abandoned some forty years earlier. The park mostly kept it standing because it would have been next to impossible getting a backhoe out here on the carriage roads to knock it down. It was a lot closer than my jeep, which was now a solid mile or more back at the trailhead. As experienced as I was even I felt disorientated here in the dark. Shelter was my primary concern, the rest would come later.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. A frown on her face was her way of letting me know she didn’t trust me yet. Poor girl was hopelessly lost if she thought walking in the direction of the cliffs or the lake nearby was the way to go. The last thing I wanted was her running off and tripping over the mountain.

  “Yeah. I’m Whit, by the way. I work for the park service and your friends came to the Ranger Station to report you missing.” I showed her my ranger badge in case she thought I was lying. She grunted inelegantly and the first sign of color pinked her cheeks.

  So that’s the way of things.

  “I wish this day never happened.” Her hand ran through her messy hair making me chuckle.

  “You and me both.” I mumbled. “Sure you’re okay?” I checked in with her again. All I got was a nod so I tried to be as reassuring as possible. “Well, we’ll be out of the elements soon enough, Amelia, and then I’ll get you back to your friends.” I still debated slapping them all with citations.

  “Lia. You can call me Lia.” Holding my arms out, I helped her step over another log jumping down into my arms. Awkward her body rubbed down along mine, hands braced against me, her face brushing mine and our lips so close I nearly tasted her dewy breath. This was dangerous territory I traversed feeling attracted to her.

  I cleared my throat after a moment letting her step away. Had it not been raining and balls cold I might have considered seeing where than went, but instead I turned ignoring her whimper and headed toward the cabin. We walked in silence for what felt like another twenty minutes in the dark. The trail was littered with fallen branches from the wind and leaves that covered the natural trail markings making the trek harder. My flashlight dimmed flickering not giving us much to go on. I smacked it against my hand and ended up turning it off.

  “Is it supposed to do that?” she asked.

  I shrugged and put the flashlight in my pack moving forward by instinct to the cabin I knew was here practically from muscle memory.

  We passed a tree with a marker stapled into it denoting the trail. My fingers scraped the bark rubbing the metal marker. I turned down the trail leading her.

  “Not much farther now.”

  “Thank goodness,” she muttered, and I could see the cabin ahead of us. Reaching the door, I let her go and used my keys to unlock it. I flicked the switch and found that the electricity was out. God only knew the last time it was actually functional given the layer of dust and grime covering much of everything. I doubted anyone had been here in the last decade more than to seek shelter from the rain as we were.

  Glancing over my shoulder, she was pathetic looking and had her arms tightly wrapped around her middle. “No lights.” I said.

  She shrugged, so I worked quickly to get us situated inside.

  “Awesome.” She grumbled with an attitude that reignited my irritation for having to come out here in the first place.

  “Beggars can’t be choosy.” Snapping at her I pushed the heavy wood door. It creaked wide open. “We’re inside. That’s all that matters.”

  “No complaints, honestly I’m happy to be out of that cold crap.” She was at least acting positive and not pouting like a spoiled brat. I needed to start a fire to heat things up in here so neither of us got sick sitting in our wet clothes.

  “Right then. See if you can find some dry blankets in the closet.” I pointed to a door in the corner and pulled out my cell, seeing that I had no service at the moment. It wasn’t the end of the world, but I wouldn’t be able to call in to headquarters that I’d found Lia. I crossed my fingers Jeff didn’t call in the authorities since we were fine and it was a waste of resources. “You check your phone?” I asked.

  She shook her head no. “I didn’t bring it.” Nodding at her, I looked around the spartan cabin and figured we could get through the night. We were lucky there was no major storm system ripping through besides the downpour. “I’ll get a fire going.”

  “Isn’t anyone coming?”

  I turned, hands on my hips replying, “Coming to do what?”

  “T-to rescue us?” That right there insulted me. I’d just hiked a mile in and out of the woods soaking wet and she didn’t realize I was the cavalry come to save her sweet ass. I revoked my earlier assessment. She was a damn brat.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m the rescue committee of one. We’ll have to hi
ke back to the jeep in the morning once there’s daylight. Just us two for now.” She looked crestfallen, but there was nothing I could do about that except get this place heated up as quickly as possible and ignore the heat I felt for her which was an equal mix of desire and pissed off.

  5

  Lia

  “I found some candles and blankets.” My arms held two woolen blankets that smelled of mothballs and summer camp making my eyes water and itch. The candles looked like two nubs that would barely last us an hour let alone the night but as he pointed out earlier, beggars couldn’t be choosy. I prayed the blankets weren’t riddled with too many holes or critters. My skin practically crawled thinking about the unwashed linens while my rescuer didn’t seem phased in the least.

  “Excellent.” Whit ignored me, his attention focused on the fireplace, setting up the logs in some tripod arrangement that I hoped generated instant warmth. He acted like I bruised his male ego assuming there was someone else coming for us. He hadn’t exactly been a warm welcoming committee and naturally I assumed incorrectly. Insert foot and welcome mouth was the story of my life. I hummed my favorite score from Phantom of The Opera feeling the mood was fitting to the predicament I found myself.

  Nerves coursed through me that could be either cold or actual anxiety at being alone with an attractive guy near my age and stranded miles from civilization. Okay, Whit-whatever-his-last-name-was looked hot. Super-hot. He wasn’t a silver fox, too young for that, but he definitely had some years on me. A feeling of shame washed over me because if I was having thoughts about my sexy park ranger, I obviously didn’t have much in the way of feelings for Ryder West-nearly-football-pro-salon-hair-college-hottie. I realized these were shallow first world problems my philosophy professor would have a field day with, but I still couldn’t knock the thoughts about Whit’s uniform and how hot dark green cargo pants had suddenly become molded around his ass and lean hips.

  Feeling about as helpful as tits on a bull, I fidgeted to put the mothball smelling blankets down on a wooden bench. I placed the candles on the matching wood picnic style table and looked around the cabin. Thick beams of wood and space utilized to its fullest with everything having multiple utilitarian purposes. My fashionista mother would say the place was like a drug store chocolate sampler with a little bit of everything, except we were left with the unwanted nutty buttercreams you had to choke down.

  “Come sit down, the fire will get going in a minute.” Whit encouraged me to join him, patting the floor absently as he used a flint to spark the dry brush he found next to the fireplace unused. Flame caught air and substance, flickering like a fledgling fire. Leaning over, he blew on it slowly and I couldn’t help but notice the way his lips pursed, forcing air out in a controlled manner, stoking the fire. His mouth fascinated me to no end and I focused on keeping my own heart from racing out of my chest at the sudden thumping it was doing watching him build the fire. Perhaps in my compromised state of mind his caveman ways were sparking my libido, albeit under duress.

  Try as I might, my focus shifted instead to his butt that filled out his park issued pants nice and firm while the cargo pockets made me curiously wonder what secrets he had hiding in each. It was like those Christmas advent calendars. I wanted to open each pocket, rush through the days, and see what was inside.

  On his knees, the fabric pulled tight and belted at his hips, accentuating each masculine curve and dip. They were stupid thoughts that reminded me of my immaturity. I was here with a complete stranger lost in the woods by my own doing and already thinking about how I could hook up with him for just one night. I didn’t need a fire to keep me warm, I needed to run back outside and douse these stupid feelings with a reality check.

  Whit’s body stirred something carnal within me. I was so going to Hell for this. My cheeks flushed with heat that he might catch me looking him over like a tasty, juicy steak. I awkwardly sat down on the spot he patted, my body falling to the floor in an ungraceful heap of horniness I didn’t expect.

  The loud sound of my fall had Whit looking over at me, his brows drawn together before he spoke. “Are you okay?”

  Embarrassment flooded me and I nodded awkwardly. “Yeah, peachy.” I begged the floor to please open up and swallow me, but no luck there either.

  Whit looked at me funny shaking his head and resumed stoking the fire. “It’ll warm up soon, promise. Don’t need you catching a cold out here.”

  A shiver stole my voice. “I s-should thank you for coming out here to save me.” Lamely I didn’t know what else to say.

  “You should, but I won’t hold it against you.” Whit drawled the last bit out and continued looking me over, his indigo eyes filled with mirth darting back and forth. He was probably laughing at me.

  “So is this part of your job?” I blurted out.

  He smiled at my question, kindness crinkling at the corner of his eyes. He was definitely laughing at me now.

  Whit looked up at me from under thick lashes. “Job?”

  God those beautiful lashes women would kill for. I prayed he wasn’t another Ryder West in disguise.

  “Rescuing stupid girls who go off on hikes ill-prepared for bad weather?” I knew he saw right through me. I was never good at small talk.

  “Oh.” He’s quiet, likely contemplating how honest of an answer he should give me and if I might dissolve into tears. There was no chance of that happening. I was far too logical for hysterics now that I was slowly warming up and in no danger of dying outside alone to be ravaged by wolves and hawks. “Well… I suppose search and rescue comes with the territory. I guess there is more to your story than you being a stupid girl?” He resumed stoking the fire.

  Rolling my eyes earned me a genuine laugh from Whit and I was struck by his unusual name. Ignoring his question, I asked one of my own. “What’s your full name?”

  “Deflecting. Nice.” He leaned back on his knees, arms crossed over his chest, which I noticed was pretty brawny underneath his jacket. He was a manbun-less version of Jason Momoa with some GQ arching brows that made me want to stare at him all night long.

  “It’s Whittaker Jones. I’m named after my grandfather, crusty old bastard, but a good guy growing up. He used to take me fishing and hunting in these woods as a kid.” He was right again. Smart and good-looking, Whittaker was definitely trouble for me. “You?” he asked.

  “Named after a great-aunt who never married and died with twenty cats in her house.”

  “Twenty?” He chuckled like it sounded impossible. I knew it was totally possible right up until the housing authority fined you for hoarding animals.

  “It sounds much worse than it actually turned out. She was sweet and despite there being twenty cats roaming her apartment with free rein she cared for them. She even brought them to work at the kitschy book store she owned.”

  “Ah,” he nodded. “Where is home?”

  “Brooklyn, near Williamsburg and the bridge.” He rocked back on his heels and flutters of emotion erupted under the guise of his perfect smile.

  “You miss her.” Slowly he reached up and brushed a hunk of my wet hair back over my shoulder, exposing my face to him, and the light of the fire burning brightly thawed my core.

  “Yeah. I ended up working there as a teen after school to give her breaks. She always baked these lemon iced cookies for me to sneak back home. I loved her.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t turn down cookies if you felt inclined to bake me some once we get out of here.” He chuffed.

  “Just cookies?” I inquired.

  “As a thank you gesture, of course.” Winking at me, I was lost. How did I end up getting myself from the pan directly to the fire? Was this karma? Pure chance? A statistical outlier? My head ramped up all the possibilities as his eyebrow quirked waiting for my response and I blinked back to the here and now.

  “Of course.” Reel me in because I was done. Blushing singed my cheeks and I would have dug up Aunt Amelia and shook her alive to get her recipe if it meant Whit would lo
ok at me like that again.

  “How about chocolate chip? You get me out of here and I’ll bake you a double batch.” I had no idea how to operate the oven in my apartment, but I would find a bakery if it meant seeing him after this.

  “Seems like a good deal. So tell me again what prompted you to walk off the trail with no real jacket or a phone?”

  “Not giving up on that, are we?” I snorted handing him more kindling for the fire.

  “Nope. You’ve made me curious why you’d risk life and limb hiking in the dark from a perfectly good campsite rife with beer, boys, and pot.” He smirked at me.

  “Fine.” Exasperated, I started to shiver again, partly from sitting so close to him and out of damp chills from my clothes. “It was about a stupid guy, but it doesn’t matter because I’m not interested in him anymore. Pretty sure my roommate, the blonde one is banging him now.”

  Whit nodded seemingly fine with my answer.

  “Good, because we should probably take our clothes off now.”

  “What?” I screeched and Whit looked at me wide-eyed as mine focused on him shell-shocked. So much for dinner first and middle names next. I knew adults, like real adults in the next age bracket above me were a bit more casual with sex according to Cosmo where I got all my relevant sex facts, but even this was unprecedented.

  “Oh shit, I didn’t mean it like that.” Holding his hands up defensively he looked kind of cute while I thought about sucker punching him in the mouth. I might have my moments, but I was a city girl and I didn’t take crap from anyone. My dad made sure his daughters took a year of karate with all our other extracurricular activities. I didn’t mind being the forward one, or seen as fickle of heart, but I drew the line at someone taking advantage of me.

  “Sure you didn’t,” I grumbled.

  He held his hand up wincing. The fire flickered and he had the good manners for his cheeks to pink high in the corners.

  “Honestly, no. I’m not that kind of opportunist. With the fire going, we should probably get these wet clothes off and the dry blankets on so our stuff can dry overnight. I can’t have you getting sick on my watch.”