by Rachel Lee
It was, although she couldn’t have said whether the room was really chilling, or if the chill came from within her.
Just then, under the burden of heavy snow, a tree limb broke with the deafening crack of a gunshot.
In an instant she saw Jon’s transformation into a warrior. He whirled in the direction of the sound, reaching for a weapon he didn’t have.
She saw then the hunter—and the prey—he had become. She saw the metamorphosis in the blink of an eye. It should have scared her, but somehow it increased her trust in him.
She waited, watching him unknot one muscle at a time. “Tree limb,” he said.
“Yes.”
Nodding, he returned to the couch and reached for his cider. “Sorry.”
“No need.” And for some reason, now she felt as if she could talk. “My parents owned a ranch north of town,” she said.
“I kind of remember. Vaguely.”
“Yeah. Dad raised cattle mostly. I used to love to ride the horses. In fact, like most girls, I was a horse nut.”
He didn’t say anything, just gave her the space she needed to talk.
“Anyway, I was alone at the house one day. Mom and Dad had gone into town to get some groceries, and being fifteen, I decided I’d rather stay home and listen to my music. I was so above those ordinary things. If it didn’t involve a gang of my friends, I didn’t want to go.”
“I remember feeling that way.”
She nodded, compressing her lips tightly. “Someone knocked at the door. Around here, you don’t worry about things like that. I thought it was somebody looking for work, or one of the hands needing something. Never entered my head it could be anything else.”
She sensed him shift toward her, but the move was subtle, so she didn’t feel as if she had to shift away. “Anyway, it was a creep. I fought him, but he still got me banged up so that I couldn’t see straight, and the next thing I clearly remember was being tied up and gagged in the bed of his pickup truck, hidden under a canvas tarp that smelled…awful. Like something had died in it.”
That had terrified her, she realized now. More than being kidnapped, that horrible scent of death had seemed to set a seal on her fate.
His hand settled on her shoulder reassuringly. She didn’t shrug it away. For some reason she needed it.
“I figured I was dead,” she continued, her voice breaking. “I don’t know how long we drove, but the ride got bumpier and bumpier. All I could think of was what he was going to do to me and the shallow grave I was probably going to wind up in. I thought about my parents, and how terrified and upset they were going to be, and I got pissed because they’d never know what happened.”
She felt rather than saw him nod.
“You don’t need all the details,” she said finally. “Eventually the truck stopped. I have no idea where I was, but there was a broken-down cabin. And this freak figured he could turn me into his wife. He said I just needed some breaking, like a wild horse.”
“God.”
A shudder tore through her. Needing to move, she pushed herself off the couch and began to pace. “I don’t talk about this,” she said, her voice cracking. “I don’t think about this anymore.”
“But it still haunts you.”
“Yes. Of course. Some ghosts never go away.”
“How long before they found you?”
She broke stride, then resumed her pacing, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “He had me for nearly three weeks. It was…barbaric. He treated me like an animal he had to tame, and he wasn’t nice about it. One time he hit me so hard he broke my cheekbone. The only thing he didn’t do was rape me.”
“Damn!”
“I was covered with bruises. He wouldn’t feed me or give me water unless I did what he wanted, and I was chained all the time. But then…one day…”
A shudder ripped through her again, and she stopped, facing a wall, looking into the past like a tunnel, seeing what was no longer there.
“One day,” she said again, her voice growing flat, “he went away. To get supplies, I guess. But he’d been feeding me so little that I’d lost a lot of weight. It took me two hours, and I shredded the skin on my ankle, but I got out of the shackle. Then I stole some heavier clothes—God, they stank, but I didn’t care—and some boots, grabbed some food and made a bundle out of a blanket, and I took off.
“God,” he said softly.
She turned slowly, looking at him, hollow-eyed. “I hid out in the woods for six weeks, scared to death he’d track me. I never stopped moving. Then one day I came on a couple of women hikers. Right after that, Nate and Micah found me.” She shrugged. “They got me back to a ranger station. I spent some time in the hospital, and a lot more time in therapy. But the truth is, Jon, I still only feel safe when I’m out in the woods.”
He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Believe me, I understand.”
And for some reason, she believed he did. Slowly the tension began to seep out of her. She looked at Noel, still sleeping happily before the fire, then again at Jon. “I usually avoid men,” she said, not understanding why she felt it necessary to tell him.” Men I don’t know, I mean.”
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”
“And I’ve never told this whole story to anyone but the police, the court and my therapist.”
He nodded. “I’ve told you things I never talk about, too. Maybe we both recognize each other’s gutted soul.”
Slowly she came back to the couch and sat, facing him. “But are we really gutted souls? Do you believe that?”
“Sometimes I think so. Me, at least. Not you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just meant you were seriously harmed.”
“But you,” she persisted. “What about you?”
“I’m a Marine.”
“And?”
“I’m a trained killing machine. I’m not supposed to think about anything except my mission and my buddies.”
“Why?”
“Because compassion would get in the way.”
She nodded, facing the ugliness square on. He gave her credit for that.
“But you feel it anyway, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I do.”
She sighed, and astonished him by reaching out to take his hand. “I’m sorry, Jon. The few, the proud, the brave…You’re all those things. The terrible part is…well, it’s like Nate Tate said to me once. He said, ‘When your country calls, the only answer is Yes, sir.’”
“At least in Afghanistan I feel like I’m doing some good.”
She nodded and squeezed his hand. “You are. Generations of women who get to go to school are going to thank you.”
“I hope so.”
Silence fell between them, but she continued to hold his hand.
Noel stirred, stretching and yawning, then rubbing his face with his paws. He needed only a second to judge the situation, and he wasted no time leaping up onto the sofa. He squirmed into the space between them, shoving with his nose until he was satisfied with the arrangement, then settled in.
Outside, the storm howled with renewed vigor, strong enough to make the cabin creak. The sound of ice hitting the windowpanes became a nearly constant rattle.
“I’m glad I don’t have to be out in this,” Melinda said.
“I’m sure even the wild animals would agree with you. It’s wicked.”
“If it keeps up, I may have to turn on the generator. The stove might not be enough to keep the whole cabin warm.”
“We could always just stay in this room. It’s warm enough here.”
“I guess it is.” But she hadn’t tried to sleep in a room with a man since…back then. And she wasn’t sure she could do it. But it was still early, and things could change, so she forced the concern from her mind.
“I haven’t had breakfast yet,” she said, needing to move about and do something. “Are you hungry?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. Can I help?”
“I’ll let you know.”
All she needed to make breakfast was a skillet and an old-fashioned toaster that held slices of bread at an angle over the hot stove top. Easier, she sometimes thought, than cooking on a regular stove.
Bacon was soon sizzling in the fry pan, and the aroma quickly roused Noel from his somnolence. He perked up, sniffing at the air.
Jon spoke. “You don’t even have to teach him about people food.”
“He already knows,” she agreed.
“Will you give him some?”
She shook her head, smiling. “I’m not sure it would be good for him. Besides, do I really want to create a monster?”
“Most people eventually give in.” He laughed. “How tough are you?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
Noel suffered the indignity of being placed on the floor while they ate. He seemed to accept it as proper, though, and did nothing but rest his head between his paws and look up at them with soulful eyes.
Afterward, Jon followed her to the kitchen and helped with the dishes.
“You have no electricity without running your generator,” he remarked. “So how do you get water?”
“The park has a small water treatment plant. We get it from the reservoir up the mountain, and the pumps are run by propane. It was the only economical way to bring clean water to the campgrounds.”
“Makes sense. I was just curious.”
“It was a good question.” She smiled. “Most people don’t even think to ask.”
“So there’s no electricity anywhere in the park?”
“Oh sure, there’s an RV campground with hookups on the other side. This area is just rustic is all.”
“Something for everyone.”
“That’s the idea. Either that or they just wanted to limit costs.”
He laughed, and she realized she enjoyed making him laugh. She liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, loved the deep-from-the-belly sound of it. In fact, she thought as she gave him a sidelong glance, there was very little, if anything, that she didn’t find attractive about him.
Even more oddly, instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable now that she’d told him what had happened to her, she felt even more comfortable with him.
But there was another feeling, something beyond comfort. It put butterflies in her stomach and gave her a strange ache in places she normally avoided thinking about. For the first time since her abduction, she actually wondered if it would feel good to have a man’s hands on her.
A shudder should have passed through her at the thought, but it didn’t. Was it possible she was having the feelings of a normal woman for the first time in forever?
Before she could drag her gaze from him, he caught her eye. For a heart-stopping moment she thought she saw a flicker of heat there, a response to what she was feeling.
But it was impossible for him to read her mind, and surely her face revealed nothing. The edge of fear began to slice into her, but just in time he looked away, as if nothing had happened.
She was safe with him, she reminded herself. He had certainly proved that he intended her no harm. If anything, she suddenly realized with another burst of butterflies, she suspected that he was wondering if he was safe with her.
The thought gave her pause, and she stood motionless for a while, looking out at the whirling snow that had turned the trees into distant gray shadows. Could he be as uneasy about her as she was about him? Perhaps more so?
It didn’t seem possible. And yet she couldn’t escape the feeling.
The radio crackled then, and Larry’s voice came across the airwaves, broken but audible.
“You there, Mel? Over.”
Ignoring Jon, she hurried to the front room and reached for the microphone. “Hi, Larry, I’m here.”
“I thought you’d want to know, this storm is still building. The word I’m getting is that we can expect to be pretty much snowed in for the next two days, if not a bit longer. Are you okay?”
“I’ve got everything I need, Larry.”
“Same here. So we’ll just ride it out, Mel.” His laugh crackled over the speaker. “The only thing I’m worried about is all the avalanche danger we’re going to have, and all the idiots who are going to want to get out on that fresh snow anyway.”
“Yeah, but that’s a few days away. I’ve already marked off a few areas.”
“Same here. Maybe we’ll have to close the park until we can take care of it.”
“I was thinking about that. Might be wise, considering all the people who like to get off the trails.”
“I’ll see if I can clear it. Give me a call if you need anything, kiddo.”
“Thanks, Larry. Out.”
Jon was sitting on the couch again, Noel curled on his lap. “Your boss?”
“Chief ranger,” she said, and nodded. “Just the two of us full-time. Usually it’s enough.”
“So people really are stupid enough to go off-trail on fresh snow?”
“Of course.” She lifted a brow. “You ought to know how stupid people can be. And over the past few years, getting off the trails has been becoming more and more popular. It’s beautiful out there, so I can understand the desire. Pristine. But the danger isn’t worth it. Especially now, when we’re getting fresh snow on top of a layer that probably crusted under the sun yesterday. The chance of the top layer slipping is huge.”
He nodded, absently stroking Noel’s head.
She turned the radio off once again to save the battery, then joined Jon and the dog on the couch. Noel lifted his head, stretched, then inched his way over so that he was squarely between them, as if claiming them both.
Melinda stroked one of his silky ears, watching his eyes grow heavy. There seemed to be a growing heaviness within her, as well. One that was making her more and more aware of the man nearby.
Her defenses dropped far enough that she noticed he smelled good. She hadn’t allowed herself to pay attention to such a thing in years. He smelled good. In a way, that surprised her, since the sour smell of her abductor seemed to have shut down all her awareness of men in any respect except as threats.
God, was she going nuts? Yes, she’d known Jon, sort of, back when they were kids, but he’d been gone a long time and had come back a stranger. A couple of days of knowing him wasn’t enough that she should be feeling like this. The risk was incalculable.
Nervous and unnerved, she jumped up from the couch. “Did I tell you about the bank robber?”
Chapter 8
Much later, the tension had fled the room. They had put up the Christmas tree and, after Melinda went out back and started the generator, spent some time admiring the fiber-optic lights as they changed color.
“It’s almost pretty enough just like that,” Jon remarked.
“I think so, too, but after a few days it starts to look bare. So I got some other stuff. Besides, I’ll have the generator off more than on.”
He nodded agreement, and helped take ornaments from their boxes and hang them by hooks on the limbs.
“I went for rustic stuff,” she said. “I wanted it all to look handmade or old. But sometimes I get a hankering for shiny balls, I have to admit.”
“I think these ornaments are prettier. I ought to send you some things from Afghanistan. I think you’d like them.”
“Handcrafts?”
“Yup.” He smiled. “By and large, if they can’t make it, they don’t have it, so they’ve become amazingly adept at making toys for their children that are just fantastic. Some of the women have found markets outside the country for the things they make. Anything they can trade over the border in Pakistan, they do.”
She paused with an ornament in her hand. “What are they like, the people?”
“Like people everywhere. Although I have to give them credit—they’re cheer
ful in circumstances most of us in this country couldn’t tolerate. I guess it’s all in what you learn to expect as you grow up.”
“It must be.”
He placed a wooden sled on a bough and reached for another ornament. “Entire families sometimes load up mules and carry things over the mountains to sell. Women will spend all winter weaving with dyed wools, then go to cities to sell clothing and blankets. There’s an organization that has been trying to help women build home businesses, then provide a way for them to sell on the international market. It’s making progress, little by little, and where it has, the standard of living is improving.”
“That’s excellent.”
“I think so.”
They stopped to admire the tree when it was finished, then Jon made them some hot chocolate on the woodstove. The wind howled outside, and the snow blew wildly, but inside, all was safe and warm.
Noel needed a walk, and Jon insisted on taking him. Melinda stood at the front window and watched the man and pup walk out into the whipping snow. Noel, as usual, seemed to think the blizzard had been created for his pleasure. Jon just appeared impervious, standing so that his back faced the wind.
He let Noel pounce and prance with sheer delight in life until the pup began to tire. Then Jon tucked him up beneath one strong arm and brought him back inside.
The cold came in with them, a delicious contrast to the warmth indoors. Jon sucked the heat out of the air around him as if he were a black hole, even after he removed his jacket. “It’s damn cold out there,” he said.
He stepped toward the stove, aiming his backside at it, and nudged Noel a little to one side with, “Hey, you have a fur coat.”
The pup cocked his head, then settled a little farther away on the hearthstones, happily licking the remaining snow from his coat.
Melinda went to the other window to look out at the large round thermometer. She had hung it on a tree where it was reasonably well protected from wind and sun. “My God, Jon, it’s thirty-two below out there. Out of the wind. You’d better let me go out next time. I’ve got the gear for this.”
“Or we could just train His Highness here to use a litter box.”