Heart of Frankenstein

by Lexi Post

  Her next agenda item was to contact work. She licked her lips at that quandary. Sas was used to living without money, but that was a hard life change for her. If she could figure out some way to get internet service to the cabin, she could probably work part time, but Timber had told her there were no towers anywhere. Satellite?

  She had time to figure that out. She had plenty of personal time coming to her and she’d take it for her hands. Sas said the doctors might make her wait another month and then she would need time to recover. She raised her hands wrapped in the warm fur mitts without thumbs that Sas had made for her so she could enjoy the fresh air. At least it didn’t hurt anymore to move them as long as she didn’t press against anything or try to move her fingers.

  She sniffed as her nose ran because of the cold. It was a warm day according to Sas, almost ten degrees. Then again, it was probably warmer in the sun where he worked piling up the wood he and Timber had cut.

  The noise of log hitting log stopped, leaving the air quiet except for a diligent woodpecker. His footsteps sounded on the packed snow before he came into view.

  Her heart rate picked up as it did whenever he was around. She’d never been one for the strong silent type, but Sas completely won her over.

  Seriously, the man was hot. His new flannel shirt enhanced how really large he was, from his broad shoulders to his big hands and mega-height. He was almost a giant. She definitely could see why the people in the area called him Sasquatch. And now he was her Sasquatch. She wasn’t sure if she’d tamed the wild beast or if he was the hero of her dreams. Either way she was happier than she’d ever been.

  “You need to go inside now.” Sas stopped at the bottom of the steps, having obviously taken a break just to get her to go into the cabin.

  “But I haven’t been out here more than fifteen minutes.” Her face was cold, but it was so beautiful outside.

  He pointed to the shadow the cabin roof made on the snow, his way of telling time. “You’ve been outside more than an hour. Your body can’t handle the cold yet.”

  Though there was no intonation in his voice, she noticed his furrowed brow. He was worried about her. How could she argue with that? “I’d like to come back outside later.”

  “After our visitor leaves.”

  “Visitor?” She scanned the trees behind him, but didn’t see or hear anything.

  He strode up the steps. “Yes. I believe it’s Sturge.”

  She stood, knowing if she didn’t, he’d just pick her up and bring her inside. The man not only had incredible hearing and vision, but he was stronger than an African elephant and she’d seen first-hand what they could do.

  He opened the door and followed her in. She grinned at his protectiveness. What would he do when her hands were healed, and she didn’t need so much help?

  Once inside, he relieved her of her mitts, dropping them on the couch before taking off the bear-fur coat he’d made her wear.

  “How do you know Sturge is coming?”

  He pulled the cap from her head and hung it up with the coat. “The dogs.”

  She could ask how he knew there were dogs, but it didn’t matter. Sas was better at this wilderness thing than she was. If he said Sturge was on his way then he was. “Sturge is the man who has a wife and new baby, right?”

  “Yes.” Sas moved into the kitchen area and began pulling things out of cabinets.

  “I wish there was something I could do to help.” She felt useless without her hands.

  He turned to face her, although he didn’t meet her gaze. They’d have to work on that. “You can. You can talk when he gets here.”

  There was something in Sas’ tone that told her all this company was wearing on him. “I’ll be happy to do that for you. I’m pretty good at talking.”

  She expected to get a smile from him over that, but he simply nodded and returned to putting lunch together. She’d noticed he never smiled. That would be another thing they would need to work on.

  No time like the present. She walked over to where he worked and leaned against the counter. “Can you smile?”

  There was the slightest pause as he cut up the leftover meat from their dinner the night before. “No.”

  “No? Why not? Did you have surgery on your face that keeps you from smiling?” She wasn’t being sarcastic. She’d not only seen the scar around his right eye, but discovered the scar across his forehead one night when they made love. If the lantern hadn’t been in just the right position, she would have missed it.

  It was possible he physically couldn’t smile. Then again, he did have a beard and since it was neatly trimmed and not long, it was unlikely he had a scar beneath it as the hair wouldn’t grow where a scar was. At least she didn’t think so, but she never knew with him.

  He finally turned and looked at her. His lips moved as he smiled wide, showing all his white teeth. He looked liked a psychotic serial killer and a shiver raced up her spine. It took all she had not to turn away, including remembering what a kind soul he was. “Oh. I think I understand why you don’t smile, but we can work on that.” She tried to sound upbeat, though she was still shaken by how completely different he looked.

  He made a short low sound in the back of his throat before picking up the pan and putting it on the stove.

  Her heart still raced and she moved away, disturbed more by his smile than she wanted to admit. So, he had a scary smile. He couldn’t be perfect. She certainly wasn’t.

  She walked to the front window by his supplies. She’d learned to open the door with her elbow so she could play hostess, even if she couldn’t cook. Keeping her gaze on the tree line, she waited. She’d just started to doubt Sas when the faint sound of a barking dog seeped through the window.

  The sound didn’t continue, but she’d definitely heard it. Then to the right, there was movement between the tree branches and within a few seconds she made out the dogs and a sled. “He’s here.”

  She watched as six dogs came into view and then a man, all bundled up, at the rear. She clearly heard him yell “whoa,” before the animals came to a stop in front of the porch. “What beautiful dogs!” She had her nose almost pressing against the window as Sturge pulled bowls from the basket at the back and walked to the side of the cabin. He’d obviously been there before.

  Some of the huskies stood wagging their tails while a few sat, all of them watching their owner. The sound of Sas walking to the table and setting down a plate pulled her attention back to him. “Sturge is an odd sounding name. I’m guessing it has a story behind it?”

  “Yes.” Sas returned to the kitchen.

  She smirked. “And what’s the story?”

  He came back with the tin cup and a mason jar. “I suggest you ask him.”

  Of course. She hoped Sturge was as entertaining as Timber. She turned back to the window in time to see him petting a dog here and rubbing an ear there. They all had bowls of water. It must take a lot of time to care for them all.

  From studying him, she’d say he was maybe thirty-three. Definitely older than her but younger than Sas, who still hadn’t revealed his age. Sturge had a full bushy beard and she could just see a little of his hair underneath the ski cap on his head. He wore sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes but he had a large wide nose.

  Finally, he headed for the porch.

  She stepped over to the latch and lifted it with her elbow before he could knock. “Hello, Sturge.”

  The man’s light gray eyes widened as he held his hand out. “And you must be Angel.”

  She held both her wrapped hands up in front of her. “Sorry, I can’t shake your hand, but it’s nice to meet you.”

  He dropped his arm. “My fault. Timber told me of your frostbite. Just habit.”

  “Of course. Come in. Sas almost has lunch ready.”

  “It’s ready.” Sas’ voice behind her made her smile.

  She stepped out of Sturge’s way, so he could enter then closed the door with her hip as he shrugged off his parka. M
aneuvering the latch back into place took her a bit longer, but she got it done.

  “Appears I came right on time, Squatch, eh?” Sturge straddled the barrel as Sas served hot fish and potatoes onto the cookie sheet he used for a second plate.

  She nodded toward Sas as she took her seat in the chair. “He heard you coming.”

  Sturge nodded. “I’m not surprised. The man’s more than half Sasquatch.”

  “Is that why you called him Squatch? Timber said people call him Sas.”

  The man shrugged. “It’s a Canadian thing. We call any long-haired, wild-looking man Squatch.”

  She frowned. Sas had a well-trimmed beard and his hair was cut at the nape of his neck, though not exactly even. “But he doesn’t fit that description at all.”

  “You should have seen him the first time I did when he walked into Savik. We thought for sure we would all be rich because we’d finally had proof of a real Sasquatch.”

  Sas grimaced. “Sorry to have disappointed you.”

  As Sturge laughed, Sas filled her plate with twice as much as she could eat since they ate from the same plate now. She had insisted on him eating with her and not after her. While he put the pan in the sink, she took the opportunity to do what she did best, talk. “I hear congratulations are in order. How old is your little boy?”

  Sturge grinned wider than a Cheshire cat. “Jamison is two months now. Just wish he would sleep through the night. Having partial sleep makes for a long day, especially just before winter.”

  Sas piled the fork full of food.

  She quickly asked another question before her first bite. “How is your wife feeling? Ginny, right?” She kept her mouth open, more than willing to start eating. The fresh air had made her hungry.

  “She’s doing better now. She was a little spoiled by everyone waiting on her hand and foot down at the hospital, but she’s readjusted to being back home now and loving that she’ll have the baby to keep her busy once winter hits full force.”

  Angela swallowed. “I bet the snow keeps everyone house-bound this far north.”

  Sturge shook his head. “Not the snow. The cold.” He looked at Sas who just filled her mouth with luscious tasting fish. “This is great. What is it?”

  “Lake trout from Redding Lake.”

  “Wow, no wonder it’s so good. I’ve had no luck catching anything over there. You’ll have to tell me your secret.”

  Sas didn’t say anything, which didn’t surprise her. He simply took a bite of their food.

  She took the opportunity to address Sturge. “So why does everyone call you Sturge? Timber said there’s a story behind every Alaskan bush name.”

  The man nodded as he swallowed. “There is. You just have to figure out how to get the story out of them.”

  “Oh, come on. You have to tell me. Please.” Sas held a forkful of food in front of her and she opened her mouth, but never took her eyes from Sturge.

  He glanced at Sas, a smirk on his lips. “Should I? It would be a shame if everyone was laughing at me except her.”

  Sas shrugged as he took a mouthful, and she quickly swallowed her food. “Oh, I promise not to laugh.”

  Sturge chuckled. “Don’t do that or you’ll take all the fun out of it.”

  Now she just had to hear his story, so she patiently waited, taking the last bite of food Sas fed her and not saying a word. It wasn’t easy.

  Sturge finally finished his lunch and sat back. “I didn’t have the name when we moved here from British Columbia, but then Ginny had to go and tell Timber and well, once Timber knows about a thing then everyone knows, eh?”

  Sas nodded in agreement as he picked up the empty plates and brought them to the kitchen.

  She got a little sidetracked watching him walk, remembering how he did the same thing last night only he had no shirt on. She just loved the movement of the muscles in his back.

  “Ginny and I were out fishing. Out there on the Columbia River. I was having a beauty of a day, hauling in trout left and right. Then I hook one that doesn’t want to come in. I’m reeling and reeling and this fish actually pulls our boat over twenty meters, anchor and all.”

  She grinned. She’d bet that lengths grew with every telling. “What happened? Did it get away?” She winked.

  Sturge looked up at the ceiling. “If only it did.” He looked at her again, obviously getting into his story. “I pulled and yanked and let the line out and pulled and yanked until I thought my arms would fall off.”

  “I’m glad to see they didn’t.” She barely kept her chuckle in.

  He gave her a fake scowl. “Oh, you think it’s funny that I struggled with a fish, eh? Let me tell you, you wouldn’t have been able to reel this baby in.”

  “I bet Sas could have.” She looked fondly at her mountain man, who leaned against the pole that held the table up.

  Sturge rolled his eyes. “Then we’d have no story to tell. Squatch would have hauled that sucker in, cut it up and eaten it for lunch.”

  She chuckled. “I’m sure he would have shared. So, if you were struggling so much, did someone help you with it?”

  “My wife was the only person with me and she had the net, but I had a feeling the fish wasn’t going to fit in our net…and I was right in the end.”

  He had her full attention now. How big could a lake trout get?

  “So, I’m straining, standing in our little boat, reeling that fish in inch by inch. Ginny looks over the side and tells me she can’t see anything yet, but she has that net ready. So I lean back, pulling it with all my weight when suddenly the tension disappears and I find myself flipping backwards over the side of my boat and into the frigid waters of the river.”

  She couldn’t hold in her laugh at the image in her mind of Sturge going over the side. “Sounds to me like the fish did get away.”

  He shook his head, a gleam in his eye. Then he leaned forward. “Nope. That damn fish jumped out of the water and right into our boat.”

  This time she didn’t even try not to laugh. “Oh my. That must have been a huge trout. Did you have it for dinner for days?”

  Sturge shook his head. “We ate it for months.”

  She opened her mouth and stared at him. He had to be exaggerating. “Months? What did you do, eat a forkful a day? No trout is that big.”

  Sturge’s smile grew wide. “Who said it was a trout?”

  “What was it?”

  “It was a White Sturgeon! I’ve been called Sturge ever since that story got out.” He laughed heartily.

  He had her so enthralled with the story, she’d forgotten it was to explain his name. “I think that’s an excellent tale.”

  Sas squeezed her shoulder, and she looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at her, but just having him touch her, like he wanted Sturge to know they were together, made her feel claimed. She never thought she’d enjoy that particular feeling, but the way Sas did it was so subtle, she loved it.

  Sturge looked up at Sas. “I best get headed back, eh?”

  “Already?” She really did like having someone around once in a while who talked a little more.

  “Yeah, I need to get back in time for dinner, and it’s half a day’s sled ride. Besides, Ginny will want a full report on you.” He winked as he stood.

  Sas dropped his hand as she rose from the chair. “Please tell her I said hello and hope to meet her eventually.”

  “I’ll do that.” Sturge walked to the hook by the door and pulled on his parka.

  Sas stepped around her. “If you need any help this winter, tell me.”

  “Thanks, Squatch.” Sturge slapped Sas on the arm before pulling the door open. “You two stay safe.”

  She leaned around the corner of the door. “Bye.”

  Sas nudged her back inside and followed Sturge out. She started to put her hands on her hips, but stopped just in time. It was a little irritating that he didn’t want her outside all bundled up for more than an hour, but he could breeze out there with no coat.

 
Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself. He was never cold, and it was she who had suffered hypothermia. Maybe it was like heat exhaustion, once it happened, it was more likely to occur again with less exposure. She’d have to ask.

  She stepped to the window and watched as Sas gave the closest dog an unconscious pat. The dog licked his hand to get his attention. He finally gave it a scratch behind its ear before stepping away and letting Sturge get his sled turned around.

  After watching Sturge disappear through the trees, Sas came back inside. He walked right to her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her breathless.

  When he finished, she sucked in air. “Whoa, that made my toes tingle.”

  He nodded as if that was his plan. “I need to finish stacking the wood, but then I’ll be back in.”

  In other words, then he’d be back in for some lovemaking. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and honestly, she was flattered, not to mention excited at the prospect. Sas was an amazing lover.

  “Do you have much left to do?” Did that sound too anxious? Because she was.

  “Maybe an hour.”

  She could wait that long. “Okay, finish up.”

  He gave her another kiss, but this time it was one of those gentle ones that filled her heart. He was such a huge man yet could be so tender, her eyes watered.

  He strode outside and around the corner before she remembered he said it would be okay to go outside after lunch. Shoot. If she still wanted to, she’d have to get herself bundled up without hurting her hands. She’d come such a long way, she didn’t want to hurt them now.

  With a new goal in mind, she set about getting dressed for outside. Luckily, she still had her boots on from earlier, so she pulled the chair over to the hooks by wrapping her arm around the back. She stood on it and easily slipped one arm through a sleeve of Sas’ bear-fur. He insisted she wear it because it covered her legs as well.

  Now came the hard part, slipping her other arm into the other sleeve while pushing the heavy coat against the wall and up. Her first attempt didn’t work, so the second time she stood on her toes as she pushed her back with the fur against the wall and up. Looking behind her, she felt a moment of triumph that the fur cleared the hook. Now, she had to pull away fast.