by Ivy Jordan
SEAL DEAREST
By Ivy Jordan
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Ivy Jordan
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Chapter One
Xander
A dark cloud rolled over the cottage, blocking the sun and lowering the temperature to a frigid chill. I finished wrapping the fish I’d caught in butcher’s paper and headed inside. The warm water of the faucet soothed my aching hands. I’d come here for the winters, but I wasn’t quite ready for them. It looked like it was coming sooner than expected.
My phone vibrated across the table with Elijah’s face plastered on the screen. I smiled as I picked it up, already missing my good friend. “Aloha,” I boasted with a half-chuckle.
“Hey, how’s Maine treatin’ ya? You ready to come back yet?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful. You and Taylor need to plan a trip soon,” I suggested.
“I’d love that,” Elijah sighed.
I filled him in on the cottage, the area, and how I’d settled in just fine. He told me all about Bailey, how well she was doing in kindergarten, and how well Taylor was taking to motherhood. It was good to hear his voice, to hear he was doing well. It had only been a couple months since I left Hawaii, but it felt like a lifetime ago.
“Is it cold there?” Elijah asked. I laughed. Cold, that was an understatement.
“It’s nippy,” I joked.
“I don’t like you up there in the mountains all alone,” he complained.
“You know that’s the way I like it,” I pointed out.
I listened to him sigh on the other end of the phone. I knew he didn’t understand my need for seclusion, and I was grateful he didn’t. A lot of the guys came back home with a few new ticks, ones that developed from listening to gunshots in the night, air missiles raiding the dark, and screams of their brothers that had been hit. I had a few ticks myself, ones that Elijah luckily hadn’t developed. Alone was fine with me.
We said our goodbyes, and I hung up the phone. The sun was gone, even though it was early, and tiny specks of snow were beginning to fall from the sky. At least I knew the snow would keep the fall hikers from my cottage, and once the ski lodge opened up down the mountain side, all the locals would flock to it, leaving me alone.
I stepped outside and let the cold flakes of snow fall on my face as I looked up at the dark cloud growing above my cottage. It was going to be a rough one—that was for certain.
My freezer was packed with fish, my cupboards filled with non-perishables, and I had enough bottles of water to last four winters stacked outside my back door. I was ready.
The breeze flew through the trees, leaving a whistle through each branch as I closed up my shed. I slammed the lock down hard and started towards the cottage when a sound echoed through the mountain, a sound that I hadn’t heard before.
I stopped, looked around, and waited, but heard nothing. I shrugged it off, figuring it was a fox, maybe an owl, or some other creature warning the others of the impending storm headed our way.
My hand rested on the front door as the noise carried up the mountain side once again, this time louder, more human-like.
The paths that had been beaten down by hikers were about a half mile from my cottage, but I knew no one would be dumb enough to chance a hike with this weather looming. It had to be a creature.
I almost made it inside when the noise bellowed again, this time clearly a moan, not a growl, a hoot, or squeal, but a moan. I grabbed my gloves and hat from the chair by the door and headed towards the noise. Who in their right fuckin’ mind would be out here in this shit?
“Where are you?” I called out, walking towards the nearest path. The whistle in the branches was all I heard. No moan, no return call. I must’ve been going nuts out here all alone.
I made it to the snow covered path as the moan returned, this time fainter, but closer. I called out again, moving towards the sounds of distress. The wind subsided, leaving an eerie silence over the mountain. “Oooh,” a low groan rolled up the path. I turned the corner to find a woman lying on the ground. Her long red hair was braided into a long ponytail, and blood trickled down her forehead from an injury to her head. I rushed towards her, kneeling down so she could see my face. “What’s hurt?” I asked as her eyes rolled back into her head. Shit!
I slid my hands underneath her, turning her towards me. There was a gash on her head, not a bad one, but it was bleeding pretty fast. I bit onto my right glove to free my hand and used a bandana from my back pocket to add pressure to the wound. She was breathing, and her pulse was strong, but she was out cold. Why was she out here all alone? Why was she out here at all?
The parking lot where hikers parked before making their trek up the mountain side was a good three miles down. I looked up at the sky, debating on whether to attempt to bring her to her car, to civilization, or up the mountain to my cottage that was less than a mile away. Fuck! This was why I left Hawaii: the damn hikers, tourists, and people crowding in on my secluded spot in the woods.
I pushed my glove back on my hand and scooped the young woman into my arms. She was light, thankfully, but her limp body was awkward to carry up the slick path.
Snow was already sticking to the ground, accumulating quickly. The weather report hadn’t mentioned a storm, but it was clearly the start of a big one. I stepped off the path, making my way through the thick brush to my cottage with the limp woman in my arms. She groaned as I missed my step, my foot sliding behind me quickly and bringing me to my knees. It hurt like hell, but I bit down, pushed myself back up, and made the rest of the trip to my front door.
Inside, the heat instantly thawed my cheeks and fingers, causing them to tingle and burn. I placed the woman on the couch and rushed into the kitchen for my first aid kit.
The knot on her head was swelling, but the bleeding had finally slowed. I cleaned the wound, wrapped it in bandages, and sat down on the edge of the couch by her feet. Why was she out here all alone?
She wore a small fanny pack around her waist. I carefully removed it, checked inside for some sort of identification, a phone possibly, but found only a granola bar, a bottle of water, and a knife.
A soft moan rolled from her lips as I got up from the couch. I knelt down beside her, speaking softly as I asked her if she was awake. She let out another moan, this time softer, and then, just breathing.
I looked outside. The snow was coming down fast and furiously, and the skies had turned a strange grey. I knew the weather would be unpredictable when I moved to Maine and chose the mountain side as my home, but this was far more than even I expected.
I tossed a couple logs on the fire, covered the woman in a warm blanket, and started on dinner. I made an extra piece of fish, just in case she would wake up hungry.
An hour in the kitchen, and a few minutes at the table eating my dinner, she never woke, not even stirred. I cleaned everything up, carried her to my bed, and tucked her into the blankets for the night. Hopefully, the morning would bring some answers as to who she was and why she was out here in this weather all alone.
Chapter Two
Bailey
My eyes ached as they opened. Everything ached. I looked around the room from the bed where I was laying. I didn’t remember coming here. I didn’t remember any of this. Where the hell was I?
I scooted up in the
bed, realizing the pain in my hip and my leg. When my leg slid to the side of the bed, it felt as though it ripped from my hip socket. I struggled not to scream out in agony, but I couldn’t contain the low grunt that rolled from my throat. My head was still foggy, but I knew this place wasn’t familiar, and panic set in as I planned my escape.
My eyes scanned the room, quickly finding the front door. I stood, letting my weight bear down on the pain, but not willing to scream out for fear I’d alert my captor.
I pulled myself towards the door, dragging my left leg and doing my best not to put all of my weight on my left hip. My hands shook from the pain as they reached out to the door. Gripping the door knob, I got my first glimpse of the dark from the small window to my right. It was pitch black, no street lights, no lights from other houses, nothing.
“I didn’t hear you get up,” a male voice sent shivers down my spine, causing me to jump. I shrieked in pain and fear as my eyes moved towards a tall, scruffy man, with long hair that was wild as the sky in a storm. He looked confused, maybe concerned, it didn’t matter. I didn’t know him. I didn’t know what I was doing here. I didn’t even know where ‘here’ was.
As he moved towards me, his thick muscles caught the dim light of the room, showing off the artwork etched with ink into his skin. He smiled, his teeth straight, white, and nothing like I’d expected from his rough appearance.
“Don’t come any closer,” I screeched, lifting my hand from the door knob and lowering it into a copper bucket near the door. I grabbed the object sticking out from it, long, black, and what I thought possible a weapon. I swung it around in front of me, trying my best not to lose my footing as I realized it was only an umbrella.
The man stopped, his smile widened, and a chuckle rolled from his lips. “I’m serious, stay back. I’m not afraid to use this,” I yelled out to the man who seemed more amused with me than fearful.
“You’ll use that, huh?” he moved across the floor. He picked up a coffee cup from the ornate carved table by the fireplace. I watched him as he moved to the large fireplace that looked to have lost most of its once fierce roar of a flame. He gripped a tin pot that hung above the cinders, poured coffee into his cup, and then turned to me. “Coffee?” he asked as if we were old friends and I’d stopped by for a visit.
“No,” I muttered, shifting my weight to release some of the pain from standing. “I want to leave,” I said, almost as if I were asking his permission. He didn’t come towards me, threaten me, or even act as if he were interested in stopping me, but something froze me to that spot by the door.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, but you can leave if ya want to,” he smiled, then moved to the couch centered in the room. His back was to me, so I lowered the umbrella back into its copper bucket, and gripped the door knob once again. “Although, while you were sleeping, nearly ten inches of snow came down. Not sure you’re gonna make it very far, even if you didn’t have a hurt leg,” he said calmly, not even bothering to turn to me.
I snickered at the man, not willing to fall for his games. I turned the knob, opened the door to a fierce wind, pitch black skies, and snow so deep that it fell into the cabin and onto my feet. He laughed, again with amusement. “Where the fuck am I?” I demanded.
“You’re safe,” he replied, turning to offer a smile.
I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t know where I was, or how I got here. I was… where was I before I got here? My head felt foggy, and for some reason I couldn’t place myself anywhere before waking up in this strange cabin with this man. I couldn’t place myself anywhere before I got here.
“Come have a seat and get off that leg. I need to check your head bandage anyway,” he insisted.
My head bandage? I lifted my hand to my head, pushing my hair away from my forehead to feel the bandage attached to my skin. I cringed as my fingers rolled across the sore wound. That explains why I couldn’t remember—I hit my head. But it still didn’t explain what I was doing here.
His hand patted the cushion on the couch beside him. My weight was pushing my pain to heights I couldn’t handle much longer. I felt myself start to give in, to just fall, but I wasn’t ready to admit defeat just yet. I strained, pushing a loud yell from my lips that caused the man to stand quickly from his seat and move towards me.
I couldn’t run. I could barely stand.
Tension tightened in my shoulders as his strong arm wrapped around me, pushing under my arms to support my weight.
Up close, in the glow of the fireplace light, he was handsome—rugged, but extremely handsome. His smile was warm, kind, and for some reason eased my tension and offered some relief. I let him help me to the couch where I sat as he’d suggested moments earlier.
The cabin was one large room, the bed I’d woken up in pushed against the far left corner. A large fireplace was the focal point with the couch we sat on placed directly in front of the flickering flames. A kitchen was pushed off to the side. It was simple with just a small black refrigerator, an old gas stove, and a stainless steel sink big enough to bathe in. There were candles placed throughout the cabin, all burnt to at least half way down.
“No electricity?” I asked, not turning to look at the man who sat beside me, but instead, continuing to scan the room for clues as to where I was.
“It was a bad storm. No one was expecting it, not even you, I suppose,” he answered.
What had I done, or not done, to plan for this unexpected storm? He still hadn’t told me how I got here. I turned towards him. His long, shaggy, blond hair glowed against the flame that began to revive under the large black log that once smothered it. He had light blue eyes with speckles of gold that glistened and danced along with the growing fire. If I’d met him before, I knew I’d remember. There would be no way to forget a man so handsome as the stranger beside me.
Chapter Three
Xander
The frail woman I found on the path below my cabin woke up to be an alley cat. Her fire red hair frizzed from its braid, her full lips tightened, and her green eyes were filled with fear. Even though she was obviously scared, she impressed me with her bold and feisty demeanor.
I hadn’t been aware of her leg injury until I watched her struggle to stand. The pain she was suffering from didn’t stop her spunk. “How’s that leg?” I asked, avoiding making any movement towards her.
The bruise on her cheek covered what looked to be a cluster of freckles. Cute. The bandage I’d placed on her forehead was starting to loosen, and the blood from her wound was showing through. She reached down, rubbing her left leg, and moaned as her hand pressed against her thigh. “I don’t know. It hurts,” she grumbled. “My hip feels broken too,” she added, struggling to situate comfortably on the couch.
“Can I take a look?” I asked, glancing down at her jeans, not spotting any blood. She’d taken a good fall. If her hip was in fact broken, or her leg, I could tend to it well enough with my SEAL training, but I knew I’d have to figure out a way to get her off this mountain and to a hospital quick.
“How did I get here?” she asked, ignoring my concern about her injuries.
“I found you about a half mile or so down the mountain. You fell. Just lucky I was outside when you were still able to cry out for help,” I explained, even though she didn’t actually call out for help. Her moans were enough to send me on the hunt, but they were nearly shrugged off as wild creatures. I hadn’t been here long enough to know everything that lived on this mountain.
“How long have I been here?” she asked, her head falling into her hands.
“About eight hours,” I replied.
She lifted her head, staring into me with the greenest eyes I’d ever saw. I couldn’t tell if she was about to cry or curse me out again. I was hoping for the latter. I wasn’t good with crying women. Too gruff, or so I’d been told.
“I bandaged your head and tried waking you, but you were out cold. I didn’t think I could make it to the bottom of the mountain before the storm took hold, so I brought you h
ere,” I filled her in on some of the details. I was still curious about the other details, like who she was, and why on earth she was on that path alone with no phone, no identification, and no regard for the grey skies that lurked above her as she ascended the path.
“What was I doing there?” she asked, a strange confusion filling in her eyes. That was my question.
“Hiking, I assume. Although, I wasn’t sure why in this weather, and alone without any phone,” I shrugged.
“There wasn’t anyone with me?” she questioned, as if she thought there should be.
“I didn’t see anyone. Was someone with you?” I asked, now worried that I’d left someone on the path and under this ten inches of snow.
She shrugged her shoulders and let out a sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I did check both sides of the path, and I didn’t see anyone,” I offered as some relief. She didn’t seem relieved. Her eyebrows pushed down on her face, and her bottom lip slid under her top teeth. She looked confused about something, but I wasn’t sure what. “I didn’t mean to intrude by looking in your bag. I just wanted to find out who you were, find a phone so I could call someone, to let them know you were safe,” I proclaimed.
Her head shook slightly, and her eyes started to fill with tears. Shit, here comes the waterworks. “Is there someone I can call?” I asked.
Large tears flopped from her eyes as her head continued to shake. “I don’t know,” she sobbed, pushing her head into her hands.
Panic set into my bones like arthritis as I struggled with what to do, what to say. My hand slid to her back to offer some comfort, but she quickly jerked away, rejecting my attempt to console her.
“There has to be someone,” I offered, returning to my own space on the couch beside her.
“That’s just it. If there is someone, I can’t remember who that is,” she sobbed, her eyes wide and red as they locked onto mine.