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“Jesus, this is stupid.”
“What did you say?”
Startled, I look up to see that she’s propped herself up on her elbows and is staring at me. There’s a neat line between her eyebrows where she’s scowling. Her bra is still askew, with her nipples still peeking out at me. I force myself not to look at them.
“You’re awake.”
“I feel like shit. Did you drug me?”
“No, I told you. You sprained your ankle. Your body just wants to sleep and heal.”
“Tell me the truth,” she insists.
“Why wouldn’t I tell you the truth?” I answer immediately. “As far as I know, you’re not worth lying to.”
She tips her head back as though surprised by my answer. “Okay, that’s a new one.”
Standing, I try to keep my eyes averted and pluck the blanket up off the floor, ready to throw it over her again. But she swings her legs to the side, gingerly setting her right toes on the floor, then her left heel.
“You got a bathroom in this place?”
“Yeah… Let me help you.”
She lets me wrap my arm under her arms, and I practically can carry her entire rib cage in just the crook of my right arm. She such a tiny thing. Tentatively she tries out walking but I end up just carrying her most of the way to the small bathroom in the corner of the cabin.
“The pipes are heated,” I explain. “There’s water even when the weather is at its worst. You can even take a shower if you want, I guess. We’re probably going to be here for a while yet.”
She glances up at me, blinking. Though I can see the veneer of cagey mistrust, there’s something tender and trusting just below that. She’s not naturally bitchy. She’s just a little wounded, like an animal that’s been mistreated but is still worth saving.
“A while?” she repeats. “How long is a while?”
Pulling a towel from the small closet, I make a mental calculation.
“Well, the snow is done, at least for now. But your ankle will probably take a couple of weeks to heal. Unless I carry you, or someone comes to get you, you’re looking at... weeks.”
Her eyes are wide with disbelief. A flush creeps up her cheeks, illuminating her freckles.
“Weeks? Are you kidding me? I can’t be here for weeks! You can’t keep me here!”
What was I expecting, gratitude? Shit. I just offered to take care of her stupid gimpy ass, and this is the attitude I’m getting?
“Keep you here? I didn’t even invite you here! You’re lucky I don’t toss your ass back out in the snow!”
Her mouth opens and closes helplessly as she tries to think of something to say, but I don’t want to hear it. I just close the door and leave her there, hoping maybe a shower will settle her thoughts.
I don’t know what she’s doing in there, but I hope it’s getting a better attitude. I find myself pacing the floor, though it’s only four steps from corner to corner. I spent last night sleeping in a chair for this woman. Does she even realize that? I watched her body, making sure she didn’t go into shock from some kind of internal injury or something. I brought her into my cabin… For all intents and purposes my secret lair… And she’s going to complain?
But then again, she’s got a point. I can’t just abduct her. Even though she’s legally trespassing, I can’t keep her against her will. I’m sure the outside world hasn’t changed so much that they look past kidnapping if the woman was asking for it, more or less.
I need to get her back to wherever she came from, without letting her know who I am, where she was, or how to get back here. I need to get her to promise, maybe legally agree?
The sound of the shower is faint but steady, and I suppose she’s probably still trying to figure out how to stand there on her good foot and get clean. Checking over my shoulder to make sure the door is still closed, I retrieve a cell phone from the desk and press the power button to turn it back on. It’s been nice spending a few days incommunicado, but I suppose this qualifies as an emergency.
“Oh, look who’s calling, it’s the old man on the mountain,” comes Carty’s sarcastic voice when the call connects. “Are you done playing Paul Bunyan yet?”
“Oh, give it a rest,” I sigh, instantly irritated. Looks like I didn’t get to spend quite enough time away from him after all.
“We didn’t figure we’d be hearing from you for another couple of days,” he continues. “With the storm and everything, we figured you’d be recreating the Donner party experience, maybe go all the way to cannibalism. You giving up so soon?”
