CHAPTER THREE
“Who are you?”
The man looming over me was huge and almost stupidly handsome. He was well over six feet tall, and corded muscle strained against the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. It was an exact match to the one I had on, except blue. His thighs bulged against the material of his jeans, too, and I didn’t need to see under his clothes to know that his body was probably covered in firm, taut muscle everywhere.
I didn’t want to be intimidated, but I could hardly help my wariness. His posture – arms crossed over his chest – didn’t exactly scream friendliness. Nor did the frown – scowl, really – twisting his mouth. The man’s brow was drawn tight over piercing green eyes, too.
(The expression didn’t do much to detract from his attractiveness.)
He couldn’t have been much more than thirty years old, if that, and brown hair a few shades lighter than my own fell into his eyes. He had a straight nose and a strong jaw, covered in whiskers the same color as his hair. The growth there was too long to be considered stubble, but not quite long enough to be called a beard, either.
As ridiculously good-looking as he was, however, I couldn't help but wish he wouldn’t glare at me like I was some annoying bug he wanted to squash with his boot.
“My name’s Derek,” he finally managed to bite out when his dog – I assumed it was his dog – yapped at him. “I’m the owner of this cabin – this land – and I think the better question is… who are you?”
I had been hoping he could tell me. Anxiety swirled in my belly as I played with the fringes of the sleeves hanging past my hands.
“I… well, I don’t…” I tried before trailing off, not knowing what to say. The words got stuck somewhere on my tongue.
“Never mind,” he snapped when it became apparent I wasn’t going to be able to provide an eloquent answer. “I’m more concerned with what you were doing out in the woods – woods that I own – by yourself.”
I blinked. “I-”
“Did you not see the ‘no trespassing’ signs or did you just not think they applied to you?” he continued, cutting me off before I could answer. “Do you know how foolish you were to ignore them? There are wild animals in this area – elk, wolves, bears. You’re just a tiny… wisp of a thing. You’re lucky it was me who stumbled upon you.”
I fought the urge to shrink into myself as he scolded me. More than ashamed, though, I felt defensive.
After all, even though I didn't know me, he didn’t either.
“I found you in the damn river, half-drowned,” he added, finally finishing his tirade. “What the hell happened?”
I licked my dry lips. “Well, you see… I… I don’t remember.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t remember?” he repeated incredulously before snorting. “That’s awfully convenient.”
I swallowed back a sarcastic comment about just how “convenient” I found my current predicament in the face of his barefaced anger. “I know. I… I’m sorry,” I said, offering an apology instead.
He stared at me for a long moment, his green eyes losing some of their fire as they searched my brown ones. He must have sensed that I was being sincere – and I truly was remorseful for the inconvenience I had obviously caused him.
The man – Derek – sighed. “You know what? It doesn’t even matter.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I didn’t see a purse or bag anywhere near where I found you, so I take it you didn’t have a phone on you when you decided to venture out into my woods?”
So possessive.
“Uh… no?”
He frowned, and I knew my answer probably sounded as uncertain in his ears as it did mine. “Okay,” he finally drawled. “Look, your… sundress, or whatever it was you were wearing when I found you, wasn’t salvageable. You can keep the clothes I loaned you.” He gestured vaguely at the plaid shirt threatening to slip down one of my shoulders. “If you put on your shoes,” he said as he jerked his head in the direction of the small entryway where I spotted a pair of white wedges, “I’ll drive you to The Tavern. They have a pay phone you can use to call someone to come pick you up. Mine only has local service.”
I pressed my lips together, a protest getting trapped somewhere in my throat, its inner walls swelling around the words. After all, who would I call?
Before I could explain my dilemma to the man, however, he turned his back to me and started for the door.
I sighed, glancing down at the dog – Thane, apparently – who had sat, watching our entire exchange with bright, intelligent eyes. He was much more amiable than his owner. I bent over, resting my weight on my haunches as I scratched him behind his ears. “Is he always this grumpy?” I grumbled.
If I had been looking, I would have seen Derek’s back stiffen. “Your shoes,” he barked from where he stood, waiting impatiently at the door.
Not wanting to test the man’s patience – after all, despite his sour mood, he had for all intents and purposes, saved my life – I hurried over to him and slipped on the wedges, fastening the straps around my ankles with practiced fingers before taking a moment to really look at the sandals adorning my feet. There were tiny gems encrusted on the straps.
Huh.
I never would have pegged myself for someone with such… glittery tastes.
When I was finished, Derek wordlessly opened the door and once again jerked his head, indicating I should go out.
I obeyed the silent order, stepping out onto his porch.
The sun had already set, but the moon, high in the sky, provided enough light to see. I took in the abundant garden and small, shed-like building in Derek’s large, grassy yard before looking towards the towering evergreens in the distance.
I was standing on the edge of a cliff, surrounded by similar evergreens. A strong gust of wind made my hair dance.
I blinked hard and dug the palms of my hands into my eyes as the sudden flash of what seemed like… a memory?... assaulted me.
Derek grunted from his spot behind me, bringing me back to the present, and I realized I was standing in his way. “Sorry,” I muttered, quickly stepping aside to let him by.
He shouldered past me, and I hesitantly followed him down the porch steps.
It was a large porch – not quite a wrap-around, but there was plenty of room for the wooden, two-person swing Derek had stationed near the door. It was protected from the elements by the overhanging roof.
I could imagine the man and his dog swaying there on drizzly nights as fat drops of rain fell lazily from the sky, pitter-pattering against the roof.
Rain.
I was almost completely certain it had been raining the last time I’d been outside. Storming, even. I vaguely recalled the roar of approaching thunder and the impression of lightning.
It was perfectly calm out now – a balmy seventy degrees and not a cloud in the sky. A pleasant breeze tickled the back of my neck, and I couldn't help but wonder what season it was. Spring? Summer?
It was disconcerting to realize I didn't know.
“What day is it?” I asked hesitantly as Derek led me to the beat-up, red pick-up truck parked on the gravel driveway not far from the porch. There was no garage. (There were, however, some beautiful pieces of carved lumber, shaped in the form of animals, stationed near the porch. They looked like they’d been made by the same steady hand as the one that belonged to whomever had chiseled similar creatures into the headboard of the man’s – Derek’s – bed.)
“The sixth,” he muttered as he yanked open the rusted, passenger-side door of his truck.
I bit my lip. “The sixth?” I pressed.
He shot me an odd look. “Of July.”
So it was summer then. I nodded to myself. “July. Right.”
He frowned, and it looked like he wanted to say something, but ultimately, he just shook his head before nodding towards his truck. “Get in.”
I hurried to oblige and hauled myself up. In my eagerness to please, however, the wedged heel of my shoe slipped off the little metal step, and I felt myself falling backwards. I made a quick grab for the door handle but missed.
Luckily – or perhaps, not so luckily judging by the scowl on his face – Derek caught me around the middle before I could hit the ground. “For Christ’s sake.”
Instead of releasing me, he used the grip he had around my waist to lift me into the truck himself. “A fucking wisp,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he tucked me in. I desperately tried to tame the wild flush I could feel crawling up my neck as he went a step further, grabbing the seatbelt before pulling it across my chest and connecting it to the corresponding buckle with a click.
After making sure I was strapped in securely, he slammed the door shut.
I folded my hands in my lap to stop myself from playing nervously with my fingers as he walked around to the other door and slid into the driver’s seat. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to thwart the urge to point out his hypocrisy when instead of pulling on his own seatbelt, he merely started up the truck and put it into drive before heading down the gravel driveway.
A few minutes later we were pulling out onto a highway. There was no traffic – the road was practically deserted – but I noticed the lights of a town a couple miles up the road.
“So… The Tavern?” I asked hesitantly, peeking at the man on my left. His eyes remained firmly on the road. “Is that like a bar?”
“That is what its name implies.” He paused before begrudgingly adding, “It’s a little dive on the edge of town.”
Ignoring his attitude, I nodded. “And what town would that be?”
He frowned again, finally taking his eyes off the road to look at me. “Pine Ridge.” At my blank stare, he added, “Washington,” like he thought I was slow.
He probably did.
“Of course.” Washington sounded familiar. I knew it was a state, obviously, but I was also pretty sure I lived there. Pine Ridge didn’t sound familiar, though.
I shifted in my seat, trying not to let the silence that followed bother me. After all, I didn't think I was the type of person silence bothered. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t exactly revel in it, but I thought I might have been used to it.
And yet…
“You’re not a very social person, are you?”
Derek raised an eyebrow, and it wasn’t until after I had blurted it out that I realized the observation may have been a bit tactless.
“Not that that’s a bad thing,” I rushed to add, my face feeling incredibly hot. “Not talking a lot, I mean. There’s something peaceful about the silence… which I am totally ruining by jabbering on. Right. Sorry,” I offered for the umpteenth time that evening.
Derek snorted – I couldn’t quite tell if the noise stemmed from amusement or anger – but he didn’t otherwise acknowledge the apology.
Regardless, the silence seemed more comfortable after that.
By the time Derek was pulling off the highway a few minutes later, it was obvious why I didn’t recognize the name “Pine Ridge”. The town was tiny, and we would have passed the miniscule thing in a blink of an eye if Derek hadn’t pulled into what I assumed was The Tavern.
The building was located directly off the highway and looked exactly as the man had described – a dive.
It wasn’t a dump, though.
In fact, it was almost… homey for a bar. The Tavern was only one full story – with perhaps an attic or small apartment on top – but it stretched the length of at least two regular-sized buildings. Its siding was painted a burgundy color a few shades darker than Derek’s truck, and its roof was made of steel. Yellow light shone through the windows that advertised different brands of beer, and the sign on its blue door said “open”.
As I took in the sight, Derek parked the truck in the bar’s large gravel lot and turned off the engine. Before I could do more than unbuckle my seat belt, he was at my door. He jerked it open before helping me down.
After taking a moment to lock up his truck – it was an old model and he had to do it manually – Derek led me towards the payphone he’d talked about at his cabin. It was about five feet from The Tavern’s entrance, stationed near a window.
I took a moment to just stare at it.
I hadn’t thought that things like… this… existed anymore in the modern age of cell phones, but I had obviously been wrong. The proof was right in front of me.
The phone wasn’t even in a booth; it was just a little thing attached to a dial box by a curly cord and protected from Washington’s hot-and-cold weather by a little oval structure that was stationed on a rusted pole.
“Here.”
Derek’s rough timbre shook me from my stupor. I turned towards him to see he was holding out his hand palm-side up, two quarters there.
I blinked.
“Jesus,” he muttered, and I winced at the irritation lacing his voice. He snatched my wrist, his grip gentle despite his harsh tone. “For the phone,” he explained brusquely. “So you can call someone to pick you up, remember? You can do that, right?”
“O-Of course,” I managed to spit out. “I… I just…” I pressed my lips together, trying to figure out how to explain that I had no one to call. I watched as he clenched his jaw in annoyance and shifted impatiently on his feet.
“What?” he demanded.
I deflated. “Nothing,” I finally managed, curling my fingers around the cold coins he’d dropped into my hand. I couldn’t bring myself to force my problems onto the man. It was obvious enough that he’d had enough of my company as it was. “Just thanks, I guess. For everything.”
I owed him much more than a couple quarters, after all.
A muscle in the man’s jaw twitched at my “thanks”, but he showed no other visible reaction to my words of gratitude. “Right,” he muttered, hesitating only a second before turning around without so much as a good-bye. He strode into the bar, the blue door swinging shut behind him.
I pressed my lips together, and inwardly scolded myself for feeling so downtrodden about his abandonment. He doesn’t owe you anything, I reminded myself sternly. All I had been was an inconvenience to him, and if anyone was indebted to anyone, it was me to him.
I ran my thumb over the smooth, shiny surface of one of the quarters before sighing. Not knowing what else to do, I carefully picked up the pay phone receiver and put it to my ear. Then I inserted the quarters into the appropriate slot. A little white sticker on the side of the phone said to press “0” to contact an operator, so that’s what I did.
Brrring. Brrring.
The phone rang twice before anyone answered.
“Hello, this is the operator speaking. How may I be of service?”
“Hi, this is…” But I didn't know.
It was like a lump the size of Mount Everest suddenly sprouted up in my throat, and I couldn’t speak around it.
“I’m sorry. What was that? Can I connect you to someone?”
Tears sprung into my eyes, and I didn't know what to say. Should I ask to speak with the police? “I-I…” I stuttered, fighting to speak around the lump.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
I swallowed and wet my lips, preparing to try again, but before I could make any words come, the loud sound of the dial tone suddenly hit my ears.
The operator had hung up.
I stood there for a moment in shock, the traitorous tears wetting my eyes threatening to fall. What was I supposed to do now?
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the unexpected voice and whirled around to see who had spoken.
A man stood between me and the blue door of the bar. He had a sturdy build, but wasn’t particularly tall – maybe a few inches shy of six feet. Blond hair spilled out from underneath his cap, and he was watching me with bright blue eyes that practically oozed concern.
He was also wearing a police officer’s uniform.
“Ma’am?” he repeated. “Are you okay?”
I blinked and hurriedly wiped away the wetness from my eyes. It was like whatever deity was watching over me was giving me another chance to explain my circumstances to someone who could help. “I… I’m not sure, Officer,” I revealed cautiously, hanging up the phone.
The faintest hint of pink darkened his cheeks at the formal way I’d addressed him. He immediately stood straighter. “What is it that’s bothering you? Is it something I can help with?”
I bit my lip. “Maybe?” I hedged, not sure myself.
I knew I was coming across as unnecessarily mysterious, but how was I supposed to come out and explain that I had woken up in some strange man’s cabin with absolutely no idea who I was?
The policeman glanced surreptitiously at The Tavern’s blue door before directing his gaze back at me. “Well, if you don’t want to explain to me what’s got you so upset out here,” he said cautiously, obviously sensing my unease, “you’re welcome to join me in The Tavern.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I could buy you dinner?”
The offer of food made me abruptly very aware of my empty belly. It twisted in sudden but gripping hunger. My mind had been so preoccupied since I’d woken up that it hadn’t even occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten in what had to have been close to twenty-four hours, if not longer.
Regardless of the knot my stomach had twisted itself into at the promise of food, however, something made me hesitate. While nothing about the man’s offer had been flirtatious, there was still a hopeful shine in his eyes that made it feel like accepting his offer was akin to agreeing to a date.
“I don't know,” I waffled, but I was sorely tempted to agree.
I glanced through the bar window.
Like they were attracted there by some magnetic force, my eyes immediately zeroed in on the man who had found me unconscious on his property – Derek.
He was sitting on a stool at the bar, a woman hanging off his arm. His back was to me, and I couldn’t make out her features through the blurry window, only that she was voluptuous with long, blonde hair. He turned his head and smirked at her.
And just like that, I was no longer hungry.
It was like my stomach had shriveled up and disappeared altogether. I took a step away from the window. “You know, I think I’m going to be fine actually.”
It was a lie. But I couldn’t go in there; I just couldn’t. Not when I innately knew that my presence would bother him – distract him from that woman, whoever she was.
The policeman crinkled his forehead in confusion. “Are you sure?”
I forced myself to nod. “I’m sure, but thanks for the offer, Officer.”
He once again flushed at the title. “You can call me Ash.”
“Ash, then,” I obliged. “I appreciate you asking after me, but I’m… waiting for someone actually.” It was another lie, but the policeman – Ash – didn’t seem to notice. His shoulders, however, did droop a little at the second rejection.
“Alright, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Have a good evening…” he trailed off, clearly expecting a name to match the one he’d given me.
I tensed, unsure what to say, and his expression twisted when a few seconds passed, and then a few more, and I still hadn’t answered.
“Wisp!”
The word shot out of my mouth – with much more enthusiasm than the situation probably called for – before I could stop it, my malfunctioning brain apparently having fixated on what Derek had called me – “a wisp of a thing” – and deciding for some reason it was a good name.
Ash frowned. “Wisp?”
I nodded, feeling a blush creeping up my neck now. “My name… it’s Wisp.”
“Huh. Well, have a good evening then, Wisp,” he said, tipping his hat. It didn’t sound the same coming from his mouth as Derek’s, but it felt right somehow to be called that.
I watched as Ash reluctantly turned and entered the bar, leaving me alone. Again.
A part of me – the logical part – scolded myself for letting the police officer walk away. It begged me to go in after him and explain my circumstances to the man no matter how odd – unbelievable, really – they sounded. But something else in me – something other – told me that I had made the right decision.
But now what?
I sighed, glancing up at the night sky. It was black, but alight with half a moon and a smattering of stars. Besides the artificial yellow exuding from The Tavern’s windows, and the single street light on the opposite end of the parking lot, they were the only sources of light in the dark.
I didn't know what to do, but I also knew that I couldn’t stay where I was.
I walked across the gravel lot, kicking a rock with the toe of my sandal until I reached the highway. Picking a direction at random, I began hiking through the knee-high grass in the shallow ditch.
I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I think I figured maybe if I walked long enough, something – anything – would come to me.
The fact that I had turned right had absolutely nothing at all to do with the fact that it was the way back to the strange man’s – to Derek’s – cabin.
Truly.
It had nothing to do with it at all.