Chapter Three
When he left her alone a few days later, she rose from her bed. She finally had some of her strength back and was going to use it for her first trip to the bathroom without Nurse Annie, and as a trial run for her escape plans. She cursed under her breath when Yukon walked in the bedroom just as she shut the washroom door.
She sat and wondered how she was going to get out of this now. Her rescuer was getting less and less patient with her, as was the old nurse. Voices in the bedroom silenced her thoughts.
“Annie, she’s got some sort of retrograde amnesia.”
“You watched too many soaps with those RCMP boys in Ottawa, Yukon.” Annie laughed at his growl, before continuing. “It’s been over a week, and besides not remembering the actual accident, and maybe some of the events leading up to it, is one thing; not knowing your name is a whole ‘nother can of worms. That girl’s not telling us anything because she doesn’t want to. You’ll see.”
When Avery was finished she leaned against the counter, not wanting to face either of them.
“There’s a loose board on the chicken coop, and I’m worried about that cat. Can you take a look today? The girl’s fine on her own now. In fact, you don’t need to sleep here anymore.” Annie’s voice had taken on a growl that resembled Yukon’s, and if the situation weren’t so dire, Avery might have laughed. It was good to hear him getting scolded for once. “Why don’t you go on back to your mountain and leave us alone? I haven’t had a man here overnight since my husband died four years ago and I can’t say as I like it. You snore!”
“No, I don’t. You just don’t like me keeping an eye on you.”
Annie huffed. “I’m going to get my daughter to drop her off at the hospital if she keeps claiming amnesia. Nothing I can do about it, whether it’s truth or a lie. I was a nurse and not a psych one either. Even if Allan were alive, his prescription would be to ship her off for a psych eval.”
“I’m no doctor, but I’d prescribe something different myself.” Yukon’s voice was low and severe, making Avery shiver, but Annie laughed again.
“Don’t think I didn’t hear your threat, Yukon. I know exactly what you’d prescribe. Hell, I’ve felt like spanking her a few times myself.” Now it was Yukon’s turn to laugh, deep from his belly. Avery clenched her jaw. It wasn’t funny. His threat made her feel squirmy and vulnerable and way too aware of her womanhood.
“Let’s go check on that coop.”
Avery listened carefully, waiting for them to leave. When the door slapped shut, she knew her chance had come. Getting away while Yukon was distracted was her best bet, and it was especially urgent now with Annie planning on shipping her off. The hospital would probably involve the cops, and that was exactly what she wanted to avoid.
Her clothes had been washed and hung in the closet, so she gingerly put them on, leaving the gown she’d been wearing on the bed. Her boots were under the chair Yukon had been occupying for the last week. She grabbed them quickly but it took longer to don them while she was weak. Nabbing Yukon’s jacket and toque sitting on the chair, she made her way through the house.
Annie had chatted a lot over the week, so Avery had discovered Yukon had a cabin up the mountain three miles away. She’d also learned Annie’s husband had been a doctor, and they’d run the practice out of the farm for forty-seven years before he’d died. She had one daughter and she was almost as much of a recluse as Yukon. If Avery left now before anyone else got involved, she was confident no one would know she’d been there and Yukon and Annie would be safe.
Avery’s strength waned quickly, so her best pace was slow and steady. She’d get back to the Jeep, grab her purse, and somehow get the hell out of New Brunswick before someone came sniffing around the broken guard rail looking for the wreck. She’d worry about the somehow later.
* * *
Mike came back inside and threw himself into the chair. He should have been at home. He kept telling himself as soon as she was out of danger he’d leave her, but every day he stayed, only going home to shower and check on the cabin and Rocky. Annie had even been feeding him. He supposed him being there was good for Annie, too. The old girl was slowing down, and there was a lot to do on the farm that she just didn’t have the strength for anymore.
He looked at the bathroom door and grunted. In the bathroom, again? He glanced at the water glass on the nightstand and frowned. Still full. His instincts prodded him. Had she collapsed? But then he noticed his hat and coat were gone.
Shit!
He leaned forward to look under the chair. Damn it! How long had he and Annie been outside? Half an hour? No, it’d been longer than that, because he’d found several more things that needed repair, not to mention he’d mucked the stalls while Annie fed the animals. He’d been gone well over an hour, maybe closer to two.
The girl would have a head start, but she’d be slow. Hell, she could barely walk to the bathroom without getting winded.
“Annie, she’s gone. I’m going after her,” he said abruptly, and was out the door before Annie could answer. He patted his pockets as he got to the driveway and cursed. The damn keys to the ATV were in his coat pocket, but thankfully it was still there. He glanced left and right and shoved a hand through his hair before his eyes settled on the tire tracks. She’d follow them if she wanted to get back to the Jeep.
He knew from the condition of the vehicle she’d been speeding. She’d mumbled a lot about a moose and cried, “Alex, I don’t want to die” the first few nights. He also knew she was not Tim Lester, the name on the ownership and insurance slip. Who was Tim, and how did the girl know him? Mike’s instincts had his mind back in cop mode working the facts.
He’d taken her stuff out of the car in hopes of finding out who she was, but the only thing he’d found was a change of clothes, a gun, and a wad of cash. No ID, not even a license. That had his alarm bells ringing, but based on his years of experience in law enforcement, he didn’t peg her as a criminal either.
Maybe he should have just handed her shit over to the New Brunswick PD and been done with her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Something about her made him hold off on that decision. He knew the kind of fear she faced. He could see it in her eyes. He’d lived through the same kind of fear, too. His only saviors had been Annie, the cabin, and Rocky.
If there was anything he’d learned as a recluse, it was that deep down he still needed to be needed. And this girl needed him.
* * *
Avery followed the path she found along the road that led into the dense bush. She wasn’t sure when they’d discover she was gone, but he’d probably expect her to stick to the roads. Plus, the trail had fresh ATV tracks and that was the only way she’d be able to find her way back. As she struggled, dauntingly slow through the brush, she thought about her original plan, pre-moose, and pre-mountain-man rescue. She’d keep on heading east to Nova Scotia—keep ahead of the thugs and revisit the places she’d been with her parents.
When her list was complete, she’d find a small town, settle in, and pray they’d never find her, but if they did, she’d at least have seen the places she longed to.
Avery’s breath was labored and her exhaustion was in full force, but if she wanted to see her plan through, she had to push herself and get back to the Jeep.
Looking ahead, Avery wondered how much farther she had to go. Not only did she have to get back and get her money and gun, but she had to make sure no one else found it. It would raise suspicion, and damn, if they figured out the car was stolen and she got caught—. She swallowed. How had her life gotten so complicated? One minute she was a simple farm girl going off to college, the next she was married to a con artist and her life was crumbling around her.
The wind had picked up, so she tightened the jacket around her throat, but her mind lingered on Alex. It was partly her own fault for falling for him. Maybe if she hadn’t been so eager for love, she would have seen through his façade—the money, plus freedom from her strict, unloving grandparents, had intoxicated her. She hadn’t been thinking clearly, and she hadn’t sobered for years.
Drawing in a breath, she steadied herself against a tree. She’d grown up praying that her grandparents would love her. As she got older, the prayers, childish dreams, and memories of a life with unconditional love had disappeared. Then she met Alex, but he was just as much of a disappointment.
The brush was tangled and frozen since the temperature had risen for a few days and then dropped suddenly. Every time Avery slipped on ice, or her foot snagged on tangled roots, she’d break out in a sweat, and her stitches would pull painfully.
Keep moving. One foot and then another.
The sight of the Jeep made her eyes widen, first in relief that she’d made it and then in shock. How had she survived when the vehicle was so mangled? She narrowed her eyes quickly as the gusts of frigid wind made them water.
She was humbled by the wreckage. It was a miracle she’d lived, let alone still stood. A wave of dizziness struck, and her vision doubled. She grabbed the Jeep to steady herself. Her hands were freezing, and the cold steel didn’t help.
Looking to the ground, she breathed in deep and slow, but the moment her vision cleared she noted the frozen prints on the ground. It brought her mind back to the crash and rescue, remembering a bear. Her brow furrowed at the thought. Maybe it was a dog, she considered. But those prints definitely looked bear-ish, and there was another set too.
Avery crouched lower and examined them. Maybe… a cat? Not a house cat though but a wild cat—something big and dangerous. She shivered and stood, closing the coat tighter around her neck again and peering around. What was in these mountains?
She climbed with her knees onto the driver’s seat, ignoring the stabbing pull to her leg sutures—not to mention the bitter cold that blew up the back of the jacket. She had to find her purse, and she needed some shelter. She looked up as the snow started.
Anxiousness flooded her the more she looked unsuccessfully for her purse. She wanted out of the woods as fast as possible—away from the elements, bears, cats, and… as if on cue a lone wolf howled in the distance and several answered, sounding nearer. Her hands trembled and she felt terror building. She sucked in a deep breath. She was just overwhelmed and exhausted. She’d be okay. Wouldn’t she?
After several more minutes of riffling through the wreck, she was still empty handed. She stood staring, dumbfounded, ignoring her eyes that watered profusely from the bitter wind. Her purse was gone. The money, the gun, her bag of toiletries and change of clothes—all gone. A wave of nausea had her doubling over, and panic overtook her. Had her husband’s killers found her already? She clutched her knees for support and tried to control her rapid breathing.
“Lookin’ for something?” Yukon’s gruff voice made her bolt upright and the world started to spin so fast she stumbled and ended up on her butt. She groaned in embarrassment, but she was relieved at the sight of him, especially as the wolves howled again.
He grumbled a curse, sounding disgruntled and hoisted her up. She swayed unsteadily and shivered from the cold. Him looking completely comfortable in the icy wilderness pissed her off.
“Wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking leaving Annie’s? Walking three miles when yesterday you couldn’t even get to the bathroom alone?” he growled, sounding more beast than man. “And how about being out in this?” His gloved hand gestured up to the falling snow and howling wind. “They’re predicting a massive storm. One that will take the lives of anyone stupid enough to get caught in it. Do you want to die, little girl?” His hands slammed onto his hips. “Do you?”
“Uh, of course not.” Wasn’t death-by-nature exactly what she’d been wishing for a week ago? He grunted, yanking her out of her thoughts. “I didn’t know,” she mumbled dumbly.
“It’s been all over the news you’ve been watching for days.” Avery leaned forward and clutched her knees again—this time breathing in and out in steady puffing breaths. She hadn’t given a damn about the weather report; she was watching the news for anything pertaining to her or the two men who chased her.
He swore again, walked to the rear of the Jeep, and popped open the door. Walking back to her, he bent down, scooped an arm behind her knees, and lifted her up, making her yelp in surprise. He sat her down in the back. It was the only place unaffected by the crash, but the wind blew in, curved around and back out with a bitter whine.
“You’re in no shape to be out of bed, little girl,” his voice shouted over a loud rush of wind. “You’re also in no condition to be exploring the forest with cougars, bears, and wolves around in a friggin’ storm. Especially not where the smell of blood is strong enough to attract predators for miles.” His arms were across his broad chest and his stern eyes plowed into hers. She felt a blip of nervousness and more heat.
She was confounded by her attraction to this gruff man. She should have been repulsed by his abrupt and demanding mannerisms, but she wasn’t. She tilted her head. There was concern underlying the grousing. This man cared. How could he care when both her family and Alex hadn’t?
“Where’s your coat?” she asked, suddenly noticing he wasn’t wearing one. He didn’t appear cold, but he should have. He was only wearing a blue checkered shirt with a white waffle-knit thermal under it. “You have the nerve to lecture me and you don’t even have a bloody coat on!” His right brow shot up and he looked hard at her attire. She looked down at herself. Oh, yeah. She was wearing his coat. She looked back at him meekly. “Oops.”
“Not only did you take my coat, little girl, but my keys, too.” She felt the pockets and frowned, her gut sinking. She started shrugging out of the coat but he stopped her with a warning glare, so she pulled it back on. He came closer and pulled it tighter, buttoning it up to the neck until she no longer felt the frigid air at her throat.
“Little girl?” She hugged her gut. “Why do you always call me that?” Her voice felt hoarse.
“Any woman acting like you may as well be a little girl—one in desperate need of some discipline.” His eyes narrowed. “If you weren’t such a mess and it wasn’t so damn cold, I’d put you over my knee right here.” He leaned both arms on either side of her and leaned close. “Besides, you won’t tell me your goddamned name so I have to call you something, don’t I?”
“Oh, yeah. I guess,” was all she could reply. These threats did something strange to her insides. She looked at him with a head tilt, suddenly feeling amused. “Discipline from my daddy?” she smirked inappropriately, remembering their conversation when he’d fed her.
“Yes. What you need is a damn good spanking.” His mouth curved slightly beneath his beard. “From your daddy.”
With his handsome face so close to hers and his mention of spanking, she squirmed on the hard, cold storage space. There was something about his no-nonsense, self-assured manner that made her insides turn to mush. She leaned back to give herself some space and his stern eyes tightened further.
“Thank you for saving me, but I need to get out of here.” She shoved forward this time, hoping he’d step out of the way. He didn’t.
“Do you by chance have my purse? I can’t find it.” She tried to put on her sweetest smile, but then remembered her face. A girl with bandages on her head had zero flirting power.
“And how do you expect to do that?” He stood tall and crossed his big arms so he was more brick wall than obstacle. He took that position a lot, she noted, remembering his armchair-guard routine. He even slept with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
“Do what?” she asked, distracted by his rigid stance and his wilderness-man hotness.
“You can’t walk more than a few feet without looking as weak and unsteady as a newborn kitten and besides, didn’t you hear me about the storm?” He put his hands on his narrow hips and her eyes followed to his thick thighs.
“What’s your hurry, little girl?” he asked, making her look back up at his scrutinizing glare. Her gut flipped nervously as his eyes shifted between hers. Was he reading her? Her throat worked to swallow. His expression tightened a fraction. Was that annoyance or the biting wind, she wondered.
Her jaw clenched angrily as she slid off the back of the Jeep. He had no right to judge her. She gingerly moved past him, going back to the side door to look in the wreckage for her purse again.
“None of your damn business!”
He snorted.
“Maybe I should have left you here for the cougar,” he said. “Seems I went through a lot of effort for someone with a death wish.” He walked back to the front of the Jeep and picked up the shotgun he’d brought with him. Her eyes widened in fear a moment as the flash of Alex’s bloody murder hit her, but before he noticed she hid it with anger. “Death wish? You think I have a death wish?” she cursed, spinning on him and then regretting it as she stumbled, catching herself at the last second by grabbing his hard forearm. She looked at her hand, tiny against his brawny arm, and swallowed dryly before releasing him.
“I want to live more than anything.” she said aggressively, looking up at his hard blue eyes. “I want to find beauty in the little things again, to garden and dodge waves at the beach. I want read books, drink wine, play badminton on a hot summer afternoon until I’m left in a heap of giggles on the grass. I want to fall in love again, sit by the fire on a snowy afternoon, and stay up all night talking on the phone. I want to live, damn you!” She straightened and attempted to slam the door to the Jeep but it only groaned and whined, bouncing back toward her. She huffed and crossed her arms, looking up to keep the tears pooling in her lids where they were, but the wind blew them across her cheeks anyway. She turned back to him, her eyes finding and holding his. “But doing so requires me getting as far away from this wreck as possible. And my purse isn’t here and I need it.” Her head was pounding and she closed her eyes, letting more tears spill onto her cheeks. The stitches burned and her muscles ached from overdoing it after being in bed for almost two weeks. She tried to ignore her growing panic and anger, burying it deep. Were those really things she wanted? To fall in love again? After the crushing disappointment of Alex all these years? After being used yet again by someone that was supposed to have her best interests at heart? A gust of wind pushed her and she held herself strong and leaned into it. When the world pushes, sometimes you need to push back.
When she opened her eyes again, his face was unreadable. Was it anger that pulsed from him? What right did he have to be angry with her? He didn’t even know her—not even her name. Her gaze dropped and she started around the other side of the Jeep. Maybe her purse had slid across the seats.
She yanked the door and started tossing anything she found out of the Jeep in a temper. The guy she stole it from was a bloody slob too, so there was a lot to throw. Yukon came up behind her and she pelted his chest with some fast food containers with vehemence. She stared, pausing for his reaction for a few beats until his brow cocked and she spun back to complete her mission. Before she could toss another thing, a loud pop sounded and her cold ass stung.
“What the…?” He’d smacked her ass? Before she could protest further, another several sharp cracks landed on her bottom and he wrapped his arm gently, but firmly, around her gut and pulled her away from the Jeep. When he released her, she was speechless, only absorbing the absurdity and the tingling beneath the seat of her jeans.
“That’s enough, little girl. Damn well enough. You need to snap out of this crazy rant and think straight.” A blast of cold wind bit as if supporting him.
She hollered a fury-filled curse skyward and he leaned close.
“I have never met someone more in need of a good hard thrashing than you.”
She balked and he straightened, his stormy eyes filling with satisfaction. She gritted her teeth and reached back to punch him as hard as she could, but he caught her wrist and yanked her hard against him. Tears of frustration stung her eyes. She started to push from him but his brows cinched tight and his arm rose, the flat of his broad palm poised to deliver another swat, so she stilled. She blinked, her chest heaving in exertion against his. He was solid and so was his damn hand.
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” she said in disbelief, her mouth curving down into a small frown. He released her wrist and she shuffled back.
“I’m sorry.” She lowered her face into her hands. She didn’t even know why she was apologizing. He was the one who had hit her, she reasoned, but it was stupid to throw a tantrum in her condition.
She probably did deserve the spanking for being such a mess, and it had certainly snapped her out of her fit, but he was a stranger. She sucked cold air through her fingers, logical thinking calming her. It was a relief to have someone notice she was falling apart, and to be concerned without ulterior motives. But he had no reason to care, and no reason to stay with her. Who was this craggy mountain man?
“Come on,” he said gently, pulling her hands away from her face and tilting her chin up with his crooked finger. “I figured I’d find you here and I brought you something for pain if you need it.” He removed a bottle of over-the-counter tablets from his jeans pocket and shook them. “Can you walk?”
She nodded, still confused by his care and unexpected gentleness after he’d smacked her ass, and after she’d attempted to wallop him. It overwhelmed her. More watery emotion threatened, but she drew a breath and stood tall. She hadn’t cried since everything had happened. She’d refused to. Crying was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She’d learned that as a child.
She wouldn’t be that weak little girl again. No way. She was going to survive if it was the last thing she did. She’d damn well go down guns blazing. The last thought made her chuckle to herself. Suddenly she was some Rambo chick? Yeah, right. A Rambo chick who threw a temper tantrum and got her butt smacked by a rugged dominant wild man.