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.