I open my eyes and see Olivia resting by my side. My mouth is dry, my shoulder feels like it’s been fed into a meat grinder, but I have a smile on my face.

Olivia. She looks like an angel sleeping beside me. My guardian angel, arriving in the form of a curse, ruining all my escape plans. Providing a better path than anything I could have come up with.

I reach around to my wounded shoulder with my good hand. She sure bandaged the hell out of me. I suppress a laugh. She was doing her best. She’d never sewn up a wound like that before, and she must have done the most important part right. Here I am, fever-free and blood flowing around inside my body where it belongs.

“You’re awake!” She bolts up, reaching around behind her for the clock. “You probably need—”

“I’m OK with the pain meds.” I reach out my hand to her cheek. She’s so soft and warm.

“Are you sure? I can’t believe I slept that hard.” She curses herself, giving her head a shake to fully wake up.

“I’m OK,” I reassure her as she finally meets my eyes. “Thanks to you.”

“I swear, I made sure you took the antibiotics and pain killers exactly when you were supposed to.”

“I can tell. That’s why I’m all right now.”

“You’re all right?” She softens, leaning into me. Her hand on my forehead feels so good I close my eyes. “You don’t feel hot!”

“I’m OK. You stitched me up right.” I try to rise up on my elbow but a shot of pain jolts through my bad shoulder. “We should change these bandages.”

“Right! Of course!” She’s up again, practically leaping off the bed and coming around to my side. “Should I have already?”

“Nope. Better to leave it be for the first couple days.”

“OK, I really didn’t know.”

“Olivia, you did great. More than great. You have no medical training. I barely gave you any guidance.” I wince as she starts pulling off the gauze, but let her do what needs to be done.

“How’s it supposed to look?” she asks, hesitant.

“Red is OK. Green or yellow is not.” I hold my breath, knowing we’re not out of the woods—literally or figuratively—yet.

“It’s really red.” Her voice brims with concern.

“That’s normal. How about oozing? Puss?”

“Not that I can see.”

I rise up, feeling like I’ve been frozen in a glacier for a thousand years. Everything aches, stiff from pain and lack of movement. In the bathroom light, I like what I see—from a combat perspective. I’ve seen wounds go bad and it isn’t pretty. The way Olivia’s stitched me up might leave a few scars, but it’s not infected. It’ll heal just fine.

“How does it look?” She’s hovering outside, nervous, her golden brown halo of hair cascading down. She’s wearing one of those T-shirts I bought her, hugging her delicious curves.

“Like I’m gonna be fine.” I help her re-dress the area, with a lot less gauze and tape this time, then wash up.

“You saved my life.” I stand outside the bathroom, bare-chested, wishing I were better with words. I’ve never been good with emotions, definitely not the kind I’m feeling right now. It’s been a while since I’ve had a woman fussing over me, caring for me. I can’t exactly remember the last time. Now that I have one, I feel strangely awed. I kidnapped her, but she still stayed to nurse me back to health.

“You could have left, you know.” I clear my throat, giving a nod out to where the truck is parked. “I told you where I keep the cash. You could have taken off on your own.”

“Don’t be silly.” She blushes and looks down at the floor. “Come on, you should lie down again. I made some soup. Do you think you can eat?”

On cue, my stomach rumbles.

“I had no idea you were going to be passed out for so long! Is that normal?” She walks with me back to the bed, talking fast, seeming self-conscious, wanting to change the subject away from her choice to stay. I’ll let her, for now. But I’m going to find a way to let her know how much her decision means to me. How much she means to me.

I explain that it’s normal after trauma and surgery to sleep, especially if you’re hopped up on morphine. She bustles over by the kitchen, warming up a pot of soup. It smells like heaven. I eat a bowl, then two. Chicken noodle, like something out of a movie.

“So it’s been quiet the past three days?” Obviously we’re still undiscovered. Had Rudy’s thugs found my cabin while I’d been passed out, Olivia would not still be here.

“So quiet.” She shudders. It’s been hard on her.

“Come here.” I pat the bed next to me and she sits there, still tentative and shy, as if she hasn’t fully adjusted to my waking up. Taking her hand in mine, I run my thumb over her palm, massaging it. “You’ve been through a lot these past few days.”

She laughs, disbelieving. “I think it’s you who’s been through a lot.”

“Sure, but I’m trained for this. You’re not.”

Her eyes fill with tears, her voice straining with emotion. “I’m so glad you’re all right. You had a fever and we got so much snow.”

“Shhh.” I pull her to me and she nestles into my side, careful to avoid my wounds. “Give me a day or two, I’ll be good as new.”

“I missed you,” she admits in a quiet voice. “I felt so alone.”

I pull her closer, the warmth of her body mingling with mine. “I’m not going away again.” I’m a man of my word. I keep my promises, and she seems to believe me. The limbs in her body finally relax into the sleep she sorely needs.