four

I clean and bind my leg while he sleeps. Then I’m waiting for him to wake again, and I have my eyes closed, resting. When he gasps, I bolt upright.

“Hold on,” I say. “You’re safe. Just let me get some light.”

I fumble to ignite my lantern. It hisses and casts a wavering glow over the shack. The injured guy is sitting. He sees me and gives a start.

“It’s okay,” I say. “You’re safe.”

“Where…?” He looks around and then squints at me. “Do I know…?”

“I brought you here. I found you, in a tree. Looks like you climbed up there to avoid the feral dogs.”

“Feral dogs?”

“Like feral pigs, but even more dangerous.” I smile, but he frowns, as if I’m talking nonsense. No feral dogs and pigs in his backyard, I’m betting.

He starts to push up, and I say, “Whoa, hold on. You’re—”

“Naked,” he says, looking down.

“I left your boxers on. I was going to say you hurt your leg. Best not to jump up.”

“Also…naked.”

“You had a fever.” I retrieve his clothing and hand it to him. He looks at me, and it takes me a moment to realize why.

“You want me to turn around?” I say. “Pretty sure I’ve seen whatever’s on display, being the one who undressed you.”

He says, “No, that’s fine,” but his expression is somewhere between bemusement and bafflement, as if he expects me to turn aside, blushing and stammering at the sight of a naked cute guy. And, yes, the word cute suggests I’m not oblivious. But it’s a cursory assessment, as neutral as noting he has a scar on his shoulder.

He pulls on his jeans. “So I was in a tree, escaping the, uh, feral dogs.”

“You don’t remember?”

“Nope. But it happens so often, they just blur together, you know? Another day, another feral-dog-escape.” A hint of a smile as he buttons his fly. “How’d you get me out of the tree?”

“Very carefully.”

“I bet. And then…ATV transport?”

“Stretcher.” When his brows rise, I say, “I fashioned a makeshift stretcher with our jackets and some branches.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles, and I feel that familiar sensation, the one I get when I venture beyond Reeve’s End. The feeling I’m being mocked. Mocked and judged.

“You don’t believe me?” I say.

“Well, you said I had a fever, and I’m thinking maybe I still do. Treed by feral dogs? Rescued by a pretty girl who handily fashions a stretcher, drags me here, and nurses me back to health? Clearly I’m still delirious. Or dreaming.”

“If you were dreaming, I’d be wearing a string bikini and holding a pitcher of beer.”

He chokes on a sudden laugh. “With the way my head is pounding, I think I’d better stick to water. And this isn’t really string-bikini weather.”

I move toward him. “I noticed you wincing when you laughed. Does your chest hurt?”

“Everything hurts.”

He stops putting on his shirt and lets me examine his ribs. As I do, he says, “So what is this place?”

“My hunting cabin.”

“Hunting?”

“Not many girls do that where you’re from?” I say.

“Some, sure. You just don’t look like a girl with a hunting cabin.”

I’m wearing worn blue jeans with a butt patch. Thick socks because my boots are two sizes too big—another bargain. Secondhand sweatshirt. Oversized denim jacket. No makeup. Chestnut hair ruthlessly braided back. If there’s a type of girl who hunts, I’m pretty sure I fit the bill.

He continues, “Of course, you don’t look like a girl who can haul my ass out of a tree, either.”

I shake my head and continue my examination, concluding he has some bruised ribs but none seem broken.

“It’s Lennon,” he says when I pass back his shirt.

“Hmmm?”

“I just realized I completely skipped proper introductions. My mother would be appalled. I’m Lennon.”

“I’m Winter,” I say. “Winter Crane.”

“Cool.” He makes a face. “Sorry. Unintentional joke. It is a cool name, though.”

“Thank you. I usually get ‘That’s kinda weird.’ ”

“Join the club. With me, it’s teachers who misread the roster and call me Lemon. Which is awesome.”

I chuckle and hand him the water cup, telling him to drink more.

He does and then says, “I also skipped the extreme gratitude part. Thank you, Winter Crane, for saving my life.”

“It isn’t saved yet. I’m going to run into Reeve’s End and—”

“Reeve’s End?”

“It’s the nearest town.”

“Yeah, I…” He sits straighter, wincing again. “I’m familiar with the area. We used to have a summer place near here.”

“Unfortunately, the local doctor is away. So is his wife, who’s the nurse. The only other person who works there is, well, me.”

“Which explains the excellent care I’ve received so far.”

“I’m just a high school student. Which means I need to get you to an actual doctor. It’ll just take some figuring out.”

“Do I really need a doctor? It’s just bumps and bruises.”

“You had a fever, but there’s no sign of infection, which suggests you were already sick.”

“Actually, the fever was from me trying not to get sick. I had a flu shot, and it made me a little feverish. I’m guessing the tree ordeal made it worse. I’m fine now.” He taps his forehead. “Feel.”

“The fever is gone because I gave you something for it. You need a proper examination.”

“If I get worse, sure, but right now, I’m just suffering the lingering effects of stupidity.”

I sit on my haunches. “What happened to you out there?”

“I’m still sorting that through. Brain’s a little fuzzy right now.”

“Then how do you know you did something stupid?”

A wry smile. “I could call it a gut feeling, but it’s more a matter of probability based on past experience.”

“You were assaulted. You need to speak to the police.”

“And tell them what? For all I know, I got the shit kicked out of me because I was a smart-ass to the wrong person. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“When you were delirious, you thought we were being held captive. You kept telling me to escape before he came back.”

A strained chuckle. “Well, my brother always said I watch too many cop shows.”

He’s full of shit. But there’s a steel thread of determination in his eyes. If I try to force his hand, he can just leave, and he’ll get into worse trouble, lumbering around in the wilderness.

“Can I call your parents?”

“No need to notify them. I’m eighteen.”

“I’m not talking about legal obligations. Someone should know where you are, even if you’re living on your own.”

That’s an opening for him to supply more. He only says, “My parents are out east on business this week. They aren’t expecting to hear from me. My mother will suspect something’s up if I call, and I’d rather skip the drama. Let me get back on my feet, and then I’ll check in.”

“But you should notify someone. What about your brother?”

“Hell, no. Mom might suspect something was up. My brother would know it the moment I said hello, and track me down.”

“He’s overprotective?”

He shrugs. “We’re tight. But he won’t freak if I don’t call for a few days.”

“So no police, no family, and no doctor.”

“Because I don’t need any of that until I remember what happened. If you can help take care of me, that’s enough. I’ll pay.” He takes out his wallet and then quickly adds, “Paying for your nursing services. That’s only fair.”

“So I take your money and keep my mouth shut. And if you die from some internal injury I missed, I can probably pawn your shoes and jacket, too, if I can clean the blood off them.”

He shoves his wallet back in his pocket, looking abashed. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Used to buying your way out of trouble?”

Another of those crooked smiles. “Yeah. It’s a family tradition. I’d have offered to pay even if you weren’t…you know.”

“From Reeve’s End?”

His cheeks color. “I’m digging this hole as fast as I can, aren’t I?”

“I come from a town where thirty percent live below the poverty line. I know my county’s rep, and it’s well deserved. If Doc Southcott was in town, I’d insist you get care, but as it stands, I’ll agree to drop it. With conditions. I’m going to check you over again. If I find a broken bone, I’ll get you to a doctor. If that leg needs stitching, I’ll get you to a doctor. If that leg shows signs of infection or your fever returns…?”

“You’ll get me to a doctor. I agree to your terms, Winter Crane.”

He extends his hand. I don’t take it. I’m annoyed by the position he’s put me in.

“Shirt and jeans off again,” I say.

He opens his mouth, his eyes glinting as if he’s going to crack a joke. Then he catches my expression and begins to undress.