Jenny
I flitted through the kitchen, grateful that just that afternoon I had gotten groceries. It was almost as if fate had intervened and encouraged me to make sure I had everything I might possibly need in order to take care of this beautiful stranger that had wandered into my life. He was sleeping soundly, and I found myself relieved every time I checked on him and found that he was still breathing. His broad chest was rising and falling against the tight fabric of his button up shirt, and I would allow myself to gaze upon him as if the beauty of his body was a public gift.
I couldn’t get the image of him out of my mind, and I was starting to feel like a horrible person because of it. And yet, the image lingered there, and I had no choice but to try to reconcile it with myself. I had no idea that things would become so complicated upon laying eyes on this strange man, and yet, here he was. And we were in the situation that we were in, and there was no getting out of it now.
“I think you should wake up now,” I said softly, stepping into the room. I was cautious. I knew that, sometimes, it can be dangerous to wake a man. My father had been a volatile person in many ways, and waking him from sleep was just one of the ways I could invoke his wrath. “I made some food if you are hungry. You can come with me into the kitchen if you’d like.”
“What?” he asked, sitting up groggily. I watched him as he swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood, taking up an impressive amount of space in the room. It wasn’t a huge room, but he was quite broad and muscular, and it seemed that he was probably going to be taking up the space rather easily. I almost felt bad enough about it to offer him the master bedroom, but something stopped me.
“I’ve got food for you if you want it,” I said. “It’s in the kitchen. I thought it might help you start feeling better.”
He gave me a silent nod, and then frowned thoughtfully. “Where is your bathroom?”
I showed him the way, and then settled into the kitchen, dishing out plates for both of us and sitting down at the table with my heart tremoring in my chest. This was such a strange situation to find myself in. I was half tempted to call the police and see what they said about the situation. Undoubtedly, they would want me to take the man to the hospital, and possibly question him about what had happened. But that felt like it would be a betrayal to Oberon and I couldn’t allow myself to do it, no matter how much it seemed like it was in the greater good for me to do so.
He was in there for quite a while, and then finally emerged, his face looking more grim than I had ever seen it before. He sat down heavily at one of the chairs, and I frowned. “Are you all right?” I asked.
He smiled. “I was just trying to wash up a little. We always eat our meals as cleansed as possible.”
The sentence struck me strange, and he probably saw the quirk in my eyebrow, because he looked down at his food quickly and changed the subject. “This smells wonderful. What do you call it?”
My heart thudded. So he really did have some form of amnesia. “It’s pretty standard here. Cheeseburgers and some fries. It’s not anything fancy, I just cooked it up. I figured since I didn’t know you very well I would stick to something pretty standard in the American diet.”
“Oh, of course,” he said, his face tensing up as he stared at the food. He didn’t touch it, and I felt his golden eyes upon me as I began to dig into the plate, nervous to eat as he stared at me like this. It was almost as if he was waiting to see what I did and how I did it before he set to work doing it himself.
Finally, he picked up the burger hesitantly, and took a small nibble. He seemed to consider the taste for a moment, and then took a larger bite, nodding his head thoughtfully. He set the burger down on the plate and then looked over at me.
“This is pleasurable,” he said, clearing his throat and taking a deep drink of water. “Thank you.”
Next, he picked up a fry, examining it closely in front of his face. He reluctantly placed it in his mouth and chewed slowly, and then his face lit up and he took three more in his hand and shoved them in. Apparently, he liked the fries better.
“I’m glad you like it,” I said quietly. I tried not to let my confusion show on my face, as I debated whether or not I should turn this man into the authorities. He was clearly suffering somehow, neurologically. I didn’t think I was prepared for this type of situation. Sure, I could bandage him up all right, I had done so enough times for the animals on the farm, and even myself, but when it came to something like this amnesia, or other complications that could arise from whatever sort of attack he had been through, I was completely at a loss.
When we finished with the meal, I checked my watch and cursed. I had to tend to the cows for the night, and feed the chickens. I stood up and took my plate to the sink, washing it quickly. Oberon watched me intently the whole time, getting up as if to try and help. I ushered him backward, and he frowned, shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he watched me work.
“Please, stay inside. I have some chores to attend to for the night. Then, I will show you around the house. Maybe when you’re feeling better, I’ll show you around outside too.”
Oberon stared at me, his eyes hard, but he nodded. “I guess that would be all right. But if you need any help, please do not hesitate to ask.”
I opened my mouth to reply and then clamped shut quickly. This did not seem like the type of man who would abide by being treated as though he were weak. It was probably killing him to be stuck here and unable to fend for himself. I knew I wouldn’t like it, so I couldn’t imagine how little he was enjoying it.
I set to work, getting my animals fed and put away for the night, my mind unable to focus on the task at hand, as it wandered to Oberon again and again. How had he gotten here? What had happened to him? What was I going to do? It was impossible to figure out what events may have led him to this point, and even more difficult to wrap my head around my own reaction to this man.
I felt guilty, to be honest. I had lost my husband a few years back, and he was the first man I had ever loved. Well, I had loved him at first, but over the years, we had become more tolerant than deeply in love. He went off to do his own business in the late hours of the night, and I was left at home to care for the land and animals.
When he had died, I found out the hard way that he had been getting himself into a world of trouble in those long nights. Trouble unlike anything I knew was even possible in the small town in New Mexico where I lived. Leave it to him to find the only three assholes in the area that were connected to some serious criminal activity out in Nevada.
I had been receiving threatening letters in the mail for about two years, which, Isupposed was all right, considering they had given me a year of mourning before worrying me about my husband’s debt. It was a very hard year, and then, it only got worse.
At first, I didn’t understand what the letters meant. I took them to the police station, and there, they began to explain to me just what kind of trouble my husband had been getting himself into when I thought he was out with his friends, playing cards or something innocent like that.
Well, he had been playing cards at least a few times. But it wasn’t exactly innocent. He had lost a ton of money gambling, but he had also gotten himself tangled up in some other things. Illegal activities. Things like smuggling and dealing drugs. Somehow, he had been caught up in all the wrong things. And I hadn’t been any the wiser about it.
The police knew, at least, to a point. But it wasn’t until I presented them with the letters that the whole sordid history had been revealed to me. Apparently, they had kept the whole thing private, thinking that perhaps it wouldn’t affect me. They only wanted to get involved if it did. And now that it had, they were doing their best to accumulate the evidence they needed to bring those guys down.
But the process was infuriatingly slow. These men were masters of criminal activity. They knew exactly how to work on the wrong side of the law, and they flaunted it every chance that they got.
The worst part about it was that even though my husband had actually tried to work for them, they had ended up turning against him. They made him there still pigeon, and ultimately he failed at his task and lost them hundreds of thousands of dollars. It was more money than I had ever seen in my life. There was no way I would ever be able to pay it all back to them. And the letters are beginning to get more and more threatening.
I was beginning to suspect that my husband had actually been killed rather than dying in a car accident. But there was no way for me to really confirm my suspicions. If he was killed, wouldn’t that mean that his that his debt was erased? They would have gotten their revenge on him. Why would they go after me if they had already been able to settle the score?
I had far more questions than answers at this point. All I really knew was that I was majorly in debt. Not just to a gang of criminal masterminds, but to a horrifying number of banks and money-lending companies throughout New Mexico and the bordering states.
“Do you need any help?”
My body was electrified by Oberon’s voice, and I found myself startled by his presence in the doorway of the barn. He had no idea just how much help I needed at this point. It was pathetic, really. I was about to lose everything. The farm. The animals and whatever few precious belongings I had. Even my beater car could be taken away from me.
But what was most terrifying was the thought that I could lose my life to this. Over my husband’s terrible decisions. They were targeting me now, wanting me to make up for the money he had cost them. And I had no idea what to do. I hoped my eyes didn’t betray my need for safety and protection, and I laughed, trying to push my feelings away.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I thought I asked you to stay inside.”
“I got restless,” Oberon said, his golden eyes boring into mine. “I’m not used to having a lot of idle time.”
For some reason, this made my heart flutter and I looked away quickly, putting away the bucket I had been gripping and then turned to face Oberon.
“Okay, back into the house with you,” I said, ushering him out of the barn. “You have some healing to do.”