Alex (In the Company of Snipers) (11 page)

“I look like a pasty white zombie.” She watched him at his task, embarrassed and thankful—and then embarrassed all over again when his strong fingers stroked her sun-deprived calves.

“Nah. I wouldn’t say a zombie.” He smiled up at her from his kneeling position.

Her heart thudded like a crazy bass drum in the proverbial high school band. She blinked at those wells of blue mischief. Something passed between them she couldn’t quite interpret, and just like that, he moved quickly to kneel behind her on the porch.

“If you lift the back of your shirt, I’ll finish the job.”

Kelsey blushed as she pulled her shirt up, but it stuck. Her damaged skin had oozed and dried during the night.

“Ouch. Sorry. It’s kinda stuck,” she murmured, embarrassed she was so much trouble. “Never mind.”

“Take it easy. Let me get it.” He tugged gently until the shirt was free. “There, now let’s get you bandaged so this doesn’t happen again.” With careful long stokes, he spread the soothing ointment over her back and shoulders.

She closed her eyes and relaxed. The scrapes didn’t seem to hurt when he touched them like that.

He slathered more ointment along her spine and around her sides. Without thinking, she moved into the warmth of his hand. Abruptly, he stopped the tender massage and went into the cabin. Within seconds, he returned with the gauze. Very gently, he bandaged her back, taping the corners before he eased her shirt down.

“There.” His voice sounded odd, restrained somehow like maybe he didn’t care for her reaction. “I’ve got a spare shirt if you need one.”

“Thanks.” Kelsey turned to look at him, but he had already gone back inside the cabin. She noticed the distance between them. She finished her coffee, but he didn’t return to the porch. Instead, he refilled the indoor water tank, making one trip after another with the heavy bucket. She watched as he worked.
Who are you, Alex Stewart?

After the water tank was filled, he pulled a battered aluminum ladder from underneath the cabin and a bundle of wooden shingles. When Kelsey took her dishes inside, she noticed a black men’s T-shirt folded on the counter.
I’m certainly wearing a lot of his clothes.

She changed quickly, setting her pink shirt in the sink to soak. Putting his shirt on only added to her confusion. It was clean and folded, but it still smelled of him. She held the front collar to her nose and breathed it in. She shivered. Yes. She liked it very much.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Her headache faded, and with it, the flashing lights that had plagued her vision. Kelsey washed her cut-offs and hung them over the porch rail to dry. The blouse she had worn when she first arrived was damaged beyond repair, so she tore it into strips and used one of those strips for a hair tie.

Alex kept busy with roof repairs. He was up on the ladder most of the afternoon, so with two big dogs for company, she explored the camp and the creek. It was a very peaceful setting. She spent the afternoon picking a pan full of plump blackberries from an overgrown bush behind the cabin. Fortunately, there was a bag of pancake mix in the kitchen cabinet, so she improvised and baked a Dutch oven cobbler over the embers in the fire pit. It wasn’t much, but it felt good contributing something for a change.

When he came off the roof, she served him a heaping bowl of the sizzling treat, and then she waited. He had been so quiet all day, preoccupied and remote. She half expected him to tell her that he had work to do; he didn’t have time for such nonsense. He didn’t. Instead he blinked at the piping hot dessert like he had never seen blackberry cobbler before in his life.

“You made this?” he asked, his voice tight.

She held her breath, wondering why on earth this simple homemade treat felt like she had committed a sin all of a sudden. It was just—dessert. Irrational fear clutched her throat. She wanted to run, the suspense more than she could stand.
What if he doesn’t like blackberries? What if he blames me for using his supplies? What if—

“Thanks.” He turned to her with an unrecognizable shadow in his eye. “You’re very thoughtful.”

And just like that, her fear evaporated. It wasn’t a shadow in his eye. It was gratitude. The cobbler was a good idea after all. She blurted out her confession anyway, not exactly sure why she always thought she had to apologize. “I used some of your dried milk and pancake mix.”

He pulled the only chair in the place to the table and sat down, took a forkful of the syrupy, berry-filled cake, and then another. She brought him a glass of water to wash it down, pleased with herself for the first time in—heck, she didn’t know how long. The important thing was he liked it. She could tell. He closed his eyes like he was savoring every last morsel.

Alex paused, his fork suspended between his mouth and the second helping of dessert. He gave her a look she couldn’t decipher. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“Yes, I did.” Cheerfully, she squeezed his shoulder, her fingers lingering on the flannel. He felt warm from the sun, his muscles strong and hard. It was a small gesture, just a simple thing any friend would do, but it was the first time she had touched him like that.

He looked up at her. Loneliness flitted like a shadow across his face. Realization dawned. He was just as lost as she was.

“I’m glad you like it,” she whispered, unsure which she meant, the cobbler or her hand on his shoulder.

“Join me?” he invited.

“I would love to.”

She grabbed the other chipped bowl, and together they enjoyed their first dessert together.

Alex

He took extra care replacing the few missing cedar shakes from the cabin roof, but who was he kidding? He was on the roof because it gave him a bird’s eye view of her without being seen. Doctoring Kelsey this morning had taken on a whole new dimension. One look into her trusting eyes and he knew he had better put some distance between them. The warmth of her skin had changed his idea of medical attention to attention of a different kind. He didn’t want to just smooth ointment on her legs and back anymore. Even scabbed and torn, her skin had glowed under his touch, and he liked it, but too many feelings begged for release. He just was not going down that road again. One true love in his life was enough, and two divorces more than plenty. No more heartache. Not now. Not ever.

So he buried himself in the remedy that had served him in times past, work and distance, all the while keeping careful track as Kelsey wandered below with his dogs at her heels. She picked blackberries, another pleasing sight. After the first few handfuls in her pan disappeared thanks to Whisper’s lip-smacking company, she had to carry the pan everywhere she went.

She never grumbled at the big mutt though, even when he had munched all the low hanging fruit, leaving only the hardest to reach berries for her. In fact, she talked to him like he was a little boy and understood. She hummed some jingle Alex couldn’t place. It didn’t matter. Anything that rolled off her lips sounded good. Even from the rooftop, she was pleasant company.

A couple days of sleep, food, and rest had an astounding impact on her. In just one day his watchfulness had changed from worry about her health to watching her for an entirely different reason. Scarred, bruised or not, a beautiful woman was emerging from the battered husk he had found on his porch, and it wasn’t just physical. Kelsey had a way about her that invited everything in, him and his dogs included, like she already loved the world and everyone in it.

He growled to himself at the thing that was happening. He was losing his mind, heart, and soul to her. He could feel it. So he fixed the rickety roof on his rickety cabin like he had nothing better to do, and he watched the most beautiful woman in the world dance with Whisper and Smoke.

Seven

Alex

“Looks like you’ve had a good day.”

Alex kept his head down. He had to. It was either that or act like a fool again, and he had done enough of that. He forced himself to concentrate on the wood in his hands instead of staring at Kelsey. His knife glinted in the firelight as notch after notch of the soft pine dropped to the ground between his boots. He had a plan for this piece of wood. He hoped.

“I actually contributed something today, huh?” she teased.

He ignored her cheerful jab. “So, how’s your head? You remember anything yet?”

Kelsey’s fingers combed through her long hair, pulling it over the left side of her head, still trying to hide the bruised part of her face. “Once in a while I get the oddest feelings, but that’s all.”

Alex blew on his carving, sending a small cloud of dust and shavings into the air. “Amnesia’s a tricky thing.”

“It’s like being in limbo,” she muttered as she watched from her perch on the other side of the fire pit.

Alex noticed both dogs lay near Kelsey with Whisper bumped up against the log she sat on, his velvet fur dusty with wood shavings and dirt. His dogs had already succumbed to her charms. He was next. The chunk of wood in his hand proved it.

“I’d really like to remember my children. It’s like they’re right here in my head, but I can’t quite reach them. Do you think they’re safe? I mean, if I do have children, why am I out here without them?”

He heard the plaintive tone in Kelsey’s question. Deep within her mother’s heart, she knew something was wrong, and yet she didn’t know anything at all. Once again he deliberated telling her everything he knew. Maybe it was time. His heart thudded. Maybe not. Maybe tomorrow ….

She had stopped playing with her hair and scratched Whisper’s belly while she talked. He gave a lazy growl of thanks in return. Alex bit his lower lip watching her hands moved easily over the big mutt’s body, pausing to scratch his ears, her fingers moving comfortably through his fur and ending up scratching his belly again. Of all the stupid things, he envied his dog.

He blew out a slow breath. She wasn’t the weak one here. She wasn’t the coward either. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. Maybe it was time. She deserved to know everything he knew. Maybe one piece of information would spark a memory, and everything would all come back to her. And that’s why he hadn’t had the heart to tell her anything.
How do I do to her what was done to me? How do I take everything from her? Right now she’s happy. It’s a lie, but she’s happy. How do I tear her world apart? How do I tell her the truth?

He blew out a deep sigh. The time had come. There was no choice. It had to be done.

“I can fill in a couple of those blank spots if you’d like,” he offered.

“You can?” She traded her log across the way for a log closer to him, her eyes bright in the fire’s glow.

The minute she moved, he nicked his thumb. He grimaced, hoping she hadn’t seen the effect she had on him. His heart pumped hard, like some high school jock. He forced his eyes back to the work at hand, his head full of conflicting emotions.

“Well, let’s take it slow. Why do you think you’re so far from town?” He hesitated. This was hard.

Kelsey looked at her torn fingernails. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. I mean, look at me. It’s not like I don’t know someone beat me up. Someone must really hate me.”

She genuinely did not understand how close she had come to death.

“I’m not trying to scare you. You’re safe here with the dogs and me, but someone did hurt you.”

“What else do you know?” She edged closer, her eyes full of questions. “Have you been keeping something from me?

Bull’s-eye. His heart leapt in his throat, and he nicked his thumb again. This time he wiped the blood on his pant leg because the knife went deep. She had just read him like a book. “I don’t want to scare you, but yes. I had my team back east do some checking around.”

“And?”

“And your name is Kelsey Durrant. You’re married to a man named Nick Durrant.” He waited to see if anything registered. There was no sense dumping everything on her all at once.

“Kelsey Durrant?” she asked. “My last name’s Durrant? Hmm. And I’m married to Nick Durrant? Do you know what he looks like? Is he nice? Is he ….” She paused as the reality of this new puzzle piece dawned on her. “Did he, I mean, is he the one who ….”

Alex watched the light in her eyes fade as she fingered the corner of her recently opened black eye. She shivered.

“Did he do this to me?”

“Yes. I believe he did.”

She clutched her arms like a little girl needing a sweater. “Okay, so what else?”

He hesitated knocking any more dominoes of information down on top of her. “Your sister reported you missing ten days ago. That timeline matches most of your injuries. I’m still not sure how you got your black eye though. That and your cut lip seem more recent.”

“I’ve been missing ten days?” She looked surprised. “That’s a long time.”

Again he waited as she processed that single fact.

“But I’ve only been here two days. Right?”

“That’s right. You were here the afternoon I got in, the day before yesterday.”

“So where have I been? Where was I before I got here?”

“I don’t know. You were pretty out of it when I found you,” he said gently. “I thought I’d found a dead body.”

The bleakness in her eyes chilled him.

“But what did I eat? That’s a long time to go without food or water.”

“I don’t think you did eat. That’s why you were in such rough condition that first night. You probably stumbled across a creek or something along the way and found some water to drink. There are plenty of bogs and marshes in this part of the forest. That’s the only reason you made it as far as you did.”

She glanced toward the creek. “I’m pretty lucky that you showed up.”

He nodded. The enormity of her situation still astounded him.
No, I’m the lucky one.

“You said my sister reported me?”

“Yes.”

“What’s her name?”

“Louise Timpson.”

Kelsey looked at him for a full minute before she spoke. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“None of this sounds familiar, does it?” He didn’t think it would.

“No.”

Her lip trembled, and he was done talking. This conversation was going nowhere fast, and he couldn’t bear to hurt her anymore. The rest of it could wait.

“Why can’t I remember?”

He stilled, the anguish in her question the last thing he needed to hear.

“What else do you know?” She wiped a tear out of her eye and once more moved closer. She needed comfort, and he wanted to give it, but he had nothing good to offer.

“Come on,” she insisted. “Just because I can’t remember anything right now doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know who I used to be, does it? Maybe if you tell me, it’ll come back. It could, couldn’t it?”

He sighed as his knife dug deeper into the notched wood in his hand. “You lived in an apartment in Lakewood. You used to be a schoolteacher, and you’ve been to the emergency room a lot.”

“Why? What’s wrong with me? Am I sick? Am I dying?”

“No, you’re not sick.” He glanced at her, hoping that simple answer would suffice, but then he couldn’t look away. He saw it in her eyes. She trusted him to help her again. The only problem was this wasn’t just ointment and band-aids he had to offer. This was heartbreak.

“You’ve had quite a few broken bones and spiral fractures over the past few years,” he said somberly. “Do you understand what a spiral fracture is?”

“No.”

He faltered. If he were smart, he would distance himself right this very minute and be done with her. Too bad he never was that kind of smart.

“Come here. I’ll show you.”

Kelsey moved beside him. He took hold of her right forearm, instantly reminded how delicate she was, and how warm.

“A spiral fracture occurs if your arm is twisted like this.” He took hold of her wrist and elbow and barely twisted his hands in opposite directions. “The twisting motion causes too much torque. The bone fractures because both ends are turning in different directions, but it’s not a clean break. Your arm’s been broken like this a couple times.” He rubbed his fingers along the length of her forearm. He might have been trailing a path of sparks. The energy off this woman amazed him. Did she feel it, too? He couldn’t tell, but neither could he breathe.

“Feel this spot right here.”

She pressed her fingers where he had traced. “I feel it. It’s a bump.”

“Yes. It’s where your bone was broken, and then twisted again before it had a chance to heal.” He released her arm before he made a fool of himself and pulled her onto his lap again. She already sat too close. The misery in her eyes compelled him to care more than he knew he should. She was damaged goods, another man’s wife. He had no business thinking about her, much less caring for her the way he did. Even though every male instinct urged him to keep her safe, he couldn’t. She wasn’t his to protect—or keep.

“Your husband’s out of work most of the time. He’s got a police record,” he muttered.

“For hurting me?” she asked timidly.

“He should be shot for hurting you!” The words blurted out of his big mouth before he had time to think. He stifled his emotions. “No. His record’s just petty thievery, shooting dogs, and other stuff the police actually caught him doing.”

“You mean they haven’t actually caught him hurting me?”

Alex bit his lip. Her husband’s police record was the last thing she needed to worry about. He bowed his head to the work in his hand again, mentally cursing himself for leading her down this ugly path that was her life. Wood shavings flicked out of his hand with every twist of the knife. He didn’t stop carving until he felt her hand on his arm.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, well ….” Particles of pine dropped steadily to the ground.

“Is that why you take off every morning? Are you looking for him?”

He let out a big sigh. “Your husband’s still hunting for you.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen him. He hasn’t come close to the cabin yet, but he’s packing a rifle. We need to get you back to town.”

She glanced sideways into the dark forest, her voice small and quiet. “Am I right? Do I have children?”

“Two boys,” he whispered.

“How long have you known?”

“Since the morning after you got here.”

“But you didn’t tell me?”

“No.” Alex shook his head. “You were so beat up, and I, I couldn’t.”