Escaping Memories Read online

  She started to shake from the multitude of scenarios running through her mind when the cabin door opened to her relief. She peeked over at him, an armload of wood dangling in his embrace, and a sweet smile sent her way. "Miss me?"

  "If I said yes, would it go to your head?" she asked, coyly. Where that came from she wasn't sure, but seeing his gorgeous smile had it popping out of her mouth without thought.

  "Depends. If it's because you were worried and scared...no, I'd just feel bad. If it's because you were dying to see my handsome face again...then maybe, yes," he replied truthfully. He walked further into the living room, wondering why he uttered such a dumb question.

  He walked over to the fireplace, setting the wood down in the wood box, and turned towards her with his lip-curling smile. "Well, honey. You didn't answer my question." Because now his curiosity needed to know.

  She rested her head further into the pillow, enjoying the way his eyes held hers. "Maybe a little of both."

  "Well, then I suppose I'll let it go to my head a little," he said, curling his lip up a little more.

  A smile lit up her eyes when he said that, making him feel a little better inside for being so callous with his words. He shouldn't tease her as he did. Yet, when he thought over the course of their tumultuous night, she had teased right back with him on several occasions already. Sometimes facing a mountain of terror, all you can do is find a little humor.

  He went back to building a fire and tried to get her fear, her bruised body, and her horrifying cries out of his mind. Instead, he tried thinking of her fierceness, her strength, and her gentle beauty. She had thought she wasn't beautiful. Probably feeling that way with the dirt, scratches, and everything else covering her body. But he hadn't lied. Beauty wasn't just in the face or the perfect features, although after cleaning her up, he saw those features just fine. Her hair was still a bit knotted, thinking he should find her a comb, but he enjoyed the way the light hit it, giving it a golden glow. It fell just to her shoulders, maybe even longer once it was fully combed. She had a small nose, even covered with a long scratch over the side, it appeared dainty and cute. Small, defined lips that every time punctured a small smile, made him want to press a tender kiss in thanks.

  He knew once she fully healed, she would be a knockout beauty that turned heads with ease. But her real beauty he enjoyed was her undeniable strength. She fought him when he first staggered into her, and she pleaded with him to make no calls. Both strengths in his eyes. It wasn't easy reaching out to a person, telling a complete stranger you're scared. She had to be going out of her mind not remembering a damn thing about herself. Yeah, she was tough...and that was beautiful as hell to him.

  He breathed a heavy sigh as he stoked the fire a bit, seeing the flames wouldn't die down. He now struggled with his next task. He ached to get started on finding whoever did this to her, yet she wouldn't let him. He didn't need to help her anymore tonight. Clean, treated, and fed. What did he do now to help her? He turned around, still wondering what to say, when he smiled in defeat. Well, there was his answer. She had fallen asleep on him.

  He stood up, walking quietly over to her, and pulled the blankets just a little higher over her body. She shifted slightly at the contact, but her eyes remained closed. He saw the plate of food on the floor, disappointed to see she hadn't eaten all of it. She was skin and bones, giving him a clear idea she had been held a while. Her stomach probably couldn't handle much right now. Baby steps, he told himself as he walked to the kitchen.

  He had noticed the bloody footprints littered around the front door towards the bathroom when he ran out of the bathroom to grab her some clothes. She definitely stumbled inside as the footprints crisscrossed in a jagged line. He threw away the rest of her food, cleaned the plate, and started to clean the floor. After completing that task, he grabbed her ragged dress, throwing it into a bag as evidence, cringing inside at his idiocy. He really should have called the doctor and Derek right away. He could have washed away evidence when he gave her a bath like that. No use worrying about it now, he figured, as he cleaned the bathroom up as well.

  When he was through picking up the cabin of any mess, he checked on his mysterious guest. She was still sleeping peacefully and looking painfully delicate. He suddenly had the strong urge to wrap her up in his arms and soak up all her pain. What he wouldn't do to take all that pain away?

  He hated to move her, the thought of her waking up at the jarring movement a distressing notion. He also didn't want her to wake up and him not in the room. He saw the fear in her eyes when he stepped outside, and each time he did out of the bathroom. It had immediately melted away when he stepped back into her view. He didn't know what that meant. He refused to dwell on the matter. Instead, he grabbed another pillow, some blankets, and made a small bed on the floor next to the couch. Before long, he was sleeping just like her.

  He had no idea the time, but he knew it was still dark out when a piercing scream pelted his ears. He jerked upright to see her thrashing on the couch, crying, "Please, stop! Let me go! No, no, no!"

  Before he could crawl over to the couch and quiet her down, she tumbled onto the floor next to him. He thought it would have awakened her, but it only increased her cries, "Don't hit me! Please, let me go!"

  He grabbed her by the shoulders, a fist coming towards his face with him barely missing the connection. "Hey, honey, shh. It's alright, it's Logan. Come back to me."

  She continued to fight in his arms, screaming terrifying words, and flailing everywhere. He finally had no choice but to roll over on top of her and pin her down gently. "Sweetheart, hear my voice. It's Logan. I won't hurt you. Please, stop. Wake up."

  Her screaming stopped, but he still felt her struggle a bit. "That's right, honey. Don't fight me. It's Logan. You're safe. I won't hurt you."

  Her struggling turned into jerky movements as she started lightly crying. "Logan. Oh, God, Logan," she whispered as she instantly wrapped her arms around him when she registered it was him lying on top of her.

  He pulled her closer, rolling to his back as he brought her body with him. "Shh, it's okay. You're safe."

  "Don't let him find me, Logan," she whispered in a strangled breath.

  "Who, honey, tell me?" Logan whispered back, as he hugged her tighter to him.

  "I don't know."

  Before he could stop it, a chuckle escaped his mouth.

  "You find that humorous," she said softly, yet no anger lacing within the words.

  "No, I don't. It's just you say it in this...voice that...I don't know why I laughed. What do you remember? The things you were screaming...they weren't pretty."

  "I don't...it was dark. A very small room with no windows. I saw chains on my wrists and he was hitting me...saying something."

  "What did he say?" he asked coaxingly.

  "I couldn't make it out. My mind only registered the pain."

  "Can you describe what he looks like? His voice, even if you can't remember the words?"

  "No. It wasn't a clear picture. I don't want that memory. Take it away, Logan," she cried as she buried her head into his chest.

  He squeezed her tighter, feeling her intake of breath, realizing he was hurting her by doing that. He relaxed his grip a little and started to rub her back soothingly. "I'm sorry, honey, that you ever had to endure that. I'm sorry that you had the memory. And I'm sorry if I just hurt you. If I could take all the pain away, I would."

  She continued to lightly cry into his chest as he rubbed her back softly, whispering encouraging words into her ears. Before long, her tears morphed into silence. Tiny breaths left her mouth as she finally fell into a peaceful sleep. He kissed the top of her head and tried to fall back to sleep with the beautiful angel in his arms.

  ***

  She awoke to the wonderful aroma of bacon. She opened her eyes to see herself lying on the floor and the sudden recollection of falling down into his arms from a horrible nightmare—no, a memory. Embarrassment from her actions made her shiver fro
m head to toe and what he might think of her. Panic immobilized her, fearing that he would hear that she was awake.

  A sweet humming sound pricked her worried mind, letting his calming tune relax her enough to turn towards the kitchen. The couch was in the way, making it impossible to see him. She suddenly wished she were lying on the couch so she could enjoy his fluid movements as he shifted around the kitchen in his charming, proficient way. His humming stopped, making her sigh from the loss and gently closed her eyes to hear it again in her mind.

  "I heard the heavy sigh. How bad are you hurting?"

  Her eyes flew open to see him take a seat next to her. "That isn't why I sighed. Although, my body is aching."

  "Then why'd you sigh? How can I help?"

  "Such the helper, Sheriff. Do you ever stop wanting to help?"

  "Do you always avoid a question?"

  "I don't know," she replied, a slow grin creeping up as she said it.

  "I just bet you don't," he said with a delightful grin back. "And it's Logan, not Sheriff. And yes, I never stop helping. Are you hungry? Breakfast is almost ready. Then I figured we should slather a bit more salve on those wounds."

  "Okay."

  "Just okay. To what specifically?"

  "To it all. Breakfast smells...divine, once again."

  "Well, I certainly hope your belly can handle more than last night. You need food," he said, standing up.

  "Are you calling me skinny?"

  "You're below skinny. You need to eat. Don't make me worry any more than I am," he said, walking away without another word.

  She heard the worry in his tone, but no soothing words entered her mind. She could only eat until her stomach protested.

  "And I'm bringing the food to you, so don't get up. If you need help sitting as well, just give me a minute here, honey. I'll be there in a jiffy."

  She decided she didn't need help, or at least wanted to see if she didn't, and tried sitting up. Aches and pains everywhere screamed in protest. Not one spot stayed silent. But she managed to sit up on her own, making a small amount of joy fill some of those aching spots. She scooted back towards the couch, heaving a sigh of relief when her back hit resistance.

  Logan walked into the living room with two plates.

  "Do you want to eat on the couch? Would that be more comfortable?" he asked.

  "This is fine. You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

  He carefully took a seat next to her, holding both plates. As soon as he positioned himself just right, he handed her a plate. "Sure I do. You need food. I need food. No big deal to make a little extra. How bad do you hurt?"

  She picked up the fork, moving the eggs around a bit. "I managed to sit up by myself."

  He glanced at her. "Well, considering that didn't answer my question, I'm going to say you're avoiding the answer again."

  "I hurt. Everywhere. But I managed to sit up by myself. I feel good about that."

  "Okay, that's better. Best thing for you today is rest. Lots and lots of rest. Let your body heal. I'll stop talking now because I really want you to eat," he said, noting the fact she still hadn't taken a bite. She just kept moving the food around her plate with the fork.

  She nodded and grabbed a small scoop of eggs. He smiled in delight when he saw what he considered, pure bliss, cross over her face. He made no comment on the fact as they both ate breakfast in a comfortable silence. He managed to clear his plate in record time, anxious to get the day started. A quick glance at her plate showed only a quarter of the food missing. He could see her slowly dwindling down the effort to eat much more.

  "Don't you like it?" he asked, concerned.

  "You're a wonderful cook, Logan. My stomach just, after a few bites, protests. Tells me it's full."

  "I hear you, honey. But you have to eat. You don't look like you've had a decent meal in a long time. You have to get back in the habit of it. Give me a few more bites. Please."

  "Only because you said please," she said, taking another small bite.

  He watched in silence as she took five more tiny bites of food before she finally set the fork down. "You did good. Thank you."

  "No, thank you for the lovely breakfast, Logan."

  He grabbed her plate, stood up, and walked back to the kitchen. He set the plates down, grabbed the salve he already snatched from the bathroom, and walked back over to her.

  "So you hurt everywhere. Hurts so bad you need my help, or you can manage today?" he asked, sitting back down next to her.

  She turned her soulful eyes to him, seeing the concern and compassion. "I managed to sit up by myself..."

  "So you've said several times. Then I guess you don't need my help," he said, holding out the container in front of her.

  "I think I need to use the bathroom. Can you help me there? I'll try putting the salve on in there," she said, grabbing the container.

  "Of course. I should've asked right away if you needed to use the bathroom." He stood up, scooped her into his arms with ease, and carried her to the bathroom. She was starting to feel really good in his arms. He almost felt thankful she didn't need his help putting the salve on. Almost.

  He gently placed her on the toilet, the lid still down, and backed up. "Take your time. Holler for me when you're done and I'll bring you back to the couch. You really should try to stay off your feet until they are healed a little bit better."

  "Thanks."

  She waited until he stepped out of the bathroom before she started the painful process of standing up and pulling her pants down. She quickly took care of business, stood back up, and awkwardly hobbled to the sink where she washed her hands. Her feet really did pain her to stand on them. It felt like she was standing on a pit of hot coals. But for the life of her, she couldn't manage to pull her face away from the mirror. She could only stand there staring. Who was she? Why couldn't she remember? No recollection whatsoever came to her as she traced the outline of her face. Nothing. No memory, no strange feeling, no intuition of who she was. It made her want to cry.

  She jumped in her spot, grimacing at the pain of doing so, when a soft knock sounded on the door. "You okay in there, honey? You haven't hollered out and I was getting worried," Logan said, on the other side of the door.

  She had no idea how long she had been standing there, but suddenly the numbing feeling in her feet almost made her fall. She grabbed the counter for support. "Fine. Just fine, Logan. I'll be done soon."

  "Okay. Just holler," he said.

  She quickly lowered the toilet lid, sat down, and began the slow process of putting on the salve on as many spots as she could reach. When she covered most areas, she set the container on her lap with a heavy sigh. If she hadn't hurt before, she certainly did now with all the movements she had made. She took a deep breath, hollered for Logan, and waited less than five seconds before he opened the door and stepped inside. It almost made her laugh, thinking he had been waiting right outside the door.

  "How'd you do?" he asked, as he held out his hand for the salve.

  "Well...I got most spots. I can't do my back. It hurts to stretch like that. And it sort of hurts to bend towards my feet as well."

  "I got you covered." He took the salve with a gentle smile mingling on his concerned face, and knelt down in front of her. He applied the salve on both feet, noticing the deep redness plastered all over. "Your feet look a little concerning to me. I don't like how red they are."

  "Maybe I stood too long," she said softly.

  "Maybe..." he replied, suddenly thinking that's why so much time went by. He stood up. "Can you turn a little?"

  She turned sideways on the toilet and shivered as he raised her shirt up. Before he could ask, she grabbed her shirt that had bunched near her shoulders to hold for him while he applied the medicine on her back. A few minutes later, he grabbed the shirt from her hold and gently lowered it back down.

  He put the salve back in the medicine cabinet, shutting the door with an audible click. The sound made her jump, her mind st
ill imagining his soft hands on her body. She wanted them back on her. Without any warning, he scooped her into his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. "You're as light as a feather. Promise me you will at least eat half of the meal for lunch."

  She wanted to sigh with contentment. She leaned her head against his chest as he walked her back to the living room. "I'll try."

  He set her down, grabbed the pillow and blanket from the floor, and helped her get comfortable on the couch. "Be right back."

  He left the room, and not a minute later, came back with a pair of socks. "Let's cover those feet up. I want them to heal. I don't want the salve to come off in case they rub against the blanket or something."

  "I shouldn't have stood so long. It hurt so bad. I don't know what I was thinking," she said, watching as he carefully put the socks on her feet.

  "Why were you standing so long? What were you doing?"

  "Staring. Who am I? I don't even recognize myself in the mirror."

  He saw the tears build up in the corners of her eyes. The torture and sadness he heard in her voice made him want to cry a little himself. He suddenly wanted to wrap her up in his warm embrace. This just wasn't right.

  "We'll figure it out. I promise."

  "How can you sound so sure?"

  "Because any other option is unacceptable. And since we're on this subject...I'm going to call my deputies now."

  "Please, Logan..."

  He saw out of the corner of his eye her hands start to shake. He knelt down by her, gently grabbing one of her hands, and started softly rubbing his thumb against her silky skin. "We talked about this last night. I'm calling and you can't stop me. I know you're scared, but you don't have to be. I'll even stay in the cabin while I make the calls I need to make. We need to find out who did this. I need to find out."