8. Lauren
LAUREN
S he’d never been so exhausted and weak and afraid, even after being arrested for a crime she didn’t commit. Lauren still didn’t know how she managed to get the semi-conscious man up the hill to the cabin. Well, to the cleared area in front of the cabin. One knee gave out and she fell. Her thighs trembled and she planned to crawl inside. Except for…
When she turned back, she found Finn had managed to bandage his leg and clamber to his feet. She could only stare at him. Maybe his leg hadn’t been as badly injured as she’d thought? But no, that wasn’t possible. And wasn’t true, based on the blood seeping into the bandages wrapped around his calf. He looked unsteady and incredibly focused at the same time, marching into the cabin and saying something about getting the supplies.
Lauren knew better than to take her eyes off someone that injured when they were up and moving around. She remembered that much from when Mom and her various boyfriends were high or drunk or had just beaten each other into semi-consciousness. There was no calculating how much damage one impaired person could do to themselves—and everything around them—while unsupervised. She meant to tell him to sit down before he fell down, but Finn started laughing at something she said and abruptly passed out face-first into the mattress.
Which gave her another marvelous view of his tight, perfectly-formed ass. Unbelievable. He looked more like one of those Greek statues she’d seen in books before she left school than any regular man. Lauren shook her head and managed to roll him onto his side so he wouldn’t choke in case he vomited, then built up some of his clothes to support his damaged leg. She vaguely remembered something about needing to elevate injuries like that, though she could have misremembered entirely. She hesitated. Maybe she should leave him as he was…
Lauren covered him up with one of those flashy silver emergency blankets from his pack so he’d have some kind of warmth until she found a sleeping bag or more of his clothes. She spent the next hour dragging shit into the cabin, hauling in firewood, and struggling to keep her composure. She found a satellite phone, camera equipment, and small laptop in his bag, along with food and clothes and even a book. A history book, it looked like. Something to do with salt. Another sleeping bag and inflatable mat, neither of which looked used. Which was strange. He must have been out in the forest for some time, since he’d been coming the opposite way as the town, and his ridiculously bushy beard and wild hair spoke to no running water or razors for weeks. She didn’t remember there being many other towns or launch points in the other direction. What had he done at night if not sleep in his bag?
Maybe he found a den to curl up in. A bear wouldn’t need a sleeping bag.
She pushed the thought aside. Ridiculous. Completely absurd. Maybe he had a big, fluffy brown dog that followed him around and cuddled up to him at night. Maybe the dog had been protecting him while Finn was injured and trapped, and it ran away when Lauren approached. That had to be it. Of course. A large dog could definitely look like a bear, and it explained the growling she’d heard.
Once she’d brought everything inside, Lauren stood in the middle of the living room and looked around, at a loss for what to do. Finn remained unconscious and naked and injured, and his bandages had soaked all the way through with dark red. How could his leg still be bleeding? He had to need stitches or staples or whatever, or at least tighter bandages.
She steeled her courage. First thing first. Boil water. Find food to eat for both of them. Then figure out how to make more first aid supplies from the random bits and pieces that remained in the cabin. She hadn’t searched the back rooms thoroughly, and there was a shed out back that could contain any number of things.
Even though all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep, Lauren got to work. Build up the fire. Check the water supply. Boil some water. Put cans of chili and beans near the fire to heat up. Take stock of the rest of his first aid kit. Search for more in the cabin. Grab sheets from the wardrobe in the smaller bedroom. Wrap up in a few more layers as a chill worked through the cabin.
Her energy faded and she knew she couldn’t keep moving much longer. Every inch of her ached. She used her headlamp to study Finn’s leg. He hadn’t really stirred except when she draped a heavier blanket over him. He’d only opened his eyes and muttered something about keeping the rifle close. Then he passed out again.
She sighed and carefully cut the gross bandages off his leg, and turned away before she barfed all over the nasty hamburger in front of her. She didn’t know how to do stitches, but there was a massive orange box of first aid bits and pieces in the back room that at least gave her a handful of those butterfly closures.
She found a mask and a menthol antibiotic cream to dab under her nose so she didn’t smell the yucky bits, and took a deep breath before she sat down on the mattress next to him. Okay. She just needed to treat it like dissecting a frog in eighth grade. Gross but necessary. Infection would set in and turn deadly, and she’d definitely have to call for park rangers or paramedics.
She braced herself and dipped out the still-hot water she’d boiled to start the painstaking process of cleaning the blood away to really see what they had to deal with. Every new visible inch made it clear it was going to take an eternity.
SCENE brEAK
Lauren’s hands shook so much she had to take a break. When she checked her phone, she realized it had been over an hour spent cleaning out the wound with no end in sight, and about twelve hours since she’d eaten breakfast. Her vision blurred from staring into the nasty cuts, searching for pieces of bark and dirt and bone, maneuvering things out with the long tweezers from the medic case. She got up to stretch her back and legs, even though her thighs protested and every other muscle had seized in place from hunching over his leg for so long.
She scrubbed her hands again and retrieved the can of chili from the fire. She struggled to keep her eyes open as she gulped it down as quickly as possible without burning her mouth, but she knew she couldn’t sleep yet. When Lauren returned to his side, she found Finn’s face flushed and sweaty. Feverish.
Her heart sank. Oh man. She definitely couldn’t handle a fever and a torn-up leg. He really would need a hospital before an infection set in. Lauren squeezed her eyes shut and struggled for calm. She couldn’t abandon him, that was for damn sure, but that didn’t mean she had any idea of what to do next. She was a screw-up, a disaster. No matter what she decided to do, it would be the wrong thing. Stupid, ditzy Lauren. She’d heard it her whole life.
She sat on the edge of the mattress next to his shoulder, her back to him, and stared into the fire as it crackled and consumed what little firewood she’d managed to gather. Maybe feeding the drag-pole branches to the flames would be enough for warmth through the night. It wasn’t good for feverish people to be cold. Or was it? Did that help keep a fever down? How the hell would she survive the night without the fire?
Lauren took a shaky breath. And what if he died? It wasn’t like calling the police to take him away was an option. They’d find her, an accused arsonist and attempted murderer, and a dead body, and then she’d be charged with actual murder, too. Even if Finn looked like he’d been mauled by a bear. No one would believe her. No one ever believed her.
“Hey,” a rusty voice said, and something touched the small of her back.
Lauren jumped, her heart plummeting, and almost fell into the fire. She probably would have if Finn hadn’t caught a handful of her shirt and hauled her back. She fell back against his chest, terrified of hurting him, and froze. He grumbled but it didn’t sound pained. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to breathe normally. It probably wasn’t a good idea for the injured guy to find out that she’d been planning what to do in case he died. It didn’t show a lot of confidence in his recovery. “How do—how do you feel?”
“Terrible,” he said. Finn’s eyes were only half open but she saw gold through the dark lashes. His arm looped around her waist and kept her tight to his side. “Need water.”
“Of course,” she said. She leaned to stand up, but his arm only flexed like a massive, muscular seatbelt. Lauren laughed breathlessly, a little nervous to actually feel how strong he was, and patted his bare shoulder. “Gotta let me go, big guy.”
He grumbled again and adjusted his arm. His broad hand settled against her hip with a gentle squeeze. “You stay.”
“I need to get the water,” she said. Lauren’s heart tripped and stuttered. Holy crap he was strong. Her fingers didn’t even meet around his wrist as she tried to pry his hand away. “And you need to eat.”
“Better with you here.” He turned his head toward her, distressingly close to her ass, and sighed. “Much better.”
Lauren’s vision blurred in a surge of emotion. What the hell was going on? How could he possibly feel better with her around? And why did he feel strongly enough about it to try to embrace her with his leg half-cleaned and gory, feverish and flushed, and naked on a mattress in a shitty cabin? The knot in her throat stuck no matter how hard she swallowed. She slid her fingers through his wild hair, suddenly adrift and afraid but also…affectionate. “You don’t even know me.”
“I do,” he murmured. He made a face as he moved to his side, and slid his other arm around her as well. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Every inch of her went cold. He’d been looking for her? He was a bounty hunter? Her heart crashed to her feet and the cabin blurred around her. Obviously he was in that part of the forest for a reason, and it wasn’t to admire the wildlife or search for a Sasquatch. She pressed her hands to her face. Stupid Lauren. Yet again she’d screwed up. “How did you find me?”
“Luck.”
Of course. Her bad luck and his good luck. Well, if his good luck was getting caught in a bear trap, she didn’t want to be around when he ran into bad luck. She tried to wall her heart off. Just as well. She would make sure that his leg was as good as she could make it, then she’d leave the satellite phone near him to call for backup or whatever, and she’d get the hell out of there before he woke up again.
Where she’d go, she had no idea. She cleared her throat and hauled at his arms. “Let me go, Finn.”
He growled in annoyance but his hold loosened. She wriggled free and ignored how the firelight made him look like some kind of nude old timey painting. He had no right to be so good-looking and built and…perfect. She struggled to breathe evenly as she retrieved cool water to drink, and put the cup to his lips without getting quite close enough for him to catch again. His arm definitely moved like he meant to pull her close. But Lauren skirted the attempt and spent time on the other side of the cabin like a damn coward, hoping he would pass out again.
Instead, Finn pushed upright and shook himself like a wet dog. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes had returned to that smooth milk chocolate. Lauren gnawed on her lip as she struggled with how to answer. He had to be fishing for more evidence, some kind of admission. He’d already said he’d been looking for her. What more did he want her to say? “Nothing in particular.”
The light from her headlamp moved over his face and his eyes reflected it back to her like a cat’s. Lauren’s head tilted as she studied him. That was odd.
He squinted. “Come back, Lauren.”
“I have to get you water. And…and food,” she whispered, except the food was near the fire. She hoped he didn’t realize it. Maybe there were more pain killers in his first aid kit, and she could knock him out. Keep him unconscious until she knew what to do. It was a shitty thing to do, and probably dangerous, but her thoughts scattered and splintered until she didn’t even remember how to move her feet.
Finn flopped to his back, groaning, then gestured at the remains of his pack. “Protein bars. Just toss me a couple. Two bottles of water. The silver bag.”
Warily, Lauren collected the items he wanted and tossed them onto the mattress next to his left side. Finn studied her with his head tilted, curiosity sparking through him, and he wadded up the blanket covering him under his shoulders so he could watch as she sat near his injured leg again. At least he left the silver emergency blanket in place.
Finn ripped open a protein bar and devoured it in two bites. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll clean it up.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” she said. “And you might get an infection. I didn’t know how long you were going to be out so…” She shrugged.
He moderated his tone, his voice turning gentle and quiet. The very opposite of what he appeared to be. He didn’t try to touch her again, at least. “You did a great job. Thank you. And you helped get me out of that trap, even when you didn’t have to. I can’t say how much I appreciate it, Lauren. I owe you my life.”
Her cheeks heated and she shrugged again. “I’m sure anyone would have…”
“No,” he said. “Not everyone would have done what you did. You must be exhausted.”
She was. She really, really was. Not just from the intense physical exertion of that particular day, but from all the emotional and mental exhaustion that hung around her every day. Not knowing when someone would kick in the door to arrest her, not knowing when or if Ginger would bring her food or she’d have to venture into town to beg and steal, not knowing what she would do for the rest of her life. Her fragile control frayed still more. Her vision blurred and she struggled to swallow the knot in her throat.
Finn’s expression softened at whatever he saw in her face. He slowly reached for her hand, and Lauren didn’t pull away. She should have, maybe, since he was a bounty hunter and everything. And still really naked. But she was too tired to bolt to her feet again, even though she knew she should have and she needed to put more wood on the fire and get her sleeping bag out and figure out where she was going to sleep, since obviously she couldn’t…
“Hey,” Finn said. His thumb smoothed over the back of her hand. “Come back for a second.”
“What?” Lauren blinked as she looked at him, puzzled. She couldn’t see as much of his face with the wild beard, and she wondered what he looked like clean-shaven. Probably even more handsome, with her luck.
“You were thinking really hard about something and you went somewhere else,” he said. A hint of a smile crept into the lines around his eyes. “Stay with me for a second.”
She flushed and tried to turn her attention back to his leg. “I should finish this up. Then you can get some rest.”
“I’ll do it,” he said. Finn squeezed her wrist and smiled, a flash of white teeth in the dark beard, and sat up enough he could potentially reach his injuries. “I’ve stitched myself up before. I might need you to hand me a few things, but I don’t want you getting up and moving around so much.”
Her heart sank. No doubt he didn’t want to risk her making a break for it. Any second he would break out the handcuffs and shackle her to the stove or something. Lauren took a shaky breath and pulled away again. “I won’t argue.”
Again, he studied her like a curious puzzle, but didn’t push it. He didn’t threaten her, which was already miles better than any other man she’d been around in a while. That would come later, no doubt. She swallowed the knot in her throat. She just had to get through the night, then in the morning she’d hike to town. He’d be completely fine. He had his phone and all of his painkillers and plenty of food and clothes to stay warm. He could call in his bounty hunter friends and they’d carry him out of the forest. She struggled not to cry. She’d never felt so alone.