Chapter 3
Chapter Three
LEDGER
T he petite feminine form in the road draws the breath from my chest and makes my throat thick and tight. Scanning the area around her, I don’t see any cars. Where did she come from? My brain taunts me, revisiting the earlier conversation with Chuck. She dropped from the sky… I frown. Whatever.
The woman wears an olive drab and rose pink-lined Columbia jacket with brown and gray fur trimming the hood, a pair of black ski pants, and a pair of gray, fur-trimmed Sorel snow boots that stop two inches below her knees.
Her silky, curly brown locks reach to her middle back, whipping around thanks to her frantic movements and the wild gusts from the blizzard. Once I reach her, stopping carefully and rolling down my window, the sight of her face socks me hard in the chest and the gut.
My eyes meet hers like a physical collision, a sharp exhale escaping my lips. I notice with unexpected satisfaction the puff of air that leaves her mouth, too. The feeling is akin to static electricity, shocking my hand as I touch a doorknob after walking over thick carpet. Only soul-shaking and visceral.
Her brows jump in her forehead, and her eyes round. She feels it, too. And it isn’t just her getting a load of my bad side. Habit has made me scrupulous about how to hold my head to spare people that visual. But I can’t hide in plain sight like this forever, which makes whatever alchemical reaction going on between us a problem. A big, big problem.
Nevertheless, I absorb her impossible beauty, instantly breathless and stunned that someone like her exists. Suddenly, my experience on this planet feels worthwhile, though I know she can never be mine. Still, sharing the same air space is something—a pretty impressive something that will stick with me for a long time.
I can’t help myself, smiling like an idiot as my eyes glide down her oval, symmetrical face. They dance over her sassy, slightly upturned nose and settle on her full, rich, rose-colored lips.
Did I say static electricity before? No, this is lightning, and I’ll never be the same.
“Thank God!” she exclaims, her face beaming, and I’m about to be a believer if things keep up this way. At a bare minimum, I’m staring at an angel…a glowing one with an ear-to-ear grin and a full set of pearl-white teeth. “You are the most beautiful sight I’ve seen all day!” She exclaims enthusiastically.
And it’s confirmed… I’m having a heart attack…and a near-death experience all rolled into one because those words from those lips in that silky voice. It’s too much… Clouds could part and trumpets sound, and it wouldn’t impress me as much as devouring this woman’s face with my eyes. Before I can get a hold of myself, I reply breathlessly, “And you’re the most beautiful sight I’ve seen…maybe ever.”
Her grin widens, if that’s possible, and I feel like time is frozen. But it can’t be because a storm pounds around us, and the wind howls. The cab of my vehicle shakes, and I rudely awaken to the present reality. Only the stunning angel remains…
Which leads to immediate, intense self-consciousness and loathing. I push my hair over my bad side more thoroughly. “Why are you here?”
Her lips part, and she stares at me long and hard. I know my rugged appearance is off-putting, but she’s out of options for assistance. Ouray’s local monster, it is. “M-m-my car…I drove into a tree or a ditch or something, and now I’m stuck and can’t get out.”
I eye her carefully, trying to keep the scarred part of me out of her line of sight. But nothing has changed. She still steals my breath and makes my heart clobber illogically against the interior wall of my ribcage. She’s the kind of girl I would have enthusiastically flirted with in my former life. I can tell by the flush of her cheeks and the way her eyes rove over the good parts of me, she would have flirted back. I remind myself that one sharp turn, one sweep of my long hair away from my face will transform the angel’s ambivalent expression into one of horror.
Clearing my throat, I growl, “Have you called emergency services yet?”
She shakes her head emphatically, cocking her head to the side and eyeing me suspiciously. It must be starting to sink in that I don’t look at her head-on. “No, I was just about to when I heard your Jeep. I figured live help is worth more than a voice over the phone…if I can get a voice over the phone. I don’t have a cell phone signal here.”
“It could be tricky with this storm. But you should always be able to call 911 because emergency service calls go to the first available cell phone tower, no matter your service provider. However, your emergency isn’t necessarily 911 level now that I’ve found you.”
“Y-y-yes,” she stammers breathlessly. I sense a new hesitant energy as she weighs the dangers of staying versus the risks of me.“That’s why hearing the engine of your vehicle was a miracle.”
“I’m no miracle, ma’am. But I do know one thing. Emergency services will be taxed thanks to this storm, blowing in fast and hard. Heck, I’ll be lucky if I make it back to my cabin. I could give you a lift in that direction, though, until the storm blows over. I’ve got food, heat, and a satellite phone you’re welcome to use. And I’m not a creep, serial killer, or anything like that, although…” I pause for a long moment, trying to figure out how to say this. “I’m hard on the eyes.”
Her brows furrow, and confusion floods her face.
I grimace, imagining how her countenance will tighten when she gets a good view of my face. I can already hear the hiss of air from her lungs as she tries to act like nothing’s wrong.
The lovely woman cranes her neck some more. Wagging her head back and forth between her car crashed in the ditch next to us and my vehicle, she observes, “I see you’re a Marine?” She points towards the sticker in the Jeep’s back window.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She presses her lovely pink lips firmly together. “My grandpa was a Marine. A Vietnam veteran… Well, seeing as I’m kind of out of options, I would appreciate a lift…”
“Normally, I’d offer to drive you into town. But this storm looks bad. A few more minutes talking, and we both might end up stuck along this road.”
“Okay,” she says, breathlessly.
I nod, frowning deeply. “In that case, let’s get this over with.”
She raises her eyebrows quizzically as I pull the e-brake and hop out, rounding the front of the Jeep. I don’t know any other way to do this than quickly and decisively like pulling off a bandage. As soon as I reach where she stands, her big brown eyes tick to my scars, only semi-hidden by my hair blowing in the wind.
Her expression goes instant deer-in-headlights, although she has far more self-control than most people the first time they see me. Her calm, clinical examination reminds me a little of how Chuck regards me. I fight the urge to apologize for my looks. Chuck pointed out a long time ago how weird and awkward that is. Besides, I have no words, my heart aching acutely in my chest, as her face strains, trying not to register the shock and horror her vision bestows.