Chapter 19
RAVEN
Oh, my God. What have I done?
I dropped to my knees to check on Nash. His head was bleeding where the log hit him. Nash had dropped like a rock when the branch I was swinging around to scare the bear hit him right on the head.
Only you, Raven, would knock out the man you love while trying to rescue him.
I draped myself over Nash’s limp form, as if I could keep a bear from mauling him with my body alone. I closed my eyes and trembled, waiting for the inevitable attack. When it didn’t come, I peeked my head up. Relief rushed through me like the flooded stream. The bear was lumbering back through the woods, apparently having lost interest in us.
Unsure if it was safe to move him or not, I tapped his cheek to try to wake him up. “Nash. Come on, Nash. Wake up.” Pressing my fingers to his neck, I felt his pulse. I exhaled with relief. Thank God, I hadn’t killed him.
“Wake up. I have to get you back to the cabin before that bear gets hungry again or tells his friends where to find fresh meat. Come on, Nash. Wake up.” My voice cracked with emotion as I blinked away tears.
Munch sniffed at him and licked his face. Not even a flinch from Nash. “Nice try, Munch. It’s probably going to take more than a couple of kisses to wake this sleeping beauty.” I looked at his lips and wondered… no . I couldn’t kiss an unconscious man.
Munch snorted.
“I know, I’m ridiculous. And I sure have messed things up this time.” I wiped away a trickle of blood headed for Nash’s eye. My hand trembled and my heart was about to jump out of my chest. I couldn’t lose Nash. Not like this. Especially not when it was all my fault. The tightness in my gut felt like I’d swallowed a bowling ball. I had to find a way to help him and get him to safety. “What do we do now, Munch? Any ideas?”
My dog sat and tilted his head, like he was trying to puzzle it out.
“We need help. He needs a doctor.” I reached for my phone, but realized it was still plugged in at the cabin. I could run back, get the phone, and then come back for Nash. But what if the bear returned, or some other wild animal smelled his fresh blood and came to feast on him? No, I couldn’t leave him there unconscious and defenseless.
“Alright, Nash. I have to get you back to the cabin.” I pulled on his shoulders to bring him to sitting. His head flopped forward. It took almost all my strength to keep him upright. “Man. You’re heavier than you look.”
I studied him for a moment, trying to plan out the best way to move him. With one hand holding his shoulder, I positioned myself behind him. Crouching down, I placed my back against his and linked my arms through his. With all the strength in my legs and back, I tried to lift him. I grunted as I pulled him onto my back like a backpack, but his weight on my tiny frame sent me crashing to my knees.
“Oof. No more dessert for you, big guy.” I took a moment to catch my breath and regather my strength. Though he was tall and muscular, without an ounce of fat on him, he was still twice my size. “How am I ever going to move him all the way to the cabin?”
I tried one more time, and this time, my boots slipped, and I landed flat on my face in the mud, with Nash still on my back. Spitting leaves and mud out of my mouth, I slid out from under him.
“Okay. Time for plan B.” I looked over at Munch. “We need a plan B, buddy. Come on, help me out here.”
I scanned the area for anything I could use. Rope. Cardboard. Duct tape. Anything. Of course, this deep in the woods, all I saw were sticks and leaves. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a vine growing up the side of a tree. I yanked it down. Maybe I could use it like a rope.
I wrapped the vine around Nash’s chest and under his arms, then from behind him, I wrapped it around my waist and tied it in a knot. Gripping onto the vine in front of me, I began to pull. His upper body rose off the ground, as his lower body dragged through the mud with each arduous inch forward. I felt like a sled dog, without the snow. Or a sled. Too bad I couldn’t strap this to Munch and get him to pull.
One labored step at a time, I heaved Nash through the woods the way we came. Munch led the way, frequently stopping to look back at me, wondering what was taking me so long.
When we were about halfway there, the vine broke, and Nash fell to the ground again with a thud.
I turned him over and tried carrying him on my back like a fireman would. But I was no fireman. I didn’t even get fully on my feet before my legs buckled and we both tumbled to the side of the path. “I’m so sorry, Nash. We probably should have just stayed where we were, but there’s nobody out here to help us, and you need some first aid.”
Even more so after your rescue.
I told my judge-y self to back off. I was doing the best that I could.
“Okay, plan C, or is this plan D? I’ve lost track.” I moved around to his feet, picked his boots up, and hooked them under my arms. With his rain jacket on and the hood pulled up, he slid along the muddy trail easier than I expected, but it still took all of my strength to move him.
I tried to walk on the smoothest part of the trail, but in some places that wasn’t possible, and his head bumped over the rocks and through puddles. “You’re lucky you’re not awake for this, Nash. You’d be cursing me, for sure,” I grunted with a wince. “And you’re sure gonna have one heck of a headache when you wake up.”
One would think all this jostling would wake him up. The fact that he stayed out through all of this showed how bad his injury was. My stomach turned. What if he never woke up?
No, I couldn’t think like that. Positive thoughts. Everything would be okay. Once I got him to the cabin, he’d wake up and give me a hard time. I had to believe that.
When I finally emerged from the woods and onto the grass with the cabin in sight, I breathed a sigh of relief. I don’t know how long it took me to drag him back, but it seemed like days.
At the steps of the cabin, I dropped his legs and moved to his upper body again. Gripping him under his arms, I grunted and hauled him inch-by-inch up the steps and to the door. Then I propped him against the door frame while I opened it. Inside the cabin, I shuffled him over to the mattress. He’d probably have slivers in his backside from the rough wood flooring.
That will be the least of his worries.
I removed his raincoat, which was fully caked with mud. Then I pulled him onto the mattress. Thankfully, it was low to the floor. Once he was situated, I flopped down next to him. Exhausted. My wrist throbbed from the exertion, but that was nothing compared to the sharp pain stabbing my heart as I watched Nash.
The gentle rise and fall of his chest gave me a glimmer of hope. Thank God. He was still breathing. I hadn’t killed him. His head was sticky with dirty dried blood and mud, and I couldn’t tell if it was still bleeding or not.
It needed to be cleaned and bandaged. Grabbing a roll of paper towels and my water bottle, I poured some water on a folded paper towel and began to gently dab away some of the blood and dirt from his face. A drop of water hit his cheek and slid down, creating a path through the dirt and crust. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
Please let him be okay .
“Nash, don’t die on me now.”
Now that we were safely inside the cabin, and my adrenaline was wearing off, I realized how dire our situation was. Nash needed medical attention and all he had was me.
Guilt clawed at me. Right along with shame, fear, and worry. This was all my fault. I did this to him. How could I live with myself if he didn’t wake up? Or if he woke up, but had brain damage?
I pushed that horrible thought aside and continued the task of cleaning and bandaging him up. His scalp wound was crusted with blood and dirt. I dabbed it with the paper towel. “Oof. That’s gotta hurt. You’re probably lucky you can’t feel this, or you’d be giving me some choice words about now. Not that I don’t deserve it. If it weren’t for my clumsiness, you wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place.”
The wet paper towel could only do so much. I needed something else to keep it from getting infected and to stop the bleeding. I looked around the sparse and dimly lit cabin.
Nash had used a first aid kit to doctor Munch when he was injured. The kit was on the floor in the corner, where Nash left it. Inside, there was some antibiotic salve and gauze that I remember him using. The gash on his head was similar to Munch’s, so I decided to do the same for Nash.
“Come on, you bull-headed baboon. If you’re just doing this to get me riled up, it worked. That’s enough, now. Wake up. Fight with me.” I poked him in the side, a place I remembered being ticklish when he was younger. Part of me hoped it would work the same now. Not the case. My eyes prickled and a lump formed in my throat. I wiped some blood from his brow and let my fingers trail down his face. A face I knew so well, and yet had never studied at such close range. Shadowy stubble had grown on his jaw and chin and felt rough against my skin. His dark eyelashes curled as they rested above his cheekbones. I willed them to raise and look at me. “You have to wake up, Nash. It’ll be boring here with only Munch to argue with. I need you to open your eyes. Please, Nash. Wake up.”
The intensity of my feelings overwhelmed me. I’d been in love with this man for most of my life. And always would be. I was deluding myself, thinking I could get over him. That would never happen. But what if I never got the chance to tell him how I felt about him? So much time wasted. I held his hand, praying for a chance to confess what was in my heart.
I rested my head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, and even nodded off for a while. At one point, he said my name. I bolted upright, excited that he was finally coming to, but he continued to sleep.
Out the window, the sun was starting to sink on the horizon. We were out longer than I’d realized. But Nash was still unconscious. I needed to find a way to wake him.
Gentleness and soft touches weren’t doing the trick. Neither was patiently waiting. It was time to try a different tactic. They say desperate times call for desperate measures.
I was desperate.