3. Wilder
WILDER
“ C alm down, woman, I’m trying to help,” I grunt at the unfortunate person in this precarious position.
I wasn’t sure what the fuck I was looking at when I saw a canvas tent catapulting its way through the forest, tumbling downhill before wedging itself between a Y-shaped tree trunk. Now that I’m standing right in front of it, I’m still not sure what the hell to do about it.
The trapped woman thrashes to one side, then hisses. My heart lurches in my chest at the thought of her being in pain. Weird, since I didn’t know I still had a heart.
“If you just stay still, I can–”
“I come in peace,” she says suddenly, making me pause my actions for a moment while I quirk up an eyebrow. Her screams have subsided, and she now seems to be trying a different tactic. “If you’re a lost soul looking to cross over to the other side, I can help.”
Lost soul? Crossing over? What kind of lunatic is trespassing on my land?
“I’m not the one who’s lost,” I tell her, clearing my throat. “You, on the other hand, seem to have found your way onto private property.”
She freezes, apparently expecting ghosts and aliens but not humans.
“Oh,” the woman says, her tone soft and a little disappointed. Weird . “Well, I–”
Just then, the slick tent material tears, causing the woman to slip from her awkward position in the tree.
I lunge forward, holding out my arms to catch her before she hits the ground.
The excess canvas material, along with what I’m assuming are her blankets, clothes, and sleeping bag, continue their journey down the mountain and into a ravine while I cradle the strange and now-trembling woman against my chest.
I sit on the forest floor and carefully peel back the layers of fabric still covering the trespasser in my arms. When I see her face for the first time, I swear to God I forget how to breathe.
Dark green eyes blink up at me, framed in long, dark lashes that match her espresso-colored hair. Silver moonlight kisses her rosy cheeks and full, pouty lips, which are currently pulled down into an anxious frown. She’s clinging to a backpack, so at least she didn’t lose everything.
“Um, I’m-I’m sorry,” she stammers. “I didn’t realize… Private property… I-I-I thought…”
The woman scrambles out of my lap, only to yelp in pain as soon as she puts pressure on her left foot. I immediately stand and wrap an arm around her waist, steadying her as she balances on her uninjured foot.
“Better get that looked at,” I grunt, still unsure where this rush of protective and confusing feelings is coming from.
“Right. I’ll just hobble down there and collect my stuff,” she says, nodding her chin toward her pile of things hundreds of feet below us, “and make my way to the first hospital I see.”
I think she’s trying to be funny and sarcastic, but her nose is red, and her eyes are welling up with tears, so she’s not quite pulling off the joke.
“I meant I’d take you back to my cabin and make sure nothing’s broken. You can rest up for the night and be on your way. What were you doing up here anyway?”
After a beat of silence, I look down at the woman currently leaning against me.
The tiniest sob shakes her shoulders, and she sniffles softly.
Goddamn, if my chest isn’t caving in at the sight of her tears.
It’s been years since I’ve led any sort of rescue mission, but all of my training is still there, working in the background.
My sole purpose now is to get this woman to safety and make sure she doesn’t cry anymore. It makes my chest feel funny, like I can’t breathe knowing she’s upset.
“You’re going to be okay,” I say in what I hope is a calming voice. “My name is Wilder. I’m a former Army Ranger, and I have some field medic experience. I’m going to take you back to my cabin and patch you up, all right?”
It’s been months since I’ve had to talk to another human being, but when I’m in soldier mode, all that other shit can take a back seat. This woman needs to know she can trust me and that I’ll lead her to safety.
And when the sun comes up tomorrow, I’ll promptly drop her off at the base of the mountain where she belongs with a strong warning not to come up this way again.
Even as I think the words, I don’t know if that’s what I really want. No time to dive into what the hell that means. Not with an active mission taking place.
“My name is Ari. Short for Arizona. I have five younger siblings who depend on me and parents who love me very much and would notice if I went missing.” She tries to take a step away from me, wincing as her left ankle wobbles.
I pull her against me again, not wanting her to hurt herself any further.
“Are you telling me personal facts because you think I’m going to kill you?
” I ask, my eyes wandering down her body.
Ari is a thick girl, and I won’t lie; I love it.
She’s wearing layers under her coat, but I can still make out her curves.
Not that it matters. Totally fucking inappropriate.
“Just covering my bases,” Ari says with a nod.
She’s kind of… adorable. I don’t know if I’ve ever thought that word, let alone about another person. “I think the personal facts are supposed to be true at least, right?”
Ari whips her head up, those green eyes piercing me to my core. She narrows her eyelids, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. Jesus, I want to kiss her. Which isn’t like me. The thought sends me reeling, and I have to break eye contact to ensure I don’t act on my crazy urge.
“How do you know I’m lying?”
“So you admit it?” I counter.
“I–” Ari pitches to the side, a whimper escaping her lips.
Without a second thought, I scoop her up in my arms, carrying her through the forest bridal-style while she clutches her backpack to her chest like it’s her only lifeline.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her, unsure what to do with the warmth spreading across my chest now that the green-eyed goddess is curled up against me.
She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. I get the sense she’s been alone for a while and isn’t used to someone helping. I can relate. While I can’t keep Ari, I can provide a place to stay for the night and an ice pack for her undoubtedly sprained ankle.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, swallowing down another whimper.
“What hurts?” I grunt, the words coming out far harsher than I meant. I want to end her suffering and ensure she never experiences pain again, which I realize is an over-the-top reaction to a woman I just met.
“I’m fine,” she squeaks.
“More lies,” I tell her, looking down at the woman in my arms. Her face is twisted up in pain, her jaw clenched so hard she might crack a fuckin’ tooth if she’s not careful.
“My ankle was numb, but now it’s on fire and throbbing. And the headache behind my left eye feels like it’s going to crack my skull open. But overall, I think I’m pretty good. At least I’m not at the bottom of a ravine, which I totally would have been if not for you, so… thanks.”
She ends her rushed speech and sucks in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut against another wave of throbbing pain. I grunt and hold her closer, picking up my pace while still making sure I’m not going to fall and injure this woman any further.
“Do you know any ghost stories?” she asks, surprising the hell out of me.
“Uh…”
“To distract me from the pain. I’ll go first. I visited this old, haunted asylum in Pennsylvania last year. Legend says that up to six hundred people died there under suspicious circumstances. One patient–”
I stumble over a large boulder hidden amongst the brush, jostling Ari. She tries not to make a sound, but I know I hit her sore ankle, which makes me want to punch myself in the face.
After a few moments of silence, I realize Ari isn’t going to continue her story. I have questions on why she’s intentionally visiting these dangerous places, but now isn’t the time to bring out the inquisition.
I wrack my brain for any kind of story, whether filled with goblins, ghosts, or princesses. But I have nothing. So, I tell her the only story I know. Mine.
“My unit had been in the desert for four days when we got the order,” I start, looking straight ahead. Eye contact feels… strangely vulnerable, and I’m already all wound up by this woman. No need to confuse things even more.
Ari stills in my arms, like she somehow understands I’ve never spoken these words to anyone. She holds her breath, waiting for me to continue.
“As the Commanding Officer of my unit, it was my job to make sure the mission went off without a hitch. I thought I planned for everything. I did plan for everything. Everything except the cruelty of war.”
Ari nuzzles her nose into the side of my neck, then traces her fingertips up and down the back of my neck where she’s holding onto me. Is this woman comforting me?
“What happened next?” she asks, her voice soft, like she’s talking to a timid animal.
“We moved in on the target—a building where we believed the enemy was storing weapons. It was seamless. One of those rare missions when everyone was in total sync, a true machine with all the parts working together in tandem. All of our intelligence and surveillance told us the town had been evacuated weeks ago, and from what we had seen so far, that was true. We didn’t know. I didn’t know.”
I pause, swallowing thickly as I try not to get weighed down with the gritty details. Ari continues to gently stroke the back of my neck while her nose brushes my ear.
“I believe you,” she murmurs.
I didn’t know that’s what I needed to hear, but damn if I don’t nod, thanking her for acknowledging the most important part. I didn’t know.