An Allegheny Homecoming Page 19
“Josh?”
He was dreaming. He thought he heard Wendy calling his name. Wendy. He had thrown away the best woman he’d ever met.
“Josh.” Something brushed his cheek, caressed his forehead. “Wake up.”
He opened his eyes to Wendy’s beautiful face framed by raven hair. He wasn’t dreaming. He was hallucinating. But when she tugged on his arm the pain was a reminder he was still alive and Wendy was real. He moaned. “I think it’s broken.”
“Oh, my goodness, Josh, you have to help me. Your skin is like ice. We’ve got to get you on your feet.” Her hand caressed his face.
He reveled in the warmth. “Let me just lay here a minute.” The fog pulled him back closer to the damp ground.
“You have to get up. It’ll be completely dark soon.”
Twigs snapped. Leaves rustled. He remembered. “Cat.” His throat was dry and his tongue thick. “Wendy, there’s a cat. Somewhere.”
“No cat, Josh.” She had gone around behind him and pressed on his back with her shoulder. “Push against me and try to stand. I bet your legs are okay.”
His eyes popped open at the spasm of pain that shot through his midsection. At the same time he swept his gaze along the stretch of pines for the big cat. His thigh muscles strained as he came to a standing position. He dropped his chin to his chest as a wave of dizziness swept over him.
“Don’t fall, Josh, please don’t fall.”
He shuddered as she wrapped an arm around his waist. “Ribs. My ribs might be broken.”
“Okay, take it easy.” She released the tight grip around his chest and held on to his belt. “Let’s see if we can make it to the cabin.”
“Cat, Wendy.” He couldn’t tell if the words were in his head or on his lips. All he could do was warn her. “Cat, Wendy.”
* * *
THEY WERE BOTH soaking wet and dirty when they got to the cabin. She could barely see in the darkness. Every step had brought a grunt of pain from Josh’s lips, though she tried to be careful where she supported him.
Once they’d entered the cabin, Wendy eased him onto the bed and immediately lit the lantern. What to do next? She thought back to when he had rescued her from the snowdrift. He had been afraid of hypothermia. The first thing he did was start a fire. But she had waited dry and warm in a heated truck. His wet clothes had to go. She pulled off his boots, then replaced the wet clothes with a dry shirt, sweatpants and socks from the duffel bag. She’d have to get that fire going soon. Then she covered him with a blanket. “You’ve been wanting to do that to me since you met me.” His speech was slurred.
She smiled, pleased he was conscious, until she had a thought. When Josh had brought her in from the cold, he said her speech was slurred and he feared she was suffering from exposure. Seeing his sleeping bag next to his duffel bag, she unrolled it and laid it over top of him. She ran a hand over his face, his stubble rough against her fingers. His eyes were closed. They needed a fire now.
A pack of matches lay at the edge of the smoke-stained mantel. Sue and Brad. Gold script on a pink background. Had he kept the matches on purpose? Or did he just want to use them up to erase the bad memories? She got the fire going, grateful for the stack of wood piled in the cabin. She set a basin of water on the hearth to heat, and with a last look at Josh, went outside to retrieve her suitcase.
Snow fell like a silent white curtain from above. She looked over at the still-saddled horse in the middle of the corral. “I’ll be right back to take care of you, fella.”
She changed into dry clothes, checked on the basin of water by the fire. With a quick look at Josh, she went outside and moved the horse into the small barn, removing his saddle, finding hay and breaking the ice in a water bucket.
The water in the basin was ready by the time she returned. Dipping a washcloth in the warm water, she knelt by the bed. “Josh? Should I let you sleep?”
She wiped the dirt from his face, only then seeing the scratches from when he had fallen. But he didn’t move. “Josh, what do I do? You’re the medic.” She rinsed out the cloth and washed each of his cuts. Then she covered him up again.
Tea. He had woken her and given her tea. She checked the cabin, peeking in drawers and cupboards. No tea. She found a box of instant hot chocolate mix.
So she added a packet of hot chocolate mix to a fresh cup of warm water and stirred. Instead of a frothy mix the powder stayed in clumps. She gave the cup one more stir and carried it over to the cot where she perched on the edge. “Josh, wake up.” Getting no response she set the cup on the floor and patted his face. “Josh.”
He stirred. His eyes were just slits, but he smiled. “Hi, sweetie.”
“You need to drink something warm. Can you sit up?” He bent forward but groaned in pain. “Stop. Let’s try something different.” She tucked another pillow behind his head and held the cup to his lips.
He slurped. A drop ran down his chin. She wiped it with the wet cloth. “Hmm, that’s good, honey.” Another smile.
Wendy smiled. “It’s lumpy warm chocolate. How long were you out there anyway?” She startled at the thought she didn’t know when he had last eaten. “Are you hungry?” She looked back at the drawers and cupboards.
“No food. Not now.” He lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes. “I hurt.”
“I know. What should I do?”
She was about to move away when he whispered. “Stay.”
She touched his face. “I’ll be right back.”
“Lay next to me.” His plea came out in a whisper. “Please, Wendy.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Minutes later, she slipped under the blankets and lay down next to him. She shifted onto her side and rested her arm across his middle. “Does that hurt?”
“No.” Another whisper. His hand moved slowly until his fingers covered hers. She listened to his breathing. The only light in the room came from the fireplace. She was thinking about the wisdom of allowing Josh to sleep, when he spoke.
“Remember the first night we spent like this?” His breath tickled her chin.
“Yes. For a lot of it, I didn’t even know your name.”
His laugh turned to a groan. “You know what?”
“What?” She pressed her hand to his cheek, which still felt cold, and tucked the blanket tight around him.
“I wasn’t asleep.” His eyes fluttered, then stayed open, searching her face for a response.
“Hi, there, blue eyes. Welcome back.” She ran her thumb over his lower lip. “You know what? I wasn’t asleep, either.”
He started to take a deep breath, but grimaced halfway through. “I’m messed up, Wendy.”
“I know. Your ribs and your arms. I’ll get us back down the mountain as soon as it’s daylight. Can I do anything else for you? Should I splint your arm or something?”
“Just lay here with me.” One corner of his mouth curved up. His eyes fluttered again until he was staring up at the ceiling. “I’m messed up in my head, Wendy.”
She knew what he was referring to. His secret. The one he thought she and Katie had figured out. But now wasn’t the time. “No you’re not. You might have a concussion, but you’re lucid. You have some broken bones.” She studied the man next to her. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Remember the night we looked at the stars? You and Rover showed up while I was waiting to get sober.” He twisted his neck until he could look at her. “By the way, what did you do with Rover?”
“I haven’t had a chance to tell you.” She propped herself on an elbow so he didn’t have to strain to see her. “Rover belongs to Hawkeye. His name is Buddy.”
“No kidding. Wasn’t Hawkeye worried about him?”
“That was the strange part. He wasn’t surprised at all to find Rover staying with me. He acted like Rover, I me
an, Buddy, was on a mission. That Hawkeye, he’s a character.” She took a breath, smoothing the wrinkles in the blankets. “You were talking about that night we looked at the stars.”
“Orion is my middle name. I guess my mom thought it appropriate with my last name being Hunter.”
“Joshua Orion Hunter. I like that. It has a ring to it.” She smiled at him warmly.
“Anyway, the night we looked at the stars.”
She remained propped above him, waiting for him to explain. “What about that night?”
“That’s when I knew I was falling in love with you.”
Her heart skipped a beat, then another. “I love you, too, Joshua Orion Hunter.”
* * *
HIS BODY FELT like it had been put through a wood chipper. He groaned.
“You’re awake.” Wendy appeared in his line of vision. How did she always manage to look like she had just stepped out of the beauty parlor? “Merry Christmas. Today is Christmas Eve.”
“When did you get here?”
“Yesterday. I found you in the woods, remember? You fell off the horse.”
“I didn’t fall off. I got thrown. Bombproof. Yeah, right.”
“When I found you, you kept saying ‘cat.’”
“I need a drink.” Josh tried to lift himself off the bed but the pain was too great. “Help me up.”
She propped him up and found support for his back. “There, how’s that?”
“Good. Now, please, get me a drink.”
Her forehead creased, but she disappeared and then returned with a cup, which she held to his lips. “Easy.”
He sputtered and turned his head away. “Not water. There’s a bottle in the cupboard.” She looked puzzled but went over to the cupboard as he asked. He lay back against the pillow and tried to recall the previous day.
“This is scotch, Josh. Do you want coffee? I could make some.”
He raised his voice. “A drink, Wendy. Pour the scotch in the cup and bring me a drink.”
“You’re kidding, right? It’s seven in the morning. And I’m no medical professional, but I doubt you’re supposed to have alcohol when you’re hurt. You might have internal bleeding or something.”
“I’m the one who got thrown off the horse.”
She didn’t answer. She returned with a cup and held it to his lips.
“Hot chocolate? Where did that come from?” The question brought to mind the image of Hank Hershberger in his wheelchair, bitter and angry. How poetic that Josh was now an invalid.
Her beautiful lips were pressed in a thin line. “I’m not giving you alcohol. I don’t have to be a medic to know that’s a bad idea.”
“Go away. I don’t want you here.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” She went to the cabin door and opened it. “I’d drive us down the mountain, but the snow looks too deep. I’m sure Matt will be here soon.”
“What difference does it make? I mean, what does it matter if I drink? I’m not driving.” He laughed an ugly laugh. “I’m not even riding a horse. I’m just staying out of everybody’s way up here on top of the mountain. If I want to drink—” he threw the cup across the room “—then I’ll damn well drink.” He tried to rise, but bit back a cry of pain and sank onto the bed.
She went over to him then. “What about last night?” She reached for his hand. “You told me you loved me, Josh.”
“Love? You want to talk about love?” His voice came from a place deep within him that he didn’t recognize. “You haven’t even asked me if I plan to turn myself in. Come on, you must be curious how my sordid story plays out.” He paused. “There’s no happy ending, Wendy.” When she didn’t respond, he twisted the knife a little further. “But then, you’re not a fan of happy endings are you? Happy endings don’t make for a good story.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
MATT, ERNIE AND SNAKE showed up midmorning in the heavy-duty pickup with the plow attached. They had plowed on the way up so Wendy’s vehicle could get back down the mountain. They loaded Josh in the back of her SUV, Matt drove, claiming his experience driving the road would save them time. Wendy sat in the back, trying to keep Josh from getting bounced around too much. They stopped for only a moment when they got to the ranch to let Ernie out, and then Wendy and Matt drove Josh to the hospital.
“Are you family?” The clerk at the registration desk looked at Wendy over half-moon glasses.
She shook her head. “Just a friend.” And barely even that, she wanted to add. “His family is back in Pennsylvania.”
“Then we’ll see how things go. In the meantime, fill out what you can of this form.”
“Can I go with him?”
The clerk eyed her up and down, and then nodded. “He looks pretty banged up. He could probably use the moral support, honey.”
She finished the forms and then wandered down the hospital corridor, peeking behind curtained alcoves.
Matt appeared from the farthest alcove, speaking to someone. “I said he was bombproof, not cat proof.”
Again with the cat. Wendy touched his arm to get his attention. “How is he?”
“They’re taking him to X-ray. Come down to the cafeteria with me, would you? I’m starved.”
With a last look toward Josh’s room, Wendy accompanied Matt to the cafeteria. When they were seated, he gave her a look. “Do you know about Josh?”
“What do you mean?”
Matt lifted the top slice off his sandwich and looked around. “Be right back.” He returned with ketchup and added a dollop on top. He took a large bite and studied her as he chewed.
Wendy fiddled with her tea. Each time she looked up he was still watching her, chewing methodically. “Do you mean Josh now or Josh...before?”
Matt swallowed and, avoiding her gaze, inspected his sandwich. “Before.”
“How long have you known?” she asked.
“He just told me.”
“He assumed I’d figured it out. Ha. He gives me more credit than I deserve. He went on a rant just before he left Bear Meadows and pretty much admitted everything. I was shocked.”
“Me, too.” Matt finished his sandwich, his drink and carried the dirty dishes to the counter. When he returned, he sat back down.
“We should be with him, don’t you think?”
“I just have one more question for you.”
Something in the way he said the words caused Wendy to press back against her chair. The phrase dynamite comes in small packages came to Wendy’s mind when she met his gaze. “You can ask me anything.”
“Are you putting his story on your sister’s news show?”
* * *
AFTER BEING POKED and prodded and wheeled around to multiple departments, Josh was returned to a semiprivate room on the third floor. Luckily, the adjacent bed was empty.
“What’s the verdict?” Matt entered the room, followed by Wendy. “Although your arm in a cast tells me a lot.”
“That’s the bad news.” Josh grinned. “The good news is they finally gave me some painkillers.” He stole a glance at Wendy, who seemed more interested in the show on the television hanging on the wall than his diagnosis. “Cracked ribs and a slight concussion. I guess my head bounced off one of those logs. Broken arm. Oh, and exposure from laying on the ground all day. Other than that, I’m just dandy.”
Matt perched at the foot of the bed. “You always were a tough one. Heck of a way to spend Christmas.” Josh’s gaze remained on Wendy, who stood with her back to the two men. “I’m guessing they want to keep you a few days.”
Josh nodded. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Wendy. But then, he shouldn’t be surprised. He had been hard on her that morning.
“Tell you what, fella. I’m going to head home. We’ll come back early in th
e morning to check on you. Aunt Steff will want to bring you a goody package.” He stood. “I’ll leave you two alone. Wendy, when you’re ready to go back to the house, I’ll be waiting down in the lobby.”
She gave Matt a bright smile. “That won’t be necessary, Matt. I can get a cab to the airport.” When she finally met Josh’s gaze, the smiled disappeared. “I’d like to be with my family for Christmas.” When she walked over to the bed, he thought for a moment she would kiss him goodbye. Instead, she pried open his fingers and dropped a dark blue button onto his palm. His loose shirt button from the day after they met. “Goodbye, Joshua Hunter.”
* * *
WENDY SAT ALONE in the den staring into the fire. Her sister had picked her up at the airport at noon. The day before, she had gotten as far as Denver. The last plane to Atlanta had developed mechanical problems, so she’d spent Christmas Eve in the Denver airport, watching the snow fall outside. Wendy had then discovered that Christmas Day was the perfect time to fly. The airports were practically deserted.
From her spot in front of the fire, she could hear her parents laughing in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Even Oliver, the Yorkshire terrier, had made himself scarce, as if he knew she wanted to be alone. The lights were lit on the tree.
“Why are you sitting in here in the dark?” Her father switched on a lamp by the couch. He sat down across from her. “It’s snowing again. You made it home just in time.”
“You and Mom need any help in the kitchen? Is Katie helping?” She knew they didn’t. They never did. They were a self-contained unit, needing nothing but each other. But she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Katie’s upstairs on her phone and your mother’s icing the Yule log.” He chuckled. “Maybe this year she can roll up the cake without breaking it in two. Remember last year’s log? It was fifty percent icing. It took so much to hold it—”
A minute passed before she realized he had stopped talking. She glanced up and smiled. “You couldn’t tell by looking at it. And it still tasted good.”