Into The Storm Page 7

Still nothing. I sighed and looked over at her. She was staring down at her book. She was incredibly pale and drawn-looking. My heart lurched at the sight of her suffering. I softened my voice. “I’ll be in and out all day, and probably tomorrow, working on the snow. You don’t have to stay in here.” I paused, but there was no response. “Are you in pain? Do you need some pills?”

  She shook her head but still didn’t say anything. “I’ll be in later to add more logs to the fire. Eat your sandwich, Rabbit.”

  I walked towards the door.

  “Joshua.”

  Her voice stopped me and I turned.

  She looked at me with pain-filled eyes.

  Her voice was tight. “Don’t call me that again.”

  I nodded and pulled the door closed behind me.

  It worked.

  She hated me.

  Chapter Ten

  Joshua

  I sat in the hot tub, the water moving around me; my leg throbbing painfully. The front part of the house leading to the barn and the drive was plowed, but it had taken most of the day. Tomorrow, I would start the process of the long, winding drive, but at least I would be inside the truck where it would be warmer. After a while, the jets shut off and I lay there in the hot water just letting the warmth seep into my cold body. I had heard some footfalls moving overhead earlier and knew Rabbit had gone back into the bedroom now that I was back in the house. A couple of times when I stopped to take a break, I had caught a glimpse of her at the window looking out. The urge to wave at her had been so great, and yet I resisted. I wasn’t sure if she knew I saw her and I didn’t want her staying in the bedroom all the time to avoid me seeing her. I was dreading the long evening that stretched out in front of me. Normally, I would read or work, but neither appealed to me. What did appeal to me was some great-tasting dinner and the quiet company of a tiny stranger. I grimaced as I stood up. I wouldn’t be having either of those again. I winced as I recalled the tone in her voice when she told me not to call her Rabbit anymore.

  I dried off and dressed, climbing the stairs slowly. I needed some pain meds. I hesitated outside the bedroom door, then straightened my shoulders and knocked before walking in. The room was darker now and Rabbit was curled up on the bed, her back to the door. I added logs to the fire, noting that she had brought some in from the front room. I went and got some pills, also noticing they were in the exact place I had left them, meaning she hadn’t taken any. I knew she had to still be hurting and I closed my eyes and took a calming breath as I felt a ripple of anger go through me. I swallowed a couple of tablets and shook two more into my hand and refilled the water glass.

  I strode over to the bed and set the tablets and water on the table. “If you think not taking any pain medication is somehow getting even with me, then you’re acting stupid, Rabbit. The only one suffering because you’re being stubborn is you. Take the pills,” I said coldly.

  “Just leave me alone, Joshua,” she said faintly.

  “If you don’t look after yourself, you can’t heal. If you can’t heal, you can’t remember. You need to eat, rest, and take the pain medication. Give your body the chance to recover. Stop being so bloody stubborn,” I snapped.

  Her head shifted and she regarded me in the dim light. “I ate the sandwich, I am resting and I didn’t take the pills because they make me sleepy. I was saving them for later. I took some regular Tylenol. Don’t worry, Joshua. I’m doing everything you want me to do, including staying out of your way. I even brought in some wood so you don’t have to come in here and stoke the fire. I am quite capable of doing so myself.”

  I stood looking down at her. “Do you want to come and have some supper with me, Rabbit?”

  She sat up. “I told you to stop calling me Rabbit. Why would you want to have supper with me? You’re the one who said to stay out of your way. So, I’m doing that. Or, since you can’t fuck my body, you thought you’d just fuck with my mind instead?” she snapped at me. “At least have a little fun that way?”

  I stepped back at the venom in her voice. “I just want to make sure you eat. If I don’t call you Rabbit, what would you like me to call you?”

  She stared at me. “Just don’t call me anything. Leave me alone. You’re hurting me, Joshua. You just keep hurting me.” She lay back down and closed her eyes. I could see her chest rising and falling in distressed little gasps of air.

  My hand hovered in the air, desperate to touch and soothe her. I pulled it back. I walked to the door and hesitated. “I’m leaving the door open so the air can circulate. It’s really cold outside and I want the house to stay warm. I won’t bother you. Okay?”

  “This is your house, Joshua. I’m just the person making you uncomfortable in your own home. Do whatever you want,” she whispered tiredly.

  “Call me if you need something, Ra … I’m just down the hall,” I said quietly, my voice sad.

  There was no response.

  I knew she wouldn’t call.

  The silence in the house screamed around me.

  I pulled the plow into the barn and got out, slamming the door. I stood looking towards the driveway. It was almost done. The drifts in some places were massive and I had to use not only the plow but the snow blower to clear some of them. I figured I had about another three hundred feet to go before I got to the gate. Then I would start on the dirt road. I sighed, exhausted and in pain again. I glanced towards the house, wondering for the hundredth time what Rabbit was doing. Not a word had been spoken between us in the last two days. When I went into the house for breaks, I would see a washed plate or glass in the drainer. I knew she left them so I would know she was eating. I would hear her moving around when I was downstairs, so I knew she was making sure to only come out of the bedroom when she was sure not to bump into me. I also knew she was sleeping about as little as I was, as I saw the dim light from the lantern burn long into the night as I lay on the sofa. Once she crept out of the bedroom to get a drink and I pretended to be asleep. She stood over the back of the sofa and I felt the blanket being pulled up and around me. I wanted to reach out and capture her hand in mine and talk to her, but she turned away quickly with a soft sigh and walked away. When she did sleep, she often cried out in fright, and more than once, I had snuck in and stroked her hair until she settled, often sighing my name. It took everything I had not to crawl in beside her and pull her into my arms. Bear was her ever-present guard, only sitting with me for short periods and looking as sad as I felt as he walked around the invisible mine fields in the house.

  I pulled my hand through my sweat-soaked hair as I made my way back to the house. From the news on the radio about the large disaster area around me, I knew we had at least two weeks before any communication or aid from outside would get through. I wasn’t sure how either of us was going to survive two more weeks.

  I looked at my watch. It was just after three. I needed a shower, a soak in the hot tub and something to eat; in that order. I had taken a casserole out of the freezer that Cecilia had left for me. I was going to heat it up and make Rabbit eat some of it. I was sure she was existing on toast or sandwiches.

  Inside, I hung up my coat, went into the bathroom in the hall and, shivering in the cold, I stripped and hopped into the shower quickly. I grabbed some clean clothes in the mudroom and went downstairs. Almost immediately, I heard footsteps above me. I sank into the tub, letting the heat ease my muscles. The footsteps ceased, so I assumed Rabbit was now back in the bedroom. I heard Bear bark sharply and frowned. He rarely barked. Rabbit must have closed the bedroom door and he wanted in. The ache was so bad in my leg that I reset the timer for another twenty minutes when it went off, needing the extra cycle today. I rubbed the muscles ineffectually, thinking once again of Rabbit’s well-done massage. The timer shut off and I got out and dried off.

  Bear was barking again and I could hear his paws beating across the floor. I went upstairs and found him waiting for me, pacing. I remembered I hadn’t fed him and walked slowly to the kitchen. I noticed the b
edroom door wasn’t shut, just pulled to. I knew his reason for the barking and pacing now. He was hungry. He continued to pace back and forth to the front window and I sat his food down and called him. He came over, looking at me, a low whine in the back of his throat. I looked at him, leaning down and patting his head. “What’s up, Bear?” I asked, confused at his stance. He was acting rather strange. He padded down the hall towards the bedroom and stood whining by the door. My stomach clenched and suddenly I was nervous. Was Rabbit okay? I followed him and pushed the door open. The room was empty. The bathroom door was open and she wasn’t there either. I made my way to the living area and made sure she wasn’t lying on the couch. My heart began to beat faster. Where was she? I called her name but only silence greeted me. I quickly checked the closed-off rooms but they, too, were empty. I made my way upstairs, praying she had fallen asleep and hadn’t heard me but there was nothing but another empty room staring at me.

  She wasn’t downstairs.

  She wasn’t in the basement.

  She wasn’t in the house.

  Anywhere.

  Rabbit was gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Joshua

  I took in a calming breath. She probably went outside to get some fresh air and I was panicking over nothing. I went downstairs, opened the door and looked around. I called her name but heard nothing. A thought occurred to me and I went back into the bedroom, searching. The bag I had found in the car was gone.

  She was running. But to where? What was she thinking? Where the fuck was she going? I roared out in frustration and panic as I grabbed my coat and boots and hurried to the barn with Bear hot on my heels. I had to find her.

  The truck thundered to life and I tore down the driveway, the tires spinning on the snow-covered surface. As I rounded the last bend, I saw her, trudging slowly through the still-unplowed snow about a hundred feet ahead of me. Her head was bowed and she was struggling to keep moving forward. I threw the truck in park and climbed out of the cab. Bear jumped out behind me barking and running through the thick snow.

  “Rabbit!” I yelled, following Bear. She kept going. I pushed forward closing the distance. Bear had reached her and was in front of her, dancing around, barking and jumping. She ignored him and kept plodding forward. “Rabbit! Stop walking right fucking now!” I snarled loudly in anger. I closed the last few feet and grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “What the fuck are you doing? Where are you going?”

  She barely looked at me, pushing my hand off her arm, as she turned back away from me. “Away from you.”

  “Exactly how far do you think you’re going to get before you fucking freeze to death?” I demanded, grabbing her once again.

  “I don’t really care,” she muttered.

  “Well, I do,” I shouted. “You’re coming back to the house. Now!”

  She looked at me and my heart lurched at the sight of the frozen tears on her face. “I’m not your problem, Joshua. Just forget I was even here. I’ll just get to the main road and someone will pick me up there.”

  I stared at her in horror. She really thought she’d just walk to the road? That it was that simple?

  “Rabbit, the road is at least a mile away—probably more. And, it won’t have any cars on it. It won’t even be plowed yet! Even if I let you go, you’ll never make it!”

  She gazed at me for a minute, and then turned her head towards the road and shrugged. She pushed my hands off her shoulders and turned around, beginning to move forward again.

  What the fuck? Obviously, she wasn’t thinking clearly; if she was thinking at all. Without another thought, I lunged forward and, in one motion, spun her around and flung her over my shoulder. I heard her gasp of shock and pain as she hit my shoulder, but I was past caring. She wasn’t going anywhere; she was coming back to the house with me. I strode through the snow holding Rabbit closely so I didn’t jostle her any more than I had to. The entire time we closed the distance back to the truck, I berated her. What the fuck was she thinking? There was no way in hell I would let her just … leave. Did she really think I could act as if I didn’t care and stand here and watch her walk away? Did she not realize she would die before she reached the main road? It was fucking freezing out and she wasn’t even dressed properly! Where the fuck was her common sense? By the time we got to the truck, I had finished my tirade, Rabbit not once interrupting me. I opened the truck door and literally flung her on the seat, slamming the door behind her. I went around the truck and let Bear into the back. I began to climb in the driver’s seat, only to see her scramble out of the truck and begin walking back towards the house. “What the fuck are you doing?” I bellowed, chasing after her. “Get back in the fucking truck, Rabbit! Now!”

  She kept moving. I caught up to her and spun her around. Tears were pouring down her face. “Leave me alone, Joshua,” she pleaded. “Just leave me alone. I can’t … I can’t …” her voice trailed off into deep chest-ripping sobs. My anger drained away. Intense longing tore through me. The need to comfort, to care and to claim the sobbing woman in front of me overwhelmed my senses and I dragged her into my arms. I rained kisses over her wet face, struggling to keep her close. She twisted and pulled, trying to get away from me. I refused to let her out of the cage of my embrace and eventually she fell forward, burrowed into my chest, her body shaking with emotion and cold. I picked her up, gently this time, and carried her to the truck. I kept her trembling form in my arms, across my lap as I drove the truck back to the house. My lips never left her skin. They brushed soft kisses and gentle caresses over her cheeks, forehead, and the crown of her head; anywhere they could reach. I could feel the deep cold in her body as she shook in my arms, not saying a word, her sobs tearing at my heart.

  Once inside the house, I moved as quickly as I could. I carried her to the basement and sat her down on the stool. Bear sat beside her, whining deep in his throat, sensing her distress. She was shaking violently and I knew I had to warm her up, albeit slowly. I hastily removed my clothes, leaving my boxers on and then knelt in front of her, removing her frozen shoes and socks. Her feet were like ice. I rubbed them, trying to stimulate circulation and then reached up and pulled off her jacket. The entire time I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming at her again. I doubted she would have even made it to the end of the drive, she was so cold. The thoughts of what could have happened kept playing over and over in my head. Gently, I stood her up and lifted her chin. “I’m taking off your clothes, Rabbit. I need to warm you up, okay?” I spoke calmly and kept eye contact with her, making sure she understood what I was saying. She continued to stare at me and I quickly pulled her shirt off, followed by her sodden pants, leaving her in just her underwear. Her skin was freezing cold to the touch, with a slight bluish tinge to it. I braced myself for the next part. Lifting her up, I walked over to the exercise pool. I looked down at her. “Hold tight, Rabbit. This isn’t going to feel good at first, but we need to do this.” I stepped into the lukewarm water and submerged us both quickly. Rabbit gasped at the shock and struggled in my arms. I held her tightly.

  “I know it feels like you’re burning, Rabbit. Your body needs to warm up slowly. It’s okay. It will pass.” I whispered quietly into her ear, continuing to hold her as the chills raced through her body. She whimpered but stopped struggling and I sat down on the ledge in the pool and loosened my hold. I ran one hand up and down her legs and arms, trying to add more warmth to her body. I stroked her hair, grazed her cheeks with my lips and hummed lovingly into her ear to distract her. I have no idea how long we were sitting before I was satisfied she was back to a more normal temperature, and her sobs had silenced. Then I stood up and carried her over to the hot tub and, once again lowered us both into the water. This time she simply sighed and relaxed in my arms, welcoming the heat. Her head fell against my shoulder and I stroked her hair as I leaned back and allowed myself to relax.

  Minutes passed, the only sound in the room that of the bubbling water. Rabbit’s unexpected apology was s
poken softly.

  “Why?” I asked back just as softly. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you were gone?”

  “I thought I’d be long gone before you did,” she admitted, not looking me in the eye. “I didn’t realize how far away the road was.”

  I sighed. “If I didn’t find you, Rabbit, you could have died from exposure.” I lifted her chin up and made her look at me. “Do you think I could have lived with myself if that happened?”

  Her chin quivered. “I didn’t think you cared. That you would just be happy I was gone. I didn’t really think you’d come look for me.”

  My heart clenched at her words. “No, Rabbit, the problem is that I care too much,” I confessed. My hands moved and cupped her cheeks, stroking the downy skin. “And, it scared me, so I said some dreadful things to push you away. But I didn’t mean them. I’m so sorry I ever said them.”

  Silently, we regarded each other. Slowly, I brought my hand around her neck and pulled her closer, my eyes never leaving hers. “Tell me you believe me, Rabbit. Tell me you forgive me,” I pleaded.

  Her whispered ‘yes’ escaped just as I crashed my mouth onto hers, pulling her against me. I poured everything I was feeling into that kiss.

  My relief.

  My apology.

  My need.

  My want.

  My desire.

  All for her.

  Her arms wound around my neck, pulling herself closer. I shifted her body and soon she was straddling my lap, our chests pressed together, hands roaming, stroking and caressing each other gently. Eventually, I pulled back and gazed down at her. My thumb traced over her bottom lip as we both struggled to catch our breath. “What about what you said? What if there is someone …?” her voice trailed off.

  I shook my head. “Later, Rabbit. We’ll deal with that later. You’re here. With me. And while you’re here, you’re mine,” I replied, my voice low. “You belong to me. Right now, you belong to me. Understand?”