Another Dawn (5 page)

      
She shook her head, and sharp pain stabbed through her skull. "Oh."
 
She pressed the bloodied handkerchief to her temple then removed it, relieved to find it dry.
 

      
"The bleeding's stopped, but you must have one helluva headache."
 
His voice gentler now, he dropped his hands to his sides.

      
Immediately, she missed the warmth of his touch. Bereft. Yes, that was how she felt. If she could remember vocabulary, then why couldn't she remember her own name? "Please tell me what happened and who you are. Who I am..."

      
"Try very hard to remember."
 
His nostrils flared and the expression in his gray eyes grew even more intense. "Please, just try."

      
"I
am
trying, but there's nothing."
 
She watched him standing there, his black robe fluttering in the chilly wind. Every inch of his exposed skin was fiery red, and his sunburned head was almost comical. He certainly didn't look like a priest. Then again, how would she know? "I really don't remember anything," she said again.

      
"Try."

      
Why was he pushing so hard for her to remember? It would be so much simpler if he would just
tell
her everything. Biting her lower lip, she drew a calming breath. This man was a priest, and he was obviously trying to help her. His insistence was for her own good–maybe he knew something about head injuries. Besides, she had no choice but to trust him.

      
She closed her eyes. Words and images flew by, barely eluding her, indistinguishable. The unexpected touch of his fingertips on her wrist surprised her, and she jerked her eyes open to watch him. He turned her hand over in his, then slipped his finger under a shiny, silver bracelet dangling from her wrist.

      
"This says your name is Sofie," he said quietly, looking at her with an intensity that stole her breath. "You still can't remember?"

      
"No, nothing. Sofie," she whispered, testing the sound of it on her lips. It felt right, sounded right. "What about my
 
last name?" She squinted, trying to focus on the bracelet, but her vision blurred.

      
His brow furrowed and he drew a deep breath. "No last name here."
 
He turned the silver rectangle over until the chain pulled the fine hairs on her forearm.

      
"Ouch."

      
Instantly, he dropped the bracelet. "Sorry."
 
His voice seemed harsher now and he leaned toward her, peering into her eyes as if probing for something. "How do you spell it?" he asked, his gaze narrowing. "S-O-P-H-I-E?"

      
"No, with an F," she corrected, wondering how she could be so certain.

      
Several seconds of silence passed as he continued to stare, broadcasting accusation and suspicion. His extreme scrutiny made her feel as if she were on trial. This trust thing definitely wasn't reciprocal.

      
"Tell me, Sofie," he began, gripping her upper arms again, "if you remember the unusual spelling for your name, why can't you remember anything else?"

      
Bewildered, she licked her lips and wished her head would stop pounding. "I...I don't know."
 
He obviously didn't believe her, yet why would she lie about losing her memory? Why would anyone? He didn't trust her. Was she a bad person? "I only remember opening my eyes in that cave–was it a cave?"

      
His eyes closed and he released her again. As he straightened and reopened his eyes, the lines on his sunburned forehead smoothed. "Yes, sort of," he said. His adam's apple worked up and down in his throat.

      
At least he seemed to believe her now, though she couldn't imagine why he hadn't earlier.
 

      
He made a snorting sound and opened the leather pouch at his waist. "Well, look here."
 
He withdrew a small white vial. "Aspirin for your headache."
 
After tipping two white pills into his hand, he passed them to her and continued to search through his belongings.

      
He acted as if he didn't know what the pouch contained. How odd. Of course, who was she to question anyone's memory? Maybe she would remember more later. The correct spelling of her first name had come to her, after all. Eventually, other things would follow. Wouldn't they?

      
But since she'd remembered something on her own, perhaps now he would tell her. "Will you please tell me my last name now?" Maybe hearing it would jar the rest of her memory.

      
He shook his head slowly, and something resembling compassion softened his expression. "I really don't know. I'm
 
sorry."

      
Frustrated, she sighed, staring at the aspirin in her open palm. She remembered aspirin was for pain and fever, but she needed water to swallow it. With a sigh, she dropped it into her pocket for later.

      
She looked at him, wishing he would suddenly reveal this was all nothing more than a cruel hoax, and that he really did know her name. "I guess if you don't know my name, then you don't know where I live either."

      
"Nope."
 
He turned away and looked toward the town again. A fine mist started to fall from the heavy clouds and the temperature dropped a few more degrees. "We'd better get moving," he said, then looked at her again. "Did you take the aspirin?"

      
"No water."

      
"Oh, yeah. That's right."
 
He looked up at the sky and sighed. "This is lousy hiking weather, and I've known it to snow in the high country this time of year."

      
"Snow?" Had they survived one disaster only to fall victim to another? "I guess we'd better hurry."

      
"Yeah, that
was
my plan," he muttered, offering her his hand. "Let's go."

      
Sofie looked at his hand–a hand belonging to the man who had saved her from certain death in that cave. "You may not know my name, but you must know yours."
 
She made a halfhearted effort to smile as she placed her hand in his and met his gaze.

      
His breaths came in rapid succession, filling the air around them with white vapor. "Father Salazar," he finally said in a strained voice. Thunder rumbled overhead as if to punctuate his introduction, then the sky burst open with a deluge. Without another word, he started up the rocky incline, dragging her along.
 

      
She struggled to keep pace, stumbling several times before they reached the top. The wind drove the rain harder now, whipping it into their faces.

      
"How much farther?" she shouted into the wind.

      
He paused, and she saw the dark shape of his head through the rain as he turned to look down at her. His expression was blurred by the watery curtain, but she figured he probably didn't appreciate her stopping at this point, even for a moment.
 

      
Without bothering to answer her question, he picked his way along, never releasing her hand. The sky darkened even more and the storm worsened, shrouding Father Salazar's dark shape–so close, yet so far. She clung to his wet hand, praying his status as a priest would grant them a miracle.

      
Like sand, the raindrops stung her icy cheeks until they felt like raw meat. Her feet had long since turned numb, as had the tip of her nose. Only her hands still had feeling–one tucked trustingly into Father Salazar's and the other shoved deep into the pocket of her dirty white blazer.

      
Their pace slowed and Sofie's fear mounted. With visibility practically zero, they could be moving farther away from the town, rather than toward it. God, they were going to die and she couldn't even remember her name. Did she have a family? Would anyone miss her?

      
Scalding tears pricked her eyelids, but she blinked them away. The last thing she needed now was any more water on her skin.

      
Weariness pressed down on her and her head felt as if it would explode.
Explode..
. Then she remembered the loud, thundering noises in the cave where she'd been injured. What was that place, and why had she been there?

      
A wave of dizziness gripped her and she lost her savior's hand. What little she could see turned to blackness and she felt herself falling. She slid down a slope and hard gravel ground into her already raw face, but she was too weak to struggle. No more. She couldn't take another step.

      
This was the end. She would die up here in the wilderness without even knowing her name.

      
Luke felt her hand slip from his grasp and he stopped to look back. Rain fell so hard he could barely see his own hand, let alone Sofie. She could have tumbled down the mountainside without his knowing, the sound of her cries muffled by the raging storm.

      
And why should he care? Why should he continue to risk his own life for hers?

      
"Damn."
 
Why didn't matter, because he couldn't leave her out here in this. No one deserved to be left alone to die in the wilderness.

      
Or in the electric chair.

      
Luke swallowed. Hard. It didn't help. Despite the frigid rain, the heat of electrocution flashed through him again. He shivered as hot and cold swept through him intermittently.
 

      
His breath came in rapid bursts as he stared back through the rain, hoping for yet fearing a glimpse of Sofie. The thought of her name brought a pang of regret and he closed his eyes. He couldn't leave her here. She was almost as much a victim in this mess as he.

      
And she cried for me.

      
"Shit."
 
He lowered his chin to his chest and forced his eyes open.
Wimp
. Gritting his teeth, he dropped to the ground and felt his way back a few feet. At first, the rain had stung his raw scalp and face like fire, but all he felt now were the flames of remorse in his gut.

      
If he didn't find her within a few minutes, he'd have to go on without her. At least by trying to find her, he might appease his guilt later. Still, he knew the memory of her tears would haunt him forever.

      
Unless the cops found him and saved him the trouble of
 
forever.
 

      
He brushed against something rough. A rock. The wind and rain weren't as bad here, partially blocked by the rocky wall. Good news and bad news, since he couldn't remember passing this before. Where was Sofie?

      
Carefully, he turned until his feet were against the rock, then he crawled straight out from it, slowly picking his way. He blinked several times when he realized the ground took a slight drop. How far down? After a moment, he determined it was only a slight incline–just enough to hide Sofie in the storm. As he drew closer, he made out the shape of her dark hair and scrambled toward her.

      
Leaning close, he felt her neck for a pulse. She was alive, but unconscious. He slid one arm behind her shoulders and the other under her knees and lifted. Her weight made him stagger as he pushed to his feet. They'd both been through hell today, and he was ready to pass out right beside her.

      
But he couldn't, dammit. He had to keep going until he found help for her and freedom for himself.
Freedom
. The mere thought of it gave him strength and he trudged back toward the rock wall.

      
He moved carefully, hoping they wouldn't end up tumbling all the way down the mountain. When he found the wall again, it brought welcome shelter from the wind and some of the rain. He adjusted his burden and turned his back against the cliff, inching his way along, tentatively testing the ground with his foot for any sudden drops.