The Bear With No Name (2 page)

BOOK: The Bear With No Name
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“I think I have to try.” He carefully rolled to his side, knees bent. Then he used his arms to push up. He felt a wave of dizziness, but it quickly passed.

Then Lauren noticed what he was doing.

“Dude, no! Spinal cord!” she yelped in alarm, waving her hand frantically.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he insisted.

“Says the man with complete memory loss!”

“You’re right, not okay, no. But I’m pretty sure the concussion is my only problem. And maybe a cracked rib? But I’m feeling good about my spinal cord.”

“You’re feeling good about it.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you seem to think it should be. But I guess you’re sitting up now.”

“And in a few minutes, I’m going to stand. I don’t need memory to know what those clouds mean,” he said, pointing to the ominous black wall in the southern sky.

Lauren sighed, “The rescue copter is already flying someone else to the regional trauma center. My next solution was going to be having the girls drag you out of here on a travois.”

“Let’s use the travois for the bear cub. I think I can walk.”

“We do have a wildlife rescue center in town. But the director spends a lot of time yelling at people for moving baby animals who should have been left alone...”

“He needs our help. I just have a feeling.”

“Clearly the girls are all feeling that feeling, too,” she said, looking at the six girls who hadn’t moved from the cub’s side since they found it.

Lauren took a deep breath, then set her shoulders and stood up straighter. She started barking out directions to the girls, sounding energetic, assured, and totally in control of the situation.

“Kelsey and Emily, get the hatchet from Stacey, head back into the trees, and cut down two straight saplings a bit taller than you are, and find a straight branch that’s a bit shorter. The rest of you, look in your packs. I need one tarp, and a whole bunch of rope or bungee cords. Let’s move!”

While they built the travois, the man decided he’d better make good on his promise to walk. He honestly wasn’t as confident as he’d claimed. First he moved onto his knees. Kneeling seemed go just fine. Then he put one foot in front and things were still good. But as soon as he stood, the ground seemed very, very far away. And wobbly.

He stumbled, and Lauren was there immediately to catch him. She draped his arm over her shoulders and wrapped hers around his back, supporting him from the side.

“I gotta tell you, Nameless Guy, you’re not looking great,” she said, quietly enough that the girls couldn’t hear. “You’re white as a sheet.”

“I’m not feeling great,” he confided. “But let’s try anyway. If I can’t make it you can just pop up one of your tents and leave me here until the storm passes.”

“I’m not loving that option either,” she said as she led him over to a tree that he could lean on.

In a few minutes, the woozy bear cub was loaded onto a tarp-covered frame that two girls could drag behind them. They set off down the river. Without asking if he needed it, Lauren came to prop him up again as they walked.

He felt bad for enjoying her nearness so much. He knew she was just doing what any responsible person would do, trying to help out an injured stranger. He tried not to lean too much, or turn his arm around her into a cuddle. But she was soft and warm up against his side, and she smelled amazing, and somehow he felt like he could trust her completely. The wind kept blowing wild tendrils of her hair up to his face, tempting him to lean down and nuzzle right into that glorious mass of curls.

At least her enchanting closeness provided some distraction from the pounding in his skull.

“We only have about a mile to go till we reach the edge of the Mitchell farm,” Stacey said, explaining their route. “They have a two-track that goes all the way to their back hay field, so the ambulance and all the parents will meet us there.”

It was an endless mile. Every jarring footstep was another stab of pain in his head. He was almost grateful for the gathering storm clouds because even the dim sunlight that they let through was hurting his eyes. Lauren must have been getting tired, too, because she kept leaning closer to him. He tried to stand up straighter, to take more weight off of her, but his resolve didn’t last long.

Finally they saw a line of vehicles waiting behind a low wire fence. Some of the girls had the energy to run to their parents. Those who’d spent more time dragging the bear cub on his travois trudged along at his and Lauren’s pace.

The first raindrops started falling, driven by a savage wind. The EMT came out to meet them and help them climb over the fence. Once he was on the scene, Lauren moved off. Of course, it only made sense to let the professional handle things, but he felt cold and lost without her.

As he was settled onto the gurney, he heard the parents talking about bridges being closed and homes being evacuated. He saw Kelsey’s mom give her a quick hug before tossing her gear into the car, and he was glad for their happiness, reunited to face this challenge together. A strong scent of fear emanated from the nervous crowd.

The EMT said, “Hi, I’m Pete, and I’m just going to do a quick check of your vitals.”

“Hi, Pete. I don’t know who I am, but I’m glad to meet you.”

“Must have been a nasty bump on the head.”

“Apparently.”

After checking his blood pressure, Pete took out a pen light and tested his pupillary reflexes. He seemed more and more worried as he went on.

“What, are my pupils not responding?” the man asked.

“Oh, no, not that. Everything checks out fine so far. I just... I need to go talk to Lauren. Hang in there.”

Pete pulled Lauren aside, but the man could still hear their conversation anyway.

“The Barstowe bridge is already closed to anything heavier than a car. That means heading an hour and half south to Pittsford. With the storm... Julie and the kids...” Pete trailed off, miserably.

“I’ll be fine! It’s just a concussion!” the man yelled, waving Pete and Lauren back over. “I don’t need to go to a hospital right now. There’ll be plenty of time when the storm’s over. My only symptoms are headache and some photosensitivity–”

“And amnesia!” Lauren interrupted. “Or did you forget about that?”

“My point being,” he insisted, “I really don’t think I have a hematoma. Pupillary response is normal, no slurred speech, no gait problems, I’ve been lucid since I woke up...”

Pete gave him a considering look. “Do you have medical training?” he asked.

“I have no idea. But I know you need to be with your family right now.” He locked eyes with Pete, willing him to make the right choice. He could see Pete struggle with the decision, but finally he gave in.

“Okay, no hospital. But you’re coming to stay at my house.”

“No, he can stay with me,” Lauren said. “Let’s take the bear to Fran’s and then we can all go home.”

And for all his brave words about feeling fine, the man could feel sleep trying to pull him under as soon as the ambulance hit the road. He held it off as long as he could, searching his mind for any clues to who he was or what he was doing there, but sleep won out, leaving his questions unanswered.

Chapter 4

Lauren had never seen rain like this before. It had already been a downpour by the time they made it to Fran’s; now it was more like a relentless attack of water. When Pete parked at her place, he gave her one last chance to change her mind.

“It’s okay, really,” she insisted. “I feel like he’s my responsibility. And your kids are still getting over that stomach bug.” It was as close as she could come to her real reason without seeming ridiculous. She felt like the mysterious stranger was some gift that she had been entrusted with – something precious that was hers to protect.

Lauren darted to the porch to unlock the door, gasping at the power of the deluge from the sky, while Pete helped their hiker out of the back of the ambulance.

On the porch, Pete repeated what he’d already told her: “Wake him up every two hours to make sure he’s still responsive. And you,” he said, pointing to the man, “
Be honest with her
. If there’s a problem, I want to know about it. If something goes wrong, I will regret this for the rest of my life.”

“I promise,” the man said seriously.

“Okay. Be safe, you two,” Pete said and then dashed back out into the storm and drove away.

Mrs. Randall in the bottom floor apartment must have heard the footsteps on the creaky porch, because she was already out in the foyer when they came in.

“Lauren, thank goodness! I didn’t know if you were riding out the storm at work, or what happened! And who’s this?” she said, grabbing the hiker’s hand with her frail, bony one.

“I’m not actually sure, ma’am,” he said politely.

“Injured hiker, bump on the head, we’re taking him to the hospital as soon as the storm is over,” Lauren explained.

“Well isn’t that exciting! A storm
and
a mystery! Now, if the power goes out, you just come and see me if you need any supplies. I have boxes and boxes of candles. And you should fill your bathtub with water, just in case.”

“Good advice, Mrs. R. Now I’m going to go get him in bed.”

“That’s exactly what I would do,” said the old lady, with a twinkle in her eye.

“You are awful!” Lauren joked, turning away to try to hide her blush. The mystery man chuckled.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. R,” he added as they ascended the stairs.

Once they were in her apartment and the door shut behind them, the reality of it all started to fully sink in. She was alone here with an impossibly beautiful injured man with no name. This was not a situation that she had prepared for!

He must have been feeling just as awkward, because he waved toward the sofa and said, “I don’t want to drip all over your furniture...”

Right, back to problem solving mode. She held up the bag that Pete had given her.

“Pete’s gym bag. He said there’d be some sweats that should fit you. How about you go shower and change, and then we can bandage anything that needs bandaging.”

The man disappeared into the bathroom, walking fairly steadily now, but Lauren called after him, “I just want you to know, if I hear you fall over I’m coming in there!”

“Fair enough!” he called back.

Lauren threw on some dry clothes, went to the kitchen, set some lentil soup to heating on the stove and put a frozen pizza in the toaster oven. She took time to dig out her flashlights and candles, just in case, and unpacked a few supplies from her backpack, like the camp stove. With any luck, all this preparation would be overkill. But just in case, after her shower, she would fill the tub too.

Her mystery man rejoined her soon. Pete’s sweat shorts fit him just fine, but the t-shirt was just a little tight across the chest. It was absurdly hot. So were the damp curls brushing his forehead, and his strong yet graceful hands, and even his bare feet. Lauren tried not to stare.

“Here, why don’t you eat some soup, and I can be on band-aid duty. What kind of soup person are you, mug or bowl?”

“Mug,” he said, without thinking it over.

“See, now you know something about yourself! I mean, it’s the wrong answer, ‘bowl’ should always be the answer, people who drink soup from mugs are from another planet, but at least you know!”

“What? No! I just said the first thing that popped into my head!”

“It’s like taking a multiple choice test in college – the first answer that pops into your head is usually the right answer. You don’t change it unless you have a really compelling reason.”

“But –“

“Just go with it.”

The man laughed. It was the first time she’d seen him smile or laugh, and it transformed his already handsome face into something wonderful, full of life.

He put his arm across his chest in a mock salute and said, “Thank you, fair maiden, for returning a part of my soul to me.”

“Damn straight.”

Lauren served up the soup and then grabbed her first aid kit.

“I honestly don’t think anything needs bandaging,” he said.

“Really? Nothing? Not even one band-aid? Because I don’t want you bleeding all over my stuff.”

“Well, maybe that one scrape, there on the side of my knee.”

Lauren knelt down before him.


Pshh
, yeah, that totally needs a band-aid! Or maybe two or three! That’s like a gouge!”

Lauren hoped that her banter didn’t betray the way that her heart was beating faster. Yes, she’d been closer to him than this before, when she helped him hike to the road. And yes,
god yes
, she had enjoyed it, but she’d also been extremely distracted by getting everyone out of danger. But now here they were, alone and safe, and she was about to touch him.

She unwrapped the first bandage and applied it gently, smoothing the ends out. His skin was silky and the muscles beneath it were iron-hard.

“So, do you think you might be a ‘rip the band-aid off’ person, or a ‘peel it slowly’ person?” she asked, for further distraction. He smelled clean and masculine, but also like her own herbal shampoo; it was like their smells had intertwined, like they were already tangled together in bed. She tried to shut down
that
line of thought before she blushed again.

“My gut instinct says rip it off, but I guess we’ll find out for sure in a few days,” he chuckled.

Lauren did add a couple more to the long scrape. She heard him set down his soup. When she had smoothed out the last bandage, she looked up and found him staring down at her, wide-eyed with a look that seemed almost yearning. She left her hand resting on his knee.

She cast around for some quip to break the tension of the moment. And just then, the power went out.

Lauren gasped in surprise. The man startled and sat up straight, scanning for danger, and put his hand on her shoulder in a protective way. Quickly he seemed to realize that there was no real threat, and his hand slid down and off her arm, slowly and almost regretfully.

With the lights out, the force of the storm was all the more apparent. Even though it was nearly noon, the sky was as dark as twilight. Howling wind spat rain at the windows and rattled them in their frames.

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