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Authors: Shayne McClendon

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BOOK: The Hermit
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Ryan
didn’t move, no matter how much he wanted to.  He said calmly, “Daphne.  It’s
alright.  You’re safe now.  They can’t hurt you; they can’t ever hurt you again.”

 

In
answer, she exhaled on a sob and continued, “I was afraid for them to come back. 
I was afraid they
wouldn’t
and I’d die trapped in a cage like an animal. 
All this time, I’ve done nothing but wait.  Wait to be used, tortured, given
scraps of food and drinking the water that dripped from the cave wall.”  Daphne
looked at Ryan across the room, her hand going subconsciously to the jagged
scar on her jaw, “I…I fought at first but that made them…worse.  Usually, they…they
came no less than two at a time…” 

 

She
swallowed hard, her entire body shaking hard before going completely still. 
Her eyes went cold and distant.  “Then, one day only
one
of them came.  I
pretended to want him, calling him to me.”  The small smile was filled with a
combination of satisfaction and horror.  “I…I killed him with his own knife. 
Stabbed him over and over and over, I don’t remember how many times, but I was
covered in his blood.”  Looking down at her hand, Daphne seemed surprised to
see her skin clean of the blood she remembered so vividly. 

 

“It
was the first time any of them had been so careless.  I don’t know what
happened to the other two.  I took the knife and a packet of jerky and made my
way off the mountain.  I’d been walking for almost two days, I think, before I decided
to sleep.” 

 

Ryan
wanted to hunt the remaining men down, to take them out painfully, to leave
them bleeding in the dirt as they screamed in terror.  He couldn’t look at her,
afraid she’d see the person who lived inside him.  His fists on his knees were
tight enough to leave nail marks in his palms. 

 

He dragged
much needed air into his lungs and told her, “Daphne, let me get my computer.” 
She nodded and picked up the candlestick as he stood, going into his bedroom
and returning with a laptop.  Sitting back in the chair, he worked to connect
to the Internet, going to a search engine and entering her name and that of her
husband. 

 

She
watched him read, knew he’d found information about her.  About Steven.  It seemed
like a long time before he spoke.  “There are stories about you all over the
web.  They sent out search parties for almost two months after you disappeared.” 
He glanced up and she saw the regret cross his face.  “The rangers found your
husband; they suspected foul play when they examined his…his remains.  Your
friend, Janice, still makes trips up here with her brothers to look for you.” 

 

He
found the missing person contact information, took out his satellite phone and
saved the number listed.  He held the phone out to Daphne, “You can call them
if you like.  I’ll give you the coordinates of where you are now.”

 

She
stared at his hand for a long time and he stood, moving to set the phone on the
arm of the couch.  “When you’re ready, you hit the green button.  It takes
about thirty seconds before you’ll hear it connect and start to ring.”  He
moved to a small table with a drawer across the front and took out a pen and a
piece of scrap paper.  Jotting down latitude and longitude as well as his name,
he placed it under the phone. 

 

“Everything
you need is right there.  If you remember the phone number for your friend, you
can call her, too.  Or I can look it up for you.  I’m going to go outside so
you can relax without stress for a little while.  Make yourself at home and I’m
happy to give you anything you need.”  He set the laptop on the coffee table. 
“If you want any other information, you can use this.  It won’t time out for
another thirty minutes.” 

 

He
backed to the front door and opened it, grabbing his jacket from the hook, and
shrugging it on.  As he started to turn, he murmured, “I’m so sorry for
everything you’ve been through, Daphne.  But you were right.  Everything
is
going to be fine in the end.  You’re safe now and no one is ever going to be
able to hurt you again.”  Ryan left and pulled the door closed quietly behind
him. 

 

Daphne
sipped the water, holding the candlestick to her chest.  The phone was close
enough for her to bend at the waist and pick it up.  The thought of anyone from
her old life seeing her, knowing what she’d been through…it was too much.  Not
yet. 

 

After
half an hour, she stood up and made her way slowly to the door.  “I’m not ready
yet.”

Chapter Three

 

Ryan
nodded and said, “I understand.  You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to,
Daphne.  I’ll keep you safe; let you get your legs under you.”  Gesturing to
the bathroom, he said, “You can shower if you like, the bathroom door locks
securely from the inside.” 

 

He
gave her a new toothbrush and more of his clothes, told her to use anything she
needed.  She spent a long time in the shower.  He heated stew and made tea,
sliced up dried fruit and one of the loaves of baked bread he’d made a few days
before. 

 

Ryan
told himself he wasn’t glad the broken young woman was staying a little
longer.  He’d come here for a reason and his reasons were still the same.  He
needed his solitude.  He worked to convince himself that he was helping her
because he was a doctor, because he had a responsibility.  There would be no
close examination of his inner feeling of elation when she’d said she wasn’t
ready to leave yet.  He had kept his features blank, revealing nothing. 

 

“Maybe
I need small interactions with people once in a while,” he murmured to
himself.  He was not a stupid man.  He’d seen much in his life, had loved women
and been loved in return.  His reaction to her was based on his internal drive
to protect.  No matter how much he separated himself from society, from other
human beings, there was bound to be a residual need to care. 

 

Looking
through the kitchen window at the mountains beyond, he gave a small laugh at
his idiocy.  As broken as she was, as traumatized from she’d been through, Ryan
found himself attracted to her spirit.  Against all odds, she’d survived
something few people could have.  He admired her. 

 

Fooling
himself into thinking there could ever be anything between them was
irrational.  Daphne had a long road ahead of her.  Possibly years of therapy. 

 

And
what woman in her right mind would ever want a man who’d withdrawn from the
world?  A man who carried a past filled with guilt and violence?  Shaking his
head, he returned to putting their meal on the table.  Pushing thoughts of the
woman from his mind…where she had no business being in the first place.

 

Several
minutes later, he heard the shower shut off and small shuffles as she dressed. 
When she opened the bathroom door, Daphne had a look of almost-happiness on her
face.  His clothes were enormous on her emaciated frame but she’d rolled back
the sleeves and tucked the long johns into his socks.  Her dark hair was
braided down her back. 

 

Ryan
could see she was still in pain as she moved.  She needed an internal exam and
blood work done.  Procedures he would not, could not, do here.  Until he could
get her to a facility equipped to help her, he would focus on her nutrition.

 

Walking
slowly across the room, she placed her hands on the back of the kitchen chair
and gave him a small smile.  He knew many of her teeth were broken from
violence done to her.  Others were so damaged and loose from malnourishment and
neglect that it would be a miracle if she was ultimately able to salvage them. 

 

He’d
seen the missing person flier.  She had never been what society would call
beautiful, her features were too square, her mouth too wide, her body more
athletic than feminine.  But at one time Daphne had been healthy and fit.  Her
hair had been thick and shiny.  Her teeth perfect.

 

She
raised her eyes to look at him.  “I haven’t had a shower in so
long
; I almost
forgot what to do in there.”  Clearing her throat, she added, “I…thank you…and
I’m sorry I’m afraid.”

 

“Daphne,
I don’t blame you.  I don’t.  Please don’t apologize.”  He placed their food on
opposite sides of the table, giving her a barrier between them.  She sat,
wincing from what were likely internal injuries that already worried him. 
“I’ve been giving you vitamin and antibiotic injections since I found you.  How
are you feeling physically?”

 

Shrugging
one thin shoulder, she didn’t look at him as she answered.  “I hurt.  Inside. 
Months now.”  He watched as she swallowed hard.  “I…I promise to tell you if
anything changes.”  He gave her a nod and motioned for her to eat. 

 

Throughout
the meal, he talked about what had happened around the world in the two years
she’d been held captive.  She didn’t speak, simply listened, but she managed
small portions of the food and sips of the water.  Enough that he was
satisfied.  He wanted to get her body used to food before she headed back to
civilization.  He gave her a sealed vitamin packet and she took the pills. 

 

After
Ryan had put away five times the amount of food Daphne could manage, he did the
dishes while she remained at the table.  He could feel her watching him, sensed
her battle against the fear she didn’t want to feel.

 

When
he asked, she allowed him to take her vitals.  Though she shook the entire
time, she stayed in the chair with the makeshift weapon gripped tightly in her
hand, and he touched her as little as possible.  Ryan noted that her eyes were
clearing, the warm brown less cloudy, and the whites less bloodshot.  He
maintained a steady stream of meaningless chatter about wildlife he’d seen
around his cabin over the years until he was able to step away and return his
supplies to his medical bag.

 

“I’m
going to bring in some wood and check the generator.  Consider this your home,
Daphne, as long as you need it to be one.  I’m not going further than the work
shed attached to the cabin if you need me.”  She nodded and watched him leave,
wondering why a man like Ryan was up here in the Alaskan wilds alone. 

 

 

Over
the next days, Ryan didn’t push.  He didn’t question or delay in calling the
people who still searched for her.  Instead, he gave Daphne time alone each morning
and afternoon to make the calls if she decided she was ready. 

 

She
still didn’t talk much unless spoken to directly but she began to noticeably relax
around him.  She stopped carrying the candlestick everywhere with her and
didn’t flinch when he stood up or walked toward her. 

 

At the
end of her first week awake, she carefully stepped up to help with dishes after
they finished dinner.  As she became comfortable around him, he noticed that only
sudden movements truly startled her.  When a glass toppled from the countertop,
Ryan’s hand shot down and caught it.  Standing back up to his full height, he
realized she was plastered against the counter several feet away. 

 

“I’m
sorry, Daphne.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”  He pointed to her feet in his socks,
“I was worried about the glass breaking.  You’re not wearing shoes.” 

 

She nodded
slowly and he watched as she forced her muscles to relax one at a time until
she could move back to the counter again.  After several controlled breaths,
she went back to drying dishes.  Later, he was happy to see her step out onto
the porch as he was bringing in wood.  Perching carefully against the railing,
she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

 

The
sound of his foot on the bottom step brought her eyes open.  “It surprises me
that I still find it so beautiful here.”

 

“The
place isn’t to blame.  Scum was responsible for what happened to you and your
husband.  I’m glad you still see the beauty around you.”  Ryan gave her a small
nod and moved into the house, saying over his shoulder, “I’m going to make
lunch soon.  Pull on one of my heavier coats if you’re going to stay out for a
bit.”  Before she could, he reached just inside the door, his arm coming out
with a jacket lined in sheep skin.  “This should keep you snug.” 

 

“Thank
you.  Again.  Thank you again, Ryan.”

 

“My
pleasure, Daphne.  Let me put this wood down and make you some food.”  Then he
was gone and she tracked his movements around the small cabin. 

 

Instead
of seeing the scenery around her, she contemplated the man inside.  Ryan
Wallace was an enigma to her.  Not even Steven had treated her as kindly.  Part
of her felt disloyal thinking negative thoughts of her dead husband but the
part that had come into being during her time as a captive realized in
hindsight that Steven had been something of a misogynist ass. 

BOOK: The Hermit
6.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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