Page 6 of Kian

“A snowstorm is moving through, and it will be too hazardous to be out. You’re safe here.”

“Where is here?” He frowned. “I know it’s your cabin but where is your cabin.”

“Clifton, Montana.”

She watched a frown mar his brow.

“That doesn’t sound familiar to me.”

“Just don’t push it. Are you hungry? I can make you some soup.”

“I think I am.”

Gretchen smiled. “If you think you are, then a meal won’t hurt, right?”

“Right. What’s your name?”

“Gretchen Casteel.”

“Gretchen. That’s a pretty name. Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re very welcome. Lobo helped.”

“Lobo?”

“My dog. He found you. Lobo, come here.”

The big dog walked toward her and sat beside her.

“This is Lobo. He’s a four-year-old Malamute.”

“He’s a big dog.” The man started to put his hand, but inhaledsharply at the pain, then reached out toward the dog with his left hand. Once Lobo stepped closer, the man rubbed his head. “You’re a good boy, Lobo. I’d still be out there if not for you. I promise you, once I get better, you will get a sixteen-ounce steak.” He winced when Lobo barked.

“Lobo, hush. I’m sorry. He barks when he’s happy. I’ll try to keep him quiet. I know that bark hurts your head.”

Gretchen tore her eyes away from him. The man was incredibly handsome. She couldn’t help but think, if he couldn’t remember anything, maybe that was for the best. He could be a bad person on the run. Maybe police shot him, but that didn’t make sense. Law enforcement would continue to track him, even after he was shot.

“I don’t think you were shot where we found you.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you were running from the law, they would have tracked you, and possibly came here to see if I had any information. You were on my property but that’s not where you were shot. There was no blood around where we found you, only from where your head was in the snow. If someone put you there, any trail of blood is under the snow.”

“I’m not running from the law,” he said, then frowned. “Am I?”

“Like I said, don’t push it. Your memory will return in its own time.” She glanced toward the kitchen when she heard the washer signaling it was done. “I need to put your clothes in the dryer. I have a pair of sweatpants that belonged to my uncle.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“After I do that, I’ll make you some soup. That will warm you up.”

“I can’t thank you enough for all you’re doing for me.”

“What was I supposed to do? Leave you out there to freeze to death?”

“No, ma’am, I suppose not.”

“Just rest. I’ll be back with your soup in a few minutes.”

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