Page 8 of Kian

“I can’t believe whoever it was took everything from you. They didn’t want you to be identified for some reason. Did you have a weapon?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, as I said before, it will come back to you.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I’m not. Some people never regain their memories, but I hope I’m not one of them.”

“I wonder where it was you were shot. This land is posted, so if anyone was hunting, they were doing it illegally, but there is public land not far from here.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“I’ve lived in Clifton my entire life, but as for the cabin, I’ve lived here almost three years, it was left to me by an uncle. I fell in love with it, but I had it restored and modernized.”

“It’s nice. I’m glad you were here. Are you married?”

“I’m divorced. I have been for a little over three years now. Casteel is my maiden name. I took it back.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an artist. That’s one reason why I put a lot of time into this place. I need the solitude when I’m painting.” She pointed to several easels in front of the window.

“That’s a lot of easels.”

“I paint several at the same time.”

“How?”

Gretchen smiled. “I’ll be painting and get an idea for another one and start on it. A lot of artists who do oil-based paintings do more than one at a time.”

“I don’t know how you don’t get confused, but of course, you see what you’re painting.”

“Right.”

He spooned some soup into his mouth. “This is so good. I don’t know when I last ate,” he said. “Literally.”

Gretchen laughed. “I can’t argue with that. I have more if you want it.”

“I think I’ll have more, but later if that’s alright with you. My head feels like it was hit with a sledgehammer.”

“At first, I thought you might have a concussion, but you’re talking coherently, so it’s probably not one. Either someone hityou on the back of the head or you fell and hit it on a rock or something. I can get you some more acetaminophen in about another hour.”

“Yes, ma’am. I appreciate it.” He placed the empty bowl on the table and lay back down.

“Get some rest, it’s the best thing for you. I can show you to the bedroom, if you’d like.”

“Could I just stay here for a while? The fire feels good and I’m still a little cold.”

“Of course. Let me get a pillow for you.” She got up, walked to the spare bedroom and removed the pillow from the bed, then went back to the living room.

“Do you think you could sit up again? I’ll help you with the shirt. There’s no way you’ll be able to get it on yourself.”

“Okay.” He grunted as he sat up then clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. How do you want to do this?”

“Let me slide the sleeve up your right arm, move it over your head, then you can put your left arm into it.”

---