Page 13 of Mountain Defender

She pauses. Sniffs. Shudders in my arms. “I… I don’t remember.”

“What?”

“I don’t remember,” she repeats. “I don’t know why I was out there.”

A chill that has nothing to do with the temperature encases my lungs.

“What do you mean?” I ask in a careful tone.

More tears escape, leaking down Rory’s cheeks. Two white teeth dig into her lower lip. “The last thing I remember was getting ready for bed. I don’t remember anything after that.”

“You don’t remember going outside? Or anyone?—”

“No.” She shakes her head vehemently, wincing as she does it. “I don’t remember any of it.” Then she buries her face in my neck, wetting my skin with her tears. “I don’t know what happened. And I’m….”

That ever-present belt around my chest wrenches tighter. “What, Ror?”

A few seconds go by before she answers. “I’m scared, Gage.”

Oh.

Protectiveness like I’ve never felt before sweeps through me.

“It’s okay,” I reply, while feeling anything but. “We’ll figure it out.”

Her eyes meet mine again, wide and pleading. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Ror.” My chest squeezes. “Of course I will.”

CHAPTER 3

RORY

I never wantedto be in the hospital again.

Unrealistic? Maybe.

Still. I hoped, at least.

But in all the times I thought it might be unavoidable—like the time I tripped over Elmore and twisted my ankle, the food poisoning I got three years ago, or the rusty nail I stepped on while trying to clean out the barn—I never imagined ending up here without any memory of how or why.

That’s what makes this whole thing doubly frightening. It would be scary enough with my injuries alone—minor concussion, bruised ribs and trachea, and more cuts and scrapes than I can count—but not even knowing how I got them?

It’s terrifying; even though I’m doing my best to hide it.

While the emergency room doctor examined me, it was a little easier to keep up a good front. I could focus on the clinical part of it, the tests and diagnostic questions, while shoving my turbulent emotions to the side. Listening to the doctor rattle off vital signs and X-ray results was far easier than letting mymind wander to those missing hours between bedtime and this morning.

But now that I’m alone in the hospital room again, all those scary thoughts come rushing back in.

How did I end up in the woods?

Why would I have gone out there?

Who hit me hard enough to give me a concussion? Whose fingerprints made a ring of bruises around my neck?

And the scariest question of all—why can’t I remember?

The doctor said it’s normal to experience a loss of memory after a head injury. Especially if the events leading up to it were traumatic, which I think it’s safe to assume they were. He didn’t come right and say,well, it looks like someone tried to kill you, but what other explanation can there be? I was punched in the head. Kicked in the ribs, if the foot-sized bruise on my side is any indication, and it couldn’t be more obvious that someone tried to strangle me.

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