Lucy pattered across crisp leaves in a pacing rhythm as if she were circling them. At least she hoped it was Lucy. Jennie could see nothing but dark forms against a darker backdrop now.
A light bobbed through the woods again. “Hey, it’s just me. Lucy, settle down.”
Jennie had a feeling Corisa was the least of the dog’s worries. Lucy kept barking. She gave one final warning, then came back to check on the girls. She’d apparently frightened away whatever—or whoever—had been out there.
“I couldn’t find the phone,” Corisa said. “Looked everywhere. You brought it, didn’t you? I remember Dad handing it to you at the house.” She looked back at Jennie. “We’re on our wilderness trek and are supposed to be roughing it. Dad took our iPhones, but Dad gave us a special phone to use in case of an emergency.”
“Of course.” Brandy answered.
“You didn’t leave it in the car, did you?” Dad will have to drive all of the way back out here. He will not be hap—”
“Oh no,” Brandy interrupted. “I left it in the garage. I set it down on some boxes to grab the cooler. I was gonna go back and get it, but—”
“Dad is going to go ballistic when he finds out we don’t have it. And how are we going to call for help?”
“I’m sorry,” Brandy sighed. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Okay, let’s not panic. I’m sure Dad will know something is wrong when he calls and we don’t answer.”
“What are we going to do about … her?”
“We’ll figure something out. But first we have to get her to the cabin. It’s getting colder by the minute. I brought a couple of blankets. We’ll put the heavy wool one under her. Did she tell you her name?”
“Not yet. It hurts her to talk.”
It did hurt to talk, but that wasn’t all. Jennie honestly didn’t know how to answer their questions. As strange as it seemed, she had no idea how she’d ended up in the woods or how she’d been hurt. She couldn’t tell them her name because she didn’t know it.
“Did you bring the water?” Brandy asked. “That might help.”
“Yeah, and a straw.” Corisa sank to her knees and placed the straw in Jennie’s mouth.
Jennie drew in several swallows. She’d never tasted anything so good in her life. Water dribbled out of her mouth, running along her jaw and into her hair. Jennie cleared her throat and murmured another thank you.
“No problem.” Looking Jennie over, a worried look crossed Corisa’s face. “It might hurt when we move you, but we have to. Can’t let you stay out here all night. It’s supposed to get below freezing tonight. I’m worried about your neck, though. I mean, it could be broken.”
“I don’t think so,” Jennie managed to tell them. “It hurts, but I can move everything.”
“Okay, I guess we don’t have much choice. We’ll put these blankets under you and carry you to the house.”
“You’ll be comfortable there until we can get some help,” Brandy said.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you,” Corisa added.
Jennie braced herself for the move, clenching her teeth when the pain came. Trying to hold her body without twisting, they rolled her onto her right side, then bunched the blanket against her back. They moved around to her back and carefully rolled Jennie over the lump of blanket and onto her left side. Moving her as little as possible, they straightened the blanket underneath her. With Corisa at her head and Brandy at her feet, they began the trek out of the woods. Twice they had to lay her back down and rest.
“We’re almost there,” Corisa told her. “I hope we’re not hurting you too much.”
“Not too bad,” Jennie gasped. “Getting used to it.”
But she wasn’t. Every movement seemed worse than the last. Considering the alternative, though, Jennie wasn’t about to complain. Anything was better than being out in the woods alone all night.
They eventually reached a clearing where a yard light spread out a welcoming aura.
When Jennie saw the three buildings she let out a sharp gasp and grabbed at the sides of the blanket. “Wait!” she panted. “Something’s wrong.”
“It’s okay,” Corisa reassured her. “You don’t have to be afraid. This is our cabin. You’ll be safe here.”
“No someone …” Jennie pinched her eyes shut. An image flitted in and out of her mind so quickly she couldn’t grasp it. She only knew it was terrible. What’s wrong with me? I’m more scared here than I was in the woods. She’d never been here before, yet there was something about it. Something terrifying.
“What’s that?” A stained-glass window in the smallest of the buildings caught her eye.
Corisa and Brandy must have followed her gaze. They both laughed.
“That’s our outhouse,” Brandy explained. “When our parents first bought the land, we used to pitch a tent and camp out here. They decided they needed an outhouse. At first Dad just dug a pit and put some boards around it. By the next year we had a septic tank, a well, a real toilet, and a shower, and Mom made the stained-glass window for the door. Then Dad had to have a place for all his tools and equipment, so he built the shed. And now we have the house.”
“Enough already,” Corisa said, giving Jennie an apologetic glance.
Jennie’s panic subsided as they neared the house and the lighted windows. She was cold, and the cabin would be a warm and welcome relief.
There’s nothing to be afraid of, Jennie told herself. Like Corisa said, you’re safe. Only Jennie didn’t feel safe. Not at all.
They entered the cabin, and Corisa again reassured Jennie. She bolted the door for extra security. Once the girls had placed Jennie in the bed in their parents’ main-floor bedroom, the worst of Jennie’s fears slipped away. She didn’t understand why she’d reacted as she had. There was certainly nothing frightening about the place. In fact, it was one of the nicest cabins Jennie had ever seen. The girls had taken off the beige Matisse bedcover and pillow shams and covered the clean sheets with the blanket they’d brought her in on. Corisa piled several pillows behind Jennie’s head.
Brandy came in with hot chocolates, and within a few minutes the questions started again.
After a couple sips of the wonderfully warm drink, Jennie tried to explain. “I wish I could answer you, but I don’t remember.”
“Not anything?” Brandy asked. “Not even your name?”
“Nothing.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that right now.” Corisa set her cup on the nightstand. “You got a nasty bump on your head. Probably a concussion with temporary amnesia.”
“Temporary amnesia?” Brandy repeated. “Like you’d really know. Quit acting like you’re some kind of doctor.”
“I’m not.” Corisa folded her arms. “But I do know some things.” Turning to Jennie she added, “I’ve had some first-aid classes, and I plan to go to medical school.”
Brandy rested a hip on the end of the bed. “I’ve had first aid too.” Her expression softened as she shifted her attention back to Jennie. “Do you think you have amnesia?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Corisa bit her bottom lip. “Oh, Brandy, what a time for you to forget the phone. She really needs to be in the hospital.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I wish there was some way to get you out of here.” Corisa tipped her head back.
“Don’t you have a car?” Jennie didn’t remember seeing one when they came in.
“No. Dad dropped us off. He and Mom will be back in a couple days.”
“We have our bikes,” Brandy said. “Maybe one of us could go out to the main road and flag down a car.”
“Good idea, but not tonight. It’s too far. We can’t risk it.”
Brandy got off the bed and began pacing. “I wish there was something we could do now.”
“I guess I could try to make it out tonight,” Corisa offered. “I’d have to rig some kind of light on my bike. I should be able to reach the ranger station within a couple of hours.”
“How far is it?” Jennie asked.
“About fifteen miles.”
“You’re right. That’s too far.” Jennie put her hand on Corisa’s arm. “I’ll be okay. My head feels better already.”
Relief flooded Corisa’s gray eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’d probably get a worse headache worrying about you. Besides, you said your dad might be coming back when he realizes you don’t have the phone.”
“Right. He could even be out tonight.” Brandy frowned. “Of course, if he’s working on a project, he might not even call tonight. He’s an architect.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Corisa sounded more sure of herself now. “I can ride out first thing in the morning. Once I get to the main road, I should easily be able to find someone to help us.”
With that settled, Jennie closed her eyes. The warm room and hot chocolate made her sleepy. “Sorry. I’m really tired.”
“Guess we should let you rest.” Corisa’s gaze traveled from Jennie’s head to her jacket and lingered there a moment. She seemed puzzled about something. Finally she focused on the white T-shirt still tied around Jennie’s leg. “First, though, I think we should clean you up and look at your leg. We should put something on it so it doesn’t get infected.”
When they went to help Jennie remove her jeans, she stopped them. “I think you should cut them off.”
“Like they do on ER.” Brandy nodded. “Good idea. I’ll get some scissors.”
“A couple of towels too,” Jennie said. “The material is plastered to my skin. When you pull it off, the scab will come, too, and it’ll start bleeding again.”
Corisa gave her an odd look. “You sound like you’ve had experience with this sort of thing.”
Jennie frowned. “I don’t know … maybe.”
“I’ll get the first-aid kit.” For a moment Corisa looked as if she didn’t quite believe her; then she shrugged and left the room.
Several minutes later Jennie’s torn jeans had been cut away and towels had been placed under her leg. Jennie gritted her teeth and held on to the bedclothes while Corisa eased off the square of material still attached to the wound on Jennie’s thigh.
“Just pull it off,” Jennie begged. Hot, searing pain ripped through her as they gave it a final yank.
“She was right. It’s bleeding again.”
“Put pressure on it,” Jennie hissed.
“I am.” Corisa pressed a clean towel over it.
When the bleeding stopped and Corisa removed the towel, Jennie got her first real look at the wound. It looked as though something had sliced through the side of her leg, taking out about an inch-wide chunk. “I’ve been shot.”
“You … you’re kidding, r-right?” Brandy stammered.
“Are you remembering what happened?” Corisa tucked the bloodied towel against Jennie’s outer thigh.
“No.” Jennie drew her hands down her face. Tears gathered in her eyes. “I just know.”
“Please don’t cry.” Brandy touched her shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
Corisa smiled. “Right. Dad might be on his way out here. Maybe he called and realizes we don’t have the phone. If he thinks we’re in trouble he’ll either come out himself or send the ranger or one of the neighbors to check on us.”
“We’ll take care of you until then. I’ll bet by tomorrow you’ll feel better and be able to remember everything.”
“M-maybe it won’t be as bad as it looks.” Corisa’s words and the worry in her eyes didn’t match. She opened the bottle of hydrogen peroxide she’d brought in. “This is gonna hurt.”
“I know, but it’ll kill the germs. Go ahead.” Jennie tipped her head back and braced herself for the burning pain. The clear liquid bubbled white as it hit her wound and soaked into the towel. Corisa kept apologizing as she used a sterile gauze to mop up the excess fluid and finished putting a dressing on it.
Once they’d gotten Jennie cleaned up and into a pair of Corisa’s pajamas, the girls shut off the bedroom light and closed the door, leaving Jennie alone to rest, promising to check on her every couple of hours during the night.
The partially closed blinds allowed just enough light into the room to take the edge off the darkness. Jennie began to relax. Her head ached, but not as severely. Maybe Brandy and Corisa were right. After a good night’s sleep, she’d feel better.
Jennie had almost fallen asleep when she heard footsteps outside. She opened her eyes as a shadow figure passed by the bedroom window.