Chapter 6 C6

Ryan

Two weeks have passed since I carried Ana's unconscious body into the cabin. Ever since she mentioned the helicopter crash, I've been spending all the daylight hours out looking for it under the guise of hunting or fishing. I take the key to the cabin and the key to my desk drawer with me. There are things in that drawer that I'd rather no one saw, myself included.

As I head out on my ATV for the fourth day in a row, I again try to figure out which direction she came from. My last three days of searching turned up nothing. She was in pretty bad shape when I found her, but I have no idea how mobile and healthy she was right after the crash. How far could she have walked in the snow, in these temperatures, in the clothing she was wearing?

Sometimes I wish I still had access to the internet to answer obscure questions such as these, but otherwise I don't miss the internet much at all. When I moved up here, the equipment and services required to establish an internet connection at the cabin seemed like too much work. During my time in Afghanistan, we didn't usually have internet access. It didn't seem necessary for life out here. Also, I didn't want the connection to the outside world that the internet would bring. I'd get rid of the sat phone in a heartbeat if I didn't need it to order supplies.

Like the three days prior, I spend the majority of the daylight hours searching for the helicopter Ana claims to have been on. I wonder if I'm looking for it because I really believe it could be out here, or because I'm latching on to anything that keeps me away from her. Not that there's anything wrong with her. She's a little odd and closed off, but I imagine I'm probably much the same way. Probably to a greater extreme. She seems just as determined to keep her existence a secret as I am. I've been taking every chance I can to avoid being around her. I'm bothered on a subconscious level any time she's looking at me. I know she can't see the scars I'm hiding, but anyone looking at me is still uncomfortably disconcerting. It makes me want to hide from her. I'm still holding on to the hope that she'll suddenly decide she doesn't want to stick around my place any longer and leave. I don't think she knows enough to tell anyone anything that would lead to my discovery, but if she's involved with law enforcement somehow and they decide to come calling, that could be a problem.

Something else about her that's started bothering me is that she's really quite attractive. In the past few days, she's recovered significantly from her near brush with death. Without the sickly pallor, she's striking. Saph was striking too, but Ana's beauty is entirely different. Saph was all things light and airy. She was tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and willowy but with curves. She acted as though life were a joke and the world existed to please her. Ana is much darker, from her olive-toned skin to her dark brown hair and eyes to her serious nature. Sometimes when I ask a question she refuses to answer, I see a darkness inside her that threatens to overtake her. Even when Ana is acting carefree and cheerful, there's still a shadow that hangs about her.

There's also something infinitely more genuine about Ana. I don't think I ever saw Saph when she wasn't looking her best. Ana's beauty is understated but natural. I've also seen her hovering on the verge of death. She seems much more real than Saph ever did.

Just as I'm about to call it a day and head back home, I find what I've been searching for in a small clearing. I stare at the scene ahead of me in disbelief. I think part of me was still convinced that this was all in her head. But the battered helicopter lying in the snow proves Ana's claims.

Despite the fact the landing was clearly more of a crash than a gentle touch down, the wreckage doesn't look too bad. The helicopter seems to be in one piece. It looks as though the rotor blades may have sheared off when they struck the ground, which indicates that the engine may have still been powering the blades upon impact. Perhaps the pilots did still have some control of the vehicle just before the crash. I don't see any major dents that indicate the helicopter impacted with a significant amount of force or bounced or rolled after landing. I doubt anyone was killed. Ana only had a slight bump on her forehead.

As I drive closer, what I find chills me. The scene is horrific. There were three other people in the helicopter with her. Two were pilots and the third was a US Marshal, judging by the jacket on his body. All are dead. The pilots are both in the front seats with gunshot wounds to the head. The marshal seems to have been shot several times in the chest and once in the head, execution style. His body is several yards away from the downed chopper. His cold hand is still holding his gun. I unconsciously finger the pistol at my side.

US Marshals operate the Witness Protection Program. She's a witness. Someone really is after her and they are capable of causing this.

I am grateful for her sake that she doesn't seem to remember the crash. From the way the scene is laid out, it appears that the pilots were killed while they were securing the vehicle. Bullet holes in the side of the vehicle leaked fuel onto the snow beneath. The helicopter must have been shot out of the sky. After the somewhat rough landing, Ana and the marshal left the vehicle and fled into the woods. He tried to give her cover, but was killed. I walk toward the forest in the direction the marshal and Ana were running. Bullets are embedded in tree trunks. I don't know how she managed to get away. The marshal must have put up a pretty good fight and given her enough time to disappear into the woods.

With a sinking feeling in my gut, I check the wallet of the US Marshal. Johnston Stevens . I run a hand over my face. The man she was asking about that first time we spoke was the man assigned to protect her. The same one who also seems to have given his life for her.

The site is a good 15 miles from my cabin. How she managed to make it all the way from the crash site is nothing short of a miracle. Suddenly I wonder if leaving her alone in the cabin for all this time was a good idea. The people who did this are ruthless. They haven't found her yet, so they must know she's still out here somewhere. It's been two weeks, but I'd bet they are still out here somewhere looking for her. What if they find the cabin? What if they find Ana there alone with nothing more to protect her than a hunting knife? An icy chill runs through my body.

I hop back on the ATV and speed off toward home. I don't plan on venturing out of sight of the cabin any time soon. There's no way I'm going to kick her out of my cabin either. If these people find her, which they probably would, she'll be dead.

When I open the door to find her standing in the kitchen, I breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

She's safe, for now . She smiles at me.

"You didn't bag anything today, did you?" she asks, clearly already knowing the answer.

I act put out, like I'd actually been hunting for the past four days. After seeing what happened at the crash site, I don't think it's a good idea to tell her that I found it or that I've been looking for it.

"Well, I made dinner," she says. "You don't exactly have any cookbooks lying around, so I just sort of made something up. I don't really cook, but it's better than -"

She stops and looks at me. I feel my left eyebrow raise.

"You don't like my cooking?" I ask.

Her mouth twists into a wry grin. "Not that I'm not grateful, but it really leaves something to be desired."

She places one plate on the table, in front of the chair faced away from the couch, and places the second on the coffee table. Ever since the day she made pancakes and kept her promise to leave me alone while the mask was off, we've eaten meals in the same manner. She hasn't asked any more questions about my injuries and hasn't mentioned the mask.

"Would you like a cookbook?"

She stops dishing out dinner onto my plate and looks up at me. "Can you get one?"

I shrug. "I can have anything I want delivered. I was planning to get you some clothes that actually fit you."

She's wearing my clothes again today.

"There's some paper and pens in the desk. Make a list of everything you want and what size, and I'll get it for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's... thank you so much."

"It's no problem. Thanks for dinner." She smiles at me again, a genuinely happy smile. Part of me enjoys the sweet smile the young woman with expressive eyes is giving me. Part of me loathes being observed by another person. I look away from her, feeling on edge. She returns to the dining table.

~~~

After dinner, she starts working on a list while I read. I hear her throat clearing and look up to see her standing in front of me. She hands me the list. I scan it, frowning.

"This isn't enough. You're planning to continue living here, yeah?"

"Are you going to let me stay here?"

I hand the list back to her, not sure how to explain my change of heart without telling her about the graphic scene I found in the woods. "Make sure to add boots and a parka to that list. Even in spring, it's still cold outside."

"But that's a lot of money," she protests. "An entire wardrobe? Do you know how much women's clothing costs?"

"Money is of no concern. Write down whatever you want."

Too late I realize that this might be more than I should be revealing to her. I've seen people's eyes light up when they realize my family is loaded and they think they'll be able to get something out of me. I almost married one of them.

"What? Are you rich or something?" Her tone is skeptical and her face is even more so.

"Or something."

Her expression changes to a frown and she looks both disapproving and suspicious.

I try for deflection. "Get some books too, whatever else you want. Anything. It's fine."

"Books?"

Now her eyes light up. Another grin begins spreading across her face and she hurries over to the desk and begins writing furiously.

Then her head snaps up. "How do you feel about music?"

"I told you, get whatever you want."

"Are you sure?" She looks concerned. This is new. No one has ever been hesitant about spending my money.

"It's fine."

She breaks another brilliant smile before returning to her list. I find my own mouth twisting into a faint smile underneath the mask.

I've decided to buy her a gun, though I haven't told her about that yet. I'll teach her how to use it and maybe she'll feel safer. I'm going to have some other things purchased for her as well, stuff she won't have thought of. Perhaps a fishing rod.

After what I learned about her today, I'm glad she can smile and find enjoyment in little things.