Free Falling
Damaged Heroes Book 2

After attending to his immediate needs, he returned to find the blonde kneeling in front of the fireplace, throwing more logs onto the fire. Her pink shirt hugged her voluptuous curves so well he couldn’t help but stare. Her hair was a bit ruffled as locks escaped her ponytail to curl in wisps around her ears and the nape of her neck. Watching her, he felt his stomach somersault. She looks so domestic. Like a woman who felt relaxed, comfortable, and entirely at home in this house. He half expected a couple of kids to run in at any moment with a schnauzer barking at their heels.

Ross walked to the window to check the weather. The snow still fell thick and fast. A side door just outside the window was almost entirely buried in a drift. The wind whipped the snow into small funnels, whirling and twirling in the distance. With the exception of a red barn, there wasn’t another building anywhere in sight. The blinding glare of the sun on the snow finally forced him to look away.

“Is there a phone I could use?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Landline died day before yesterday.”

“My cell’s in the car. Can I borrow yours?”

“Sorry. No cell tower anywhere near here. Looks like you’re incommunicado until we get plowed out. Might be a day or two.” She threw another log on the fire.

I’m trapped here.

She stood up and brushed the dust from the wood off her hands. She still hadn’t given him any solid information about where he was or why she was here. His annoyance soared. “Where in the hell am I?”

She narrowed her eyes as if she didn’t like his tone. Maybe he had sounded a bit gruff.

“The Circle M,” she finally replied.

“The what?”

“The Circle M.”

He felt like he was questioning a hostile witness. This conversation could quickly turn pointless if he didn’t find a way to reach her. Ross sighed in exasperation, mentally counted to ten, and decided to take another approach. “Okay. Let’s try this. I’ll go first. I remember getting lost trying to find someone. Now it’s your turn. What’s your name?”

“Laurie. Your turn. What’s yours?”

“Ross. Your turn again. Where am I?”

She smiled at his little game. “Just outside River Bend. You do know which state you’re in, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Montana. Where men are men and sheep are scared.”

She laughed. “Tourist.” She turned to walk into the kitchen just visible off of the great room.

“Is that an insult?” Ross followed her. “Look, I remember getting lost, and I remember freezing my ass off. But I don’t remember much about you. Would it be too much to ask to have you fill in the gaps? My memory feels like a slice of Swiss cheese.”

“Sorry about that,” she said as he walked into the room. He took a seat at the kitchen table and just watched her. She was standing in front of the ancient gas stove and pouring something into a small pan. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she smiled. “I saw your car buried out in the snow and brought you back inside. You were kinda sleepwalking through the whole thing. You seemed pretty hypothermic but not frostbitten. Your fingers and toes didn’t turn too white, so I figured I just needed to get you warmed up.”

Opening a cabinet, she pulled out two boxes of cereal and two bowls. She opened one box, spilled some cereal into a bowl, and began to eat it with her fingers. She carried the bowl back with her and set it down next to the stove. “Help yourself. If you want milk, I’ve got some evaporated stuff. The power has been out for a couple of days, so no fresh milk.”

Ross closed the box she’d left standing open then poured himself some cereal from the second box before closing it tight as well. Snacking lightly on his Cheerios, he continued his line of questioning. “Lorie, is it? You expect—”

“Not Lorie. Laurie,” she called over her shoulder as she continued to attend to the pan and munch her Froot Loops.

“That’s what I said.”

She whirled around to face him for a moment. “No. You said Lorie. It’s Laurie. Like singing. You know, la la la. Laurie.” She smiled sweetly before turning back to the stove.

Ross put his hand to the bridge of his nose in irritation. “All right. La la la Laurie.” This woman was beyond frustrating. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

“No. Laurie.”

He scowled at her back, ready to hurl a cutting remark until he saw her shoulders rising and falling with her silent laughter. It made it hard to get too angry. “You expect me to believe you hauled me from the car all by yourself?”

She shrugged and pitched her now empty plastic bowl into the sink. “You stumbled. I dragged. We got you here.” Laurie grabbed two mismatched mugs off the wooden rack sitting next to the sink and poured the contents of the pan into them. Tendrils of steam rose from the cups.

“Then why don’t I remember it?” he growled in frustration. This is ridiculous! Why can’t I remember anything?

“Here,” she said as she handed him a mug of hot chocolate. Ross put it down on the table and shoved the rest of the mostly uneaten cereal away from him.

Reaching down to grab a pair of folded socks from the laundry basket sitting on the floor by the table, Laurie tossed them to Ross. He caught them midair. She smiled and nodded. “Listen, memories aren’t always the most trustworthy things. They aren’t just facts, you know. Emotions go into our memories too. You were kind of in shock, so you weren’t processing the information in a...um...meaningful way.”

He sure didn’t like her talking to him like he was in grade school, but he listened, figuring he might learn something about her if he let her ramble.

“I’d guess that your short-term memory never got properly encoded into your long-term memory. Kind of like when someone drinks too much. You know, some of it might come back later when you aren’t as stressed...”

He rolled his eyes in exasperation as he pulled on the socks. “Great,” Ross interrupted. “You’re one of those, aren’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes. He’d pissed her off. She was pretty when she was angry. Of course, she was pretty when she wasn’t angry too. “One of what?”

“Those psychobabble people. What are you, a psych professor?” Before Laurie could answer Ross waved his hand in dismissal. “Nah. Too young to be a professor.”

Fisting her hands against her hips, she frowned at him. He tried not to smile at her vexation, but it was tough. From the heat in her glare, he wondered if steam would pour out of her ears. He’d hit a nerve.

“You’re a little too normal to be an all-out shrink. Let me guess.” He snapped his fingers. “You’re a therapist.”

“How did you—”

Ross waved his hand again. “You speak fluent psychobabble. I hate therapists. You all think you can save the world with a hug.” He grunted a small laugh and drew the afghan closer around his shoulders. Her blue eyes grew darker, stormy, downright gorgeous. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I just haven’t had too many good experiences with psychologists. Most the time, I’m cross examining them and—”

“Ah ha!” Laurie interrupted as she wagged her index finger at him. “You’re one of those.”

Ross tried not to get irate, but this woman had a knack for pushing his buttons. “One of what?”

“An ambulance chaser. I should’ve known.” Laurie took her mug and walked with a triumphant air back into the great room.

Ross grabbed his mug and followed her. The socks made him feel like he was ice skating across the smooth wooden floor. He had to balance the cup carefully to keep the hot liquid from sloshing over the sides. Kind of tough to do while simultaneously keeping the afghan from falling off his shoulders. He finally made it back to the couch, and he sat down next to Laurie who sipped her hot chocolate and stared intently at the fire.

“I’m not an ambulance chaser. I’m an attorney, thank you very much,” he grumbled.

“And I don’t speak psychobabble, thank you very much,” she replied in a syrupy voice as the corner of her lip twitched, betraying her amusement.