Branded By The Mountain Man (Thickwood CO)

Fear licks up my spine as a burst adrenaline hits me like I haven’t felt since when I was on the job the day of the accident that changed my life forever.

I try to open the door, but it is locked. I don’t have a tool to open it either and there’s no way I’m going to wait until Sheriff Shepard or one of his boys up here to unlock it. I look around, my training kicking into gear without thought. I see a large rock and eye the small window in the door. Ophelia will give me hell, but if she’s okay or I can help her, I don’t give a shit.

“Watch out Bogo,” I call out and then curse under my breath because I’m talking to a damn pig. Then, I slam the rock into the glass holding my head down as it shatters. I throw the rock on the ground once it does the job. Then, I use my hand to bust away more the debris to reach in and unlock the doors. Glass pierces my skin, but I ignore it. Ophelia didn’t hand me my ass for busting her window and the pig is definitely inside the van. Ophelia would never willingly leave that animal.

The panic I felt before is nothing compared to what is moving through me now.

I’m terrified.

I could lie and say it’s because of the horrors I’ve been through on the job. I could even say it’s because this brings back memories I haven’t buried yet. None of those would be the truth. I’m frightened something has happened to Ophelia.

Once I get the door opened, I find Ophelia lying on a built-in sofa. Her eyes are closed. There’s no way someone could sleep through the ruckus I just made.

“Ophelia? Honey, wake up,” I beg, urgently. She’s lethargic, I move her head and slowly her eyes begin to open—almost as if in slow motion. What’s worrying me more is the hot feel of her skin against my touch.

She’s burning up.

I think back to the numerous times she’s been out in the rain—mostly arguing with me.

Or kissing.

“Wake up, Sunshine. Let me know you’re okay,” I plead, my hand at the base of her neck, holding her tenderly.

“Braden?” she murmurs, slowly opening up glassy eyes.

“It’s me, you’re sick, honey.”

“I’m cold…”

“I know. I’m going to take care of you though, don’t worry.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“What?” I ask, confused, wondering if the fever has her delirious. “Do you have a thermometer?” I ask, figuring I’m grasping at straws.

“You hate me,” she accuses.

“I don’t, Ophelia, I promise you I don’t. I just need to get you to the doctor.”

“Later. I’m too tired,” she responds, going back out.

“Ophelia—”

“Tired,” she responds, not bothering to open her eyes.

“Okay, honey. You sleep and let me take care of you,” I whisper softly against her ear, kissing the hot skin. I pick her up with the blanket she had over her, then I curl my body over her to keep from banging my head. Once I get her outside, I straighten and turn to look at her little pig who is at the door of the van, whimpering. I put a limber Ophelia in the truck, situating the blanket to make her more comfortable. Then, I turn around to look at Bogo. “It’s now or never Bogo,” I warn him. He just stands there, his body wiggling as he tries to decide what to do. I’d leave the damn thing, but it would break Ophelia’s heart and for some reason that matters to me. Instead, I go over to it with a heavy sigh. “You bite me, Bacon and you and I are going to have problems,” I warn him. He barely spares me a glance, clearly worried about Ophelia. I lean down and pick him up. “I’m worried about her too,” I mumble, reaching back to close the doors to her van, even though the window is broken. I take Bogo over to Ophelia. She’s still out, but the pig settles on her lap, burying its snout under Ophelia’s hand. I close the door and hop in.

I drive toward town, not liking to go there, but knowing Ophelia needs medical help. The bridge is washed out.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

I slap my hand on the steering wheel. There’s no taking Ophelia into town. I have first responding training a pretty good EMT kit… it looks like Ophelia is stuck with me.

I’m not sure how she’s going to feel about that. Hell, I’m not sure how I feel about it either.

I turn my truck around and head back up the mountain.11OpheliaI sit up, feeling like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck. My head hurts—no my entire body hurts, but my head is much worse than the rest. I rise up on the bed, elbows digging into the soft mattress.