Solid as Steele by Susan Sleeman

5

“There!” Owen shouted. “That’s the area I remember. And the rock.”

He dropped his pack and ran toward the butte, but pain forced him to slow to a fast walk. He skirted clumps of desert vegetation and rushed toward a large boulder that was burned in his memory. Dried blood caked the rock. Exactly like he’d remembered.

Flashes of memories peppered his brain as he walked. Pictures of him trudging through the wilderness. Alone. No one chasing him. Tiring. Wanting to quit. But something kept pulling him forward. Step after step until he reached Mackenzie’s porch and collapsed.

What had made him keep going? And what had stolen his memory? Nothing terrible here other than the bloody rock, and that surely wasn’t traumatic enough to make him forget.

“Blood.” Mackenzie’s voice came from behind him.

He jumped. He’d forgotten she and Ryan were with him.

He looked at her. “Guessing it’s mine.”

Ryan joined them. “I brought containers to take forensic samples of any evidence we locate.”

“If I decide not to notify the police, what good will that do?” Owen asked.

“We could have a private lab analyze them,” Mackenzie said.

Owen nodded, his mind racing. “Law enforcement will want to take their own samples for chain of custody anyway. Wow. Oh wow. That’s weird. For some reason, I knew that. Couple that with the double-tap and maybe I really am a cop.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “A cop or guy skilled at breaking the law?”

Poof. Owen’s positive spin he so desperately wanted vanished. Thanks, for that.

“We need to get camp set up,” Ryan jerked his head in the direction of his backpack resting where he’d placed it on a large boulder. “If there’s still daylight when we’re done, we can check this out again. If not, it’ll have to wait until morning.”

Owen didn’t want to leave the spot, but the safety and comfort of Mackenzie was more important to him than anything. Even recovering his memory. Video flashes of this woman in danger popped into his brain. His gut hurt. Was his stress for her alone or did he want to protect all women? Another thing he didn’t know.

He followed Ryan, who stopped near a twisted juniper tree. “We’ll camp in the flat clearing near this tree. We should catch a breeze yet today, and the tents will receive full sunshine first thing in the morning.”

“Sounds good,” Mackenzie said. “We’re yours to command.”

“Wow, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that from you.” Ryan laughed. “I packed three individual tents. Since I know how to set them up and how to choose a good site, I’ll take care of that. But we’ll need firewood.”

“I noticed a dead tree back on the trail a bit.” Owen jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Will that work?”

Ryan nodded. “I’ll get my saw and the two of you can cut the branches into manageable pieces and bring them back.”

In Owen’s wounded state, he wasn’t terribly eager to saw wood and tote it back here. His body was about ready to collapse. He’d only gotten this far spurred on by the hope of finding the area he needed to see. And he’d foolishly believed that when he arrived, his memory would come flooding back and part of his trauma would be over.

Not so much.

Why God? Just why?

He waited for an answer.

Nothing came.

He knew in his gut that he’d asked the question many times in his life and hadn’t received answers. Maybe he was a believer but not a very strong Christian, so he didn’t know how to listen for answers. Or the right way to listen. Was there a secret to unlock God’s communication? A secret he didn’t know but would discover once his memory came back?

Ryan gave him a folding saw. “It’s small but mighty.”

“Like a mustard seed of faith,” Mackenzie said, as if she were able to read the doubt in Owen’s mind.

“Can move a mountain.” She paused and locked gazes with him. “Give our search for your memory time. We’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t know how to reply, so he set off for the tree, pondering her comment as he walked.

She caught up to him.

He looked at her. “You really do believe that, don’t you?”

“I do,” she replied with certainty.

“I just asked God why He’s allowing me to go through this.”

“And?” She stepped to the dead tree and rested a hand on one of the twisted branches.

“And no answer.”

She looked up at him. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Of course,” he said and really meant it. He’d already come to see she lived her faith, and whatever she had to say actually might help him.

“When I’m troubled about something, I try to remind myself the problem isn’t forever. That things will change. Evolve. Maybe not get better but change. So say I’m having a bad day. I say to myself that I’m upset for now. Adding the for now to whatever problem I’m dealing with helps me remember that it’s temporary.”

“I can try that.” He unfolded the saw blade and locked it in place. “But I might never get my memory back. Then what? Your for now doesn’t work.”

“But each day that you don’t have it you’ll get better at dealing with the change. Soon you’ll find yourself stronger and more able to cope.”

“And if I want to wallow in my misery instead?” He hated hearing that come out of his mouth, but that was the state of his emotions right now.

“That’s your choice. I mean, I do that too. Let myself mourn the loss of something, but then I know I have to get over it and move on. With God’s help, I manage it.”

He looked for the best branch to start sawing. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Easy? Hah!” She laughed. “Not at all. It’s simply a choice you make. But don’t think you can make it on your own. Maybe instead of asking God why, ask Him to help you accept and deal with the problem.”

“Good advice,” he said, but wasn’t at all sure he could carry it out. That involved trusting God to do whatever He wanted. Not what Owen wanted. And he was so very desperate to get his memory back when that might not be God’s plan at all.

Still, if he wanted to look at the positives, he could appreciate the fact that God put this woman in his life. She was so full of surprises. Surprises that Owen liked. Liked a lot. And he liked her. The depth of her being was even more impressive than her looks or the fact that she put others first.

And what about him? Was he deep enough to hold his own with her? To earn her respect?

He was beginning to doubt it. But he would embrace her advice and try to take this recent event in stride and stop being frustrated. For now. Maybe those two little words could help him do it for short periods of time, and they would morph into longer periods of time as she said.

He sawed off a dead branch then cut it up, his muscles and body screaming to stop. She stacked the branches, then carried an armful back to the campsite. He waited until she was out of sight and let out a long breath, then took in a few more and let his arms fall limp at his side. Time to admit that he couldn’t keep sawing long enough to produce the quantity of wood they needed.

Could he stand to watch her do the work while he stood back? Or would he completely tire his muscles and not be able to move tomorrow?

That would be foolish. Tomorrow was too important. He needed all of his reserves for scouring the area.

He rested against the trunk and waited for her to return. “My arms have given out.”

“Let me.” She gently took the saw from his hand, a soft look in her eyes. Not pity. Not weakness. But compassion and what he suspected was Christian love.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Hey, just cause I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t do the same work. I’m an equal partner in this trip with you and Ryan.”

“You’re right. I was being sexist.” He moved out of her way.

“You were being a guy.” She wrinkled her cute nose and sawed away.

Grace.She was extending God’s grace to him when he was acting like one of those he-man guys who believed women didn’t have equal footing. But he believed this woman could do anything she set her mind to. Especially with her faith, which was clearly far bigger than a tiny mustard seed.

Her actions were precise and effective. Not a wasted movement.

He took a long limb from her. “You’ve done this before.”

“We have a wood-burning fireplace in the farmhouse I was raised in. And of course, I chopped wood with Ryan in the summers. At least until his dad invested in a chainsaw.”

Man, she was full of surprises. “You grew up on a farm?”

She paused to look at him. “I did. My parents’ house is on one side of my grandparents’ farm and then my aunt and uncle’s property borders the other side.”

“And here I had you pegged for a city girl.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“I think the skirt you wore. It was soft and feminine. Very stylish.”

She propped a hand on a hip. “So you think all country girls wear bib overalls and flannel shirts.”

“Yeah, maybe I did.” He laughed.

“There’s a lot of that, of course. Doing barn chores in heels and a skirt isn’t very practical, but we did all the other things our city counterparts did.” She cut the limb into smaller pieces. “Well, maybe everything but drugs, alcohol, and sex, but that probably has more to do with the way we were raised than the availability.”

“I wish I knew how I was raised.”

“You look pretty clean-cut. Fit, like you work out. So maybe you were an athlete.”

“Maybe.” He let her comment ruminate in his brain as he gathered an armload of wood and took it back to the campsite.

Under the setting sun, Ryan had erected three lime green and gray nylon tents that were long and skinny and held a sleeping bag. Just the right size for one person each. And part of the reason his and Ryan’s packs were heavy. They were carrying gear for three people.

Owen didn’t mind, but wanted to know why Ryan didn’t have Mackenzie carry her own gear. So he asked.

“You want the honest answer?” Ryan asked.

Owen nodded.

“I figured with your injuries you’d give out and not be able to carry the pack. Mackenzie could take it, and I wouldn’t have to repack things on the fly.”

Owen didn’t like the answer, but it was a fair assessment. “I’ve already had to let her saw the tree. And she might have to carry the pack tomorrow. We’ll see.”

“No shame in that.” Ryan cocked an eyebrow. “She told me you’re a bruised mess. We both understand.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” Wishing he could accept it as readily as the two of them, Owen started back for the tree.

Mackenzie had sawed the rest of the last branch into smaller pieces and had started on the next one.

“Stay back.” She swiped the back of her hand over her forehead and laughed. “This is sweaty work.”

“I can take over again,” he offered.

“No worries. I don’t get to the gym as often as I’d like these days and it’s good for toning my arms.”

“Nothing wrong with your arms. Or the rest of you for that matter,” he said, then clamped his mouth closed.

Why had he said that? And in such a flirtatious tone. The last thing she needed was to be stuck in the wilderness with a guy who had no idea of his identity and was hitting on her. The very last thing.

She didn’t say a word but resumed sawing. He carried, and she sawed until darkness descended on them like a heavy black cloak littered with stars, and Ryan declared they had enough wood to make it through the night.

Ryan had created a fire ring with rocks and stacked the wood next to it. “We’ll take shifts tonight keeping the fire stoked to ward off any coyotes and badgers.”

“Any worries about them attacking?” Mackenzie knelt by the fire pit.

“Worry? Not really. But I like to be cautious.”

Owen lowered his aching body to the ground. “Then I’d like a gun for my shift.”

Ryan shared a look with Mackenzie. She nodded.

“Fine. You’ll get the gun.” Ryan squatted next to the fire ring. “Let me get some water boiling so we can fix the MREs. On the menu tonight is beef stroganoff.”

“Is it any good?” Mackenzie tucked her legs under her.

“I’ve tried most all the brands out there and this one seems to be the best. As a bonus, it requires less water and time to cook.” Ryan struck a match and the kindling and dried brush he’d put under the wood teepee caught and flamed into life.

“The last thing I need right now is heat from the fire.” Mackenzie laughed and fanned her face.

Suddenly hyper-alert, Ryan cocked his head. Owen soon heard the sound taking Ryan’s attention. A sound coming from the west. A rumble. Like an off-road vehicle.

Owen met Ryan’s gaze. “We have company.”

Ryan drew his weapon.

“I want to arm myself too.” Owen’s calm voice surprised him when his heart was racing.

“Gun’s in my backpack in the tent.” Ryan didn’t shift his gaze but got to his feet.

Owen jumped up, his whole body groaning in pain, to follow Ryan. Owen wanted to not only be protected but do the protecting of Mackenzie if needed.

Ryan shoved the Glock into Owen’s hands then dug back into his pack.

Owen checked the ammo clip.

Nearly full.

He clipped the empty holster on his belt and looked up in time to see headlights coming their way.

Ryan drew out a pair of binoculars. “Night vision.”

“Perfect.” Owen turned to check on Mackenzie.

She’d taken cover on the far side of the thick trunk of the juniper tree. Ryan dropped behind a boulder, and Owen joined Mackenzie. The headlights cut through the inky night. Two sharp beams. Aiming their way.

“Why would someone be out here on private property at this time of night?” Owen asked.

“You think someone tracked us here?” Her tone was breathless, but he couldn’t see her expression.

“I don’t think so. Not when they’re coming from the north, but who knows.” He stepped behind Mackenzie and leaned close. For his own safety, yeah, but mostly to protect her from an attack from behind. Her body trembled, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her until she let go of the fear and stopped shaking.

The vehicle came into view. Too dark to make out many details, but it looked like it carried one helmeted rider. No way to ID the driver, but the size said male.

Owen’s brain flashed with a memory. The sun setting. A red Polaris Utility Terrain Vehicle racing toward him. One man in the UTV wearing a sleek black half-helmet that left his face uncovered. Leaping out. Calmly swaggering toward Owen, helmet still in place. Not saying a word. Owen trying to introduce himself and ask what the guy was doing there.

The rider tossed a fist to Owen’s face, catching him off guard and spinning him. The guy got behind Owen and pummeled his back. When Owen turned, the rider landed a fist to Owen’s gut. Another. And another, before Owen got a punch in of his own to the man’s gut.

Owen didn’t get another chance. The rider shoved Owen. He plummeted backward. Head striking the rock. Then nothing but blackness until he woke up in the dark. Alone. Left for dead. His vehicle gone.

The roar of the engine rocketing toward them snapped Owen back to the present. Back to the potential threat. Back to protecting Mackenzie.

The driver suddenly slammed on the brakes, the vehicle fishtailing to a stop. He stood. Surveyed the area. Sat and turned the vehicle, racing back in the direction he’d come from.

Owen wasn’t ready to back off on protecting Mackenzie yet. Not until he couldn’t hear the sound of the vehicle as rifles had good range out here in the flatlands. Not that he believed that they were dealing with a shooter. There had been zero evidence of that, but caution was the word.

“You make out anything on the vehicle?” Owen made sure to talk loud enough to be heard over the departing engine.

“No, did you?” she asked.

“Just that it was a two-seater UTV with a single male wearing a helmet.”

The engine’s rumble disappeared into the night, and Owen finally stepped back. “Let’s join Ryan but be alert.”

They strode to Ryan who was backing toward the firepit.

“What did you see?” Owen asked.

“Polaris UTV. Red and black. Male driver. Helmet. Big guy. Put him at six feet, maybe two thirty. Wore a leather jacket and jeans.”

“Sounds like the guy who attacked me yesterday, and the same UTV he was driving. I think he took my vehicle or had someone else do it. Assuming I drove out here, but I’m not sure of that.”

Mackenzie flashed her gaze to him. “You remembered?”

He nodded and described the attack. “The guy wore one of those half helmets so I could see him, but it was too dark to make out any features other than he wore glasses. That’s all for now. Not sure why the guy attacked me though.”

Mackenzie sat by the fire and drew her legs in again. “It’s good news that something came back, and the glasses could help us locate this guy.”

“Yeah, and the doc said if I start to remember bits and pieces, I have a better chance of gaining all my memory back.”

“Keep watch.” Ryan gave them both a pointed look. “And I’ll get this water boiling so we can eat.”

Mackenzie gaped at him. “How can you eat after that?”

Owen agreed. His stomach was churning. Not from seeing the vehicle, but from remembering the vicious assault.

“We have to.” Ryan stoked the fire and put the collapsible kettle on a rack above. “With all the hiking today, we have to keep up our calorie intake if we’re going to function tomorrow.”

“I’ll take the first watch starting after we eat.” Owen challenged Ryan with a just-try-me look. “And I’ll need those binoculars to do the job right.”

Ryan lifted the cord from around his neck and handed them over without a single question. “It’s a little early for shuteye, but I can always try.”

“Not too early for me,” Mackenzie said. “I’ll probably crash once my adrenaline wears off.”

Owen hoped so. And he wouldn’t wake her for a shift either. There was no way he was sleeping tonight. No way at all. Not when there was a chance this man who beat him to a pulp would return and Owen could nab him and unravel this mystery.