Chapter 4: Chapter 4

ANNABELLE

The next few days passed by in the same way. I continued to care for Blake, trying my best to help him keep his fever down and letting him rest as much as possible.

However, the sleep wasn’t always peaceful. Blake would whimper, groan, and mumble as he tossed and turned, muttering the same words over and over again.

~I didn’t do it. I’m sorry. Investigate. Father. Save business~.

I tried to piece everything together as I kept watch.

Had Blake been working for a company that had gone down? It sounded like there had been an investigation, with Blake at the center of it, but he seemed adamant that he wasn’t to blame. If so, who was? Could his father be at fault? Or was it him that Blake was apologizing to?

The whimpering started again. A tear trailed down the side of Blake’s face, tugging at my heartstrings. Reaching out a hand, I wiped it away with my thumb and cupped his cheek, giving it a gentle caress.

“It’s okay,” I cooed, taking his hand.

“Bank…rupt,” he mumbled, turning away from me. “Stone.”

“Bankrupt?” I asked.

“I didn’t do it!” he shouted as he shot up, the cloth falling off his forehead and onto his lap. Releasing a pain-filled groan, he reached up to cup his head as he swayed. “My head…”

“You’re awake,” I said, just as Blake’s body fell back again. “Blake!”

He let out a small moan, followed by light snores. Relief flooded through me. He had just passed out again.

“You’re going to give me gray hair,” I said softly, grabbing the cloth and wetting it before I dabbed it over his face.

“Stone? Save business? Bankruptcy?” I mumbled to myself.

I looked at Blake again, my thoughts going back to the story I’d been working on for the past year. He couldn’t mean Stone Financial. Their CEO, Blake Stone, had disappeared after the company filed for bankruptcy. He couldn’t be that Blake, right?

I’d been investigating for months, working on a big exposé when I’d hit a dead end. Something about the public statement just didn’t add up. That story was what brought me out for a climb the day I’d found Blake.

I sighed, turning to look out the window and noticing daylight finally coming through.

“The storm seems to be ending,” I muttered.

***

A hissing sound and the sensation of movement beside me jolted me awake. Panic surged through me, and I sat up quickly, turning toward Blake.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. How are you feeling?” I asked, forcing myself to rise and leave the warmth of the bed.

I stretched, coming around to Blake’s side.

“Better,” he replied. “How long was I out of it?”

“A couple of days,” I mumbled, rubbing my face. “Let me take a look at your leg, and then I’ll make something for breakfast.”

“I’m fine really.”

“Don’t make me ask again,” I groaned, waving my hand at his injury.

His face lit up with a small smile. “Fine. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He lay back on the bed, pulling up the leg of his sweats. I carefully unwrapped the bandaging and peered at the wound. It didn’t seem to be healing like it should.

I worried my lip as I cleaned it, using one of the few remaining bandages to bind it again. We were steadily running out of supplies. If the storm lasted much longer, both the first aid kit and the cabinets would be empty.

“Looks like it’s getting better,” I replied, cheerfully. “So, that’s good. But I’m not exactly sure what to make for breakfast. We’re starting to run a bit low on food.”

He looked serious. “Wasn’t counting on a storm to snow us in,” he sighed, noticing my expression and quickly forcing a smile. “We’ll figure it out though. I don’t mind starving.”

I gave him a look as he rolled the leg of his sweatpants back down.

“I’m joking,” he laughed. “I think there’s a few more cans of stuff in the bottom cabinet. And there’s chamomile tea in the top somewhere.”

“Thanks. I’ll check,” I said, rising and stretching out my back. “I’ll bring in some more firewood after we eat.”

He looked over at the stack of logs. “Did you bring all that in?”

I nodded as I rooted around in the kitchen, coming up with a few cans.

“I found an axe under the bed. Never had to chop wood before. Took me a few tries to get the hang of it,” I laughed, turning to find Blake staring blankly at the stack, lost in thought.

“Blake,” I called out gently, taking a few steps toward him.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asked, eyes clearing as he focused on me.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Are you feeling dizzy or feverish?” I asked, placing my hand on his forehead.

He chuckled. “I’m fine. Just lost in thought.”

I stepped back, giving him a suspicious once-over.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Men sometimes downplay how serious something is, and under normal circumstances, I’d let you be. But this isn’t normal. You need to tell me if you feel worse. I don’t want to be stuck here by myself.”

“I’m sure,” he said, smiling reassuringly. “Thank you for the wood.”

I blushed, and his tanned face paled a bit.

“I mean, the firewood! Not…that… I-I didn’t mean…”

He ran a hand over his face. I laughed, the tension in the room slipping away.

“I understood what you meant,” I chuckled, finding a can opener and pouring some soup into a pot.

He watched me with a relieved grin as I set it by the fire to heat, stoking the embers before adding another log.

“Your wound isn’t bleeding, but you might need stitches,” I said at last, turning back to him. “It doesn’t look infected, but it’s a deep cut. It might not heal properly without them.”

“That’s unfortunate considering I hate needles,” he replied, leaning back on his pillow with his leg elevated.

“Don’t we all?” I muttered. “How’s your ankle?”

“It’s not too bad,” he said. “Don’t think I’ll be going on a hike anytime soon.”

“Probably for the best. You don’t seem to have very good luck in the woods,” I said, hesitating before asking what had been on my mind for the past few days. “Can I ask what you’re doing out here? You don’t seem like the outdoorsy type.”

Silence greeted my question.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I said quickly. “I was just curious. You’re all alone out here. There’s not even a phone.”

He stared at the ceiling for several long moments till I moved away to grab the soup from the fire. As I ladled it into two chipped bowls, I heard him sigh heavily.

“I needed to be alone.”

Just as I was about to ask why, there was a knock at the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin, quickly setting the pot down so I didn’t drop it.

~Who in their right mind would climb this mountain in such terrible weather?~