Making New Memories (2 page)

Extremely frightened, I back away from Dylan
as far as I can, and stammer, "W..W..Who are you? Where am I?
PLEASE don't hurt me! Oh no! Put out that fire, they will see
it!"

"Easy, Skye, it's all right. I'm not going to
hurt you. Barry sent me. We are about five miles from the cabin
now. I don't think the reporter is going to see the fire. We need
it so I can get something warm down you. The cold had just about
claimed you by the time I got here. You can call me Scoot."

Again shaking uncontrollably, this time from
fear I ask, "We're five miles from the cabin? You carried me that
far while I was out?" I sit up inside the sleeping bag and look
around with frightened eyes.

"Yes, I carried you that far. Now if you feel
like it, I really need to check your hands and feet for frost bite.
I also brought you some warm dry things from the cabin," responds
Scoot.

"You went in the cabin? What if they saw you?
What if they're following us now?" I ask looking around
frantically, my heart pounding with fear.

"The reporters didn't follow us, I promise.
Now let me see your hands," he says patiently.

Hesitantly, I move my hands out of the
sleeping bag for his examination. When Dylan gently holds my hands
examining them for frost bite, I feel warmth flowing from where he
touches me all the way up my arms and throughout my body.

Dylan notices her hands are rough and chapped
with calluses on the palm, not what he would have expected for
someone raised in the world of movie stars. Not finding any signs
of frostbite he gives her a pair of warm gloves and he then asks to
see her feet.

I unzip the sleeping bag and see the instant
hot packs and ask, "What are these? Oh, they're warm! No wonder I
feel so warm now. Thank you."

When I pull my feet out and remove my wet
sneakers and socks he thoroughly dries my feet with a towel he
pulls out of his backpack. He rubs them vigorously to stimulate
blood flow being careful not to cause any damage. He then examines
them closely applying first aid cream to several areas.

"We'll need to keep an eye on these. I don't
think they are too bad, but we need to make sure. Here are some
warm dry socks and your snow boots. Put on these long johns first
underneath your clothes. I'll take a little walk so you can have
some privacy," he says as he stands and walks away.

After dressing in the warm clothes and boots
I call, "Okay, I'm dressed now. You said Barry sent you?" I am very
thankful for the warm clothes. It was very thoughtful of him to
bring them to me.

"Yeah, Farrie sent me. He is very worried
about you," answers Dylan.

"Farrie? I've never heard anybody call him
that before. Are you friends?"

"We were in the same unit in the Marines for
eight years. Farrie is his code name. My business, Drake Security,
is based on his ranch in Wyoming and we all live on the property.
How long have you known Barry?"

"Barry and I met right after he came to LA.
My father directed his first movie and we have been friends ever
since. If you live on his ranch, you must have met his wife, what's
she like? I was very surprised when he told me he had gotten
married."

"Enough questions for right now. Here eat
this, it'll warm you from the inside out," says Dylan feeling
uncomfortable discussing Barry's personal life with this woman he
once dated. He hands her a cup of warm soup.

I am enjoying the warm soup when Dylan
suddenly jumps up, spinning around pulling a pistol from his belt
and says, "Come out with your hands up!"

When I look up, I see my friend Bear emerging
from the woods. "Bear! What are you doing here?"

Dylan says, "You know him?" referring to the
mountain man.

I answer, "Yes, Bear saved me when I was
stranded three years ago. It is his cabin where I have been living.
Bear come and sit down."

Bear looks Dylan up and down suspiciously and
asks, "Skye, are you all right? He hasn't hurt you has he?"

Looking at the man Dylan thinks Bear is an
appropriate name. He is as big and as hairy as a bear. He knows
only one other person with that much body hair, his friend Stump.
He puts the pistol back in its holster and returns to his seat by
the fire offering the visitor some of the warm soup.

"I'm fine Bear. My friend Barry sent Scoot to
rescue me. A reporter recognized me when I was in town and he has
been staking out the cabin. I had to leave and have been camping
out here in the woods for the past two days. I was nearly frozen
when Scoot found me."

"I got rid of that reporter fellow, he won't
be back. You can come back to the cabin now." Bear tells me.

"No, Bear. I can't go back. They know where I
am now and they won't leave me alone. I will have to find somewhere
else to live."

"Are you sure Skye? I'll protect you if you
want to stay," says Bear.

"I know you would, but I can't take the
chance Bear. Please try to understand. I really appreciate all you
have done for me and I'll never forget you." I hug the big man.

Dylan speaks up, "Bear, my name is Scoot.
Thank you for helping Skye. Would you mind packing her things into
her car and parking it at the shopping mall in Kalispell? I'll send
someone to pick it up and drive it to Wyoming. I am taking Skye to
Barry's ranch until we can determine a safe place for her to live.
She'll be safe at the ranch."

"Okay then, I'll pack up your stuff and have
it at the mall by the weekend. Will you write to me Skye, so I'll
know you're all right? You can send letters to General Delivery,
Kalispell and I'll pick them up at the post office." He turns and
looks Scoot in the eye and says, "You, Scoot, take good care of my
girl here or I'll hunt you down like the animal you are and kill
you, understand?"

"I understand. I'll take good care of her, I
promise," replies Scoot not doubting for a minute the big man means
what he says.

Bear rises from the ground, hugs me and
disappears into the woods. He knows that Scoot is a former Marine.
He can tell by the way he carries himself and the way he drew the
pistol at his approach. Skye will be safe with him as long as he
keeps his hands to himself.

Dylan says, "Interesting fellow, what do you
know about him?"

"Not much really, he appeared out of nowhere
when my car broke down three years ago. He moved out of his cabin
so I would have a place to live and he comes by every couple of
months to make sure I am all right. He did tell me once that he is
a Vietnam Veteran. He said he couldn't stand being around people
when he got back so he moved up here. His name is Clarence
Kincaid."

"Clarence Kincaid? You're serious?" Scoot
asks stunned. When I nod my agreement he continues, "He is a legend
in the Marine Corp, revered by all. He single handedly rescued a
whole platoon of Marine's that were ambushed in Vietnam. Everyone
thinks he's dead. I would love to have more time to talk to him."
Pausing he then adds, "Well, we better get some sleep. We have a
long way to walk tomorrow."

I zip up my sleeping bag with the heat packs
that are still emitting warmth and think about the handsome Marine
that saved my life. His dark green eyes and chocolate brown hair
are a great combination. It seems Barry Farrady isn't the only
former Marine handsome enough to be a movie star. I wish I were a
different person, one who wasn't scarred by a past that only she
and Barry Farrady know about now.

I was only eighteen when the attack occurred.
I was very naïve since my father kept me in private girl's schools
since my mother died. Some friends and I went to a hard rock
concert and I got separated from them. A group of six boys, drunk
and high on drugs drugged me then brutally raped me repeatedly in
the back of a van in the parking lot. They beat me and left me for
dead. Barry found me the next morning behind a dumpster in an alley
near the concert venue. He carried me home to my father and they
nursed me back to health physically but I have never been the same
emotionally since that horrible night.

Dylan zips himself up into his own sleeping
bag thinking about the beautiful woman lying so close. He senses
some deep emotional scars underneath her surface beauty. No wonder
Barry wanted him to come alone on this mission. He wonders about
her past, what could have happened to cause such fear, and why she
feels it's necessary to go to such extreme measures to avoid the
Paparazzi.

Just as dawn is sliding across the landscape,
I am awakened by the delicious smell of hot coffee and breakfast
cooking over an open fire. Stretching languorously I am grateful
for the warm clothes that Scoot brought to me. Looking over at the
fire I see my handsome rescuer staring at me through hooded
eyes.

"Good morning," I whisper.

Dylan has to mentally shake himself out of
his daydream of lying with Skye curled against his body. "Good
morning. Are you ready for breakfast? We need to hit the trail in a
few minutes."

He doesn't know what's wrong with him. He
never lets himself dream about lying with a woman. He stopped
letting himself fantasize about women years ago when his wife,
Elena, betrayed him with the banker in his home town. He lost her
and his son, Damian that day. He swore then he would never let
himself care for another woman. Now don't think he is a monk
because he's not. He seeks his pleasure with a few well chosen
women who only want what he wants, no strings attached sex.
Besides, this woman obviously has a truckload of baggage.

He had married his high school sweetheart,
Elena, right after he retired from the Marine Corp. She swore she
would wait for him when he left for the Marines and she did. He was
the happiest man alive until he returned home from work early one
day and found her in his bed with a man from the bank where she
worked. His son had only been three months old at the time. He
packed his things and left that day and has not looked back. He
filed for divorce and pays his child support on time every month.
The worst part of being divorced from her is that every time he has
asked to spend time with his son, Damian, Elena has not allowed it.
He probably should have carried her back to court years ago, but so
far he hasn't. It's been eight years and he thinks often about
Damian. Maybe he will take Elena to court after he gets Skye back
to the ranch. The illicit visits he shares with his son at the game
room in the mall in Amarillo are no longer enough.

Both Dylan and I are quiet during breakfast
lost in our own thoughts. When Dylan begins cleaning up the
campsite and smothering the fire, I pack up my sleeping bag and get
ready for the long walk.

Dylan turns to me and asks, "Skye I found a
loaded pistol at the cabin. Do you know how to use it?"

"Yes, Bear taught me and I have been
practicing every day. I caught or killed my own food for the past
three years so I had to learn to shoot."

When he hands me the pistol he teases
smiling, "Just don't shoot me all right?"

I retort smiling, "Don't give me a reason
to," and fasten the holster around my waist. A sense of security
surrounds me and I feel safer knowing I can protect myself should
the former Marine turn out to be untrustworthy.

Dylan's breath catches in his lungs when he
glimpses her beautiful smile. Wow! What he would give to see that
smile again. She is absolutely stunning!

We head through the woods walking in silence.
The terrain is rough, the snow is deep, and we are steadily
climbing. Finally I ask, "Where are we headed anyway?"

"I saw a burn area on the map about twenty
miles north that is clear enough for the helicopter to land. Once
we get close, I'll radio Goose to pick us up. We'll go from the
pick area directly to the ranch in Wyoming."

"H..H..Helicopter? Are you telling me you
expect me to willingly get on one of those things and fly out of
here? Why can't we just drive?" I ask shakily.

"My instructions were to get you out of here
without being seen. Flying out is the logical way. Driving would
expose you to recognition every time the car slowed or stopped. Are
you afraid of flying?" asks Dylan curiously.

"I'm not exactly afraid of flying, just of
being in a helicopter with two men I don't know," I answer
honestly.

Dylan stops, turns toward me and studies my
face. I'm sure he can see the fear reflected in my eyes. He asks,
"Skye, are you afraid of me?"

"I'm not so much afraid of you but I don't
know this Goose person and in a helicopter I can't just open the
door and get out," I reply shakily.

Dylan remembers Barry's warning about a bad
experience during her teenage years so he asks "Skye, I would
really like to understand. Would you tell me why you are
afraid?"

I drop my sleeping bag on the ground and sit
on top of it before looking up at him with tears in my eyes, "I
can't. I'm sorry, but I can't talk about that ... that time."

Dylan squats on his haunches in front of me
and clasps my shaking hands in his. "It is all right Skye. You
don't have to tell me anything. I promise you I will protect you
with my life from whatever danger we encounter. Will you trust me
to do that?"

"Even from your friend Goose if it becomes
necessary?" I ask. Warmth emanating from his eyes is filling me
with a sense of safety.

"I promise, even from Goose if it becomes
necessary," answers Dylan. "Will you trust me to protect you?"

"Y..Y..Yes," I answer with tears streaming
down my face.

He pulls a clean handkerchief from his pocket
and gently wipes the tears from my face. Standing he offers his
hand to help me stand. Hesitantly I clasp his hand and allow him to
pull me to my feet. When I am upright, he briefly brushes a soft
kiss across my forehead.

Shocked by the sensation of his lips against
my forehead, I shiver. I'm not exactly afraid but I don't know what
I feel.