The Hermit Read Free

ensure there were no eggs or bugs infesting the length.  Satisfied, he
washed it with regular shampoo and rinsed it one last time before towel drying
it and running a comb through until it was detangled. 
     
    He
dried her neck before pulling on the flannel shirt and buttoning all but the
top button.  After he rolled up the long sleeves, Ryan moved her to the soft
worn couch near the fire that he’d layered with towels, pulling an old quilt
over her still form. 
     
    Ryan
made beef broth and ginger tea, knowing he’d have to get her to eat gradually. 
Taking a large dropper from his medical bag, he sat on the edge of the coffee
table and carefully pulled down her lower jaw.  Testing with a small amount of
the broth, he waited to be sure her body’s natural reflex would kick in and
make her swallow. 
     
    Nodding
his head with a slight smile that felt foreign on his face, he worked to feed
the cups of both liquids to her.  It took a long time but he felt she’d likely
be able to keep it down.  He sat back on the ratty chair he favored and watched
her in wonder before falling asleep. 
     
    The
days passed slowly.  He discovered if he took her in to the toilet, pulling her
clothes away and placing her in position, she would pee without an issue.  That
she had no bowel movements convinced him she hadn’t had solid food in far too
long. 
     
    Ryan
doubted she’d appreciate such intimacy with a complete stranger, no woman
would, but it saved her clothing.  Every two days, he removed and washed what
she was wearing, gave her a sponge bath, and treated her wounds.  He always left
her dressed in one of his shirts and clean socks while he washed the rest in
the hand crank washing machine.  He allowed them to hang in front of the fire
until dry then he always redressed her fully, being careful not to put his
hands on her bare skin more than absolutely necessary. 
     
    They
existed in this space together, though she was unaware, with him her primary
caregiver as she healed from God only knew what trauma.  He stayed close to
home, having no need or desire to stray far. 
     
    Before
he’d come up here for the last time four years ago, he’d made a dozen trips
equipping this remote home with the basic necessities and creature comforts
he’d refused to live without.  An old mining road allowed him the ability to
drive loads to the bottom of the mountain where he could transfer everything to
a rugged Kubota and haul it to the cabin clearing several miles away.  The ATV
was secured in a cave should he need it.  He hadn’t driven it in a long time
and hoped the battery still worked. 
     
    The
days passed as they had for so long.  Only now when Ryan read, wrote, and
listened to music he also waited for his unknown patient to wake up.  Every
day, her pulse was stronger, her color a bit better. 
     
    Eight
days after he found her, he was feeding her beef broth from the dropper when
she opened her eyes and startled the shit out of him.  He sat back, putting
plenty of space between them.  They stared at one another for several long
minutes, saying nothing as she fought to stay awake, to figure out where she
was and who he was. 
     
    She
wanted to stay awake but her body overruled her.  Eventually her eyes drifted
closed and she whispered sadly, “Please… please don’t hurt me.” 
     
    Then she
was out again and Ryan found himself unable to move.  For the longest time, he
sat there beside her, feeling a tiny crack in the frozen ice surrounding his
heart for the last several years.  He set the bowl down beside him and buried
his face in his hands.  Never in his life had he heard such heartbreak and fear
from another person.  It gave him a clarity regarding his own troubles he’d
refused to confront in all this time. 
     
    He
picked up one of her frail hands and held it lightly between both of his large
ones.  “I will not hurt you.  You’re safe with me.  I swear it.  No one will
ever hurt you