wasn’t the one fighting a pack of wolves.”
Brandon tossed the branch into the woods. It was then a few dark red drops fell into the lily white snow.
“You’re bleeding!” I said, pointing to the red stains.
“What?” He didn’t even look at his hand. “What are you doing . . . here?” he asked. He was still running on adrenaline.
“You’ve been hurt,” I said. “We should get you to a doctor.”
He raised his hand. Drops continued to fall into the snow.
“You need to have that looked at,” I said. “You might need stitches.”
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“You could have rabies,” I warned.
“I’m fine.”
“Can I see?” I asked.
“Uh . . . sure.”
I hadn’t even spoken to Brandon before now, but words couldn’t express the gratitude I felt discovering anyone—especially him—here with me in the woods. I’d always been drawn to Brandon, and his heroic actions only magnified my feelings. I slowly reached out to him. Our fingers touched and I melted.
I took his hand and held it in mine. It was strong and warm even though it was wet from the falling snow. I gently peeled back his ripped glove to examine the wound. There was a bloody gash in the palm of his hand.
“You’ve been bitten!” I said, alarmed. “You’ll have to see a doctor. You don’t want it to get infected.”
“That’s okay—” he said, trying to shrug off the seriousness of the wound.
“No, you must.”
“I’m fine.”
“But you’re still bleeding. I’ll bandage it for you.” I dug my free hand into my purse and took out a pack of tissues. I applied a few tissues to his hand and unwound my scarf from around my neck. I could feel him staring at me as I tended to his wound. He examined my hair, my face, my lips. Gently, I wrapped the scarf around his hand and tucked in the ends.
We stood in the snow—in the middle of the woods, in the middle of Legend’s Run. Brandon Maddox’s hand in mine. Neither one of us was letting go.
“It’s kind of bulky,” I said, “but it will do for now.”
I felt so tired. Now, knowing someone was with me, that I wasn’t alone anymore and that I wasn’t hurt, my body started to cave in. Brandon reached out and steadied me with his good hand.
“I could have been—” I said, realizing the severity of the situation. “But you—”
It was hard for me to get past the image that plagued my mind—if Brandon hadn’t shown up when he did, I’d have been attacked by a pack of wolves. Instead, he had scared them off. But he’d been bitten.
“I’d take you to a doctor,” I said. “But I don’t even know where I am.”
Then Brandon smiled—a terminally seductive smile. The kind smiled by A-list movie stars. The kind that takes one’s breath away.
“I’ll show you,” he finally said.
I let go of his hand. As we started walking, the snowfall began to dwindle. I couldn’t feel my hands, my feet, my legs. They all seemed numb from the event, somehow moving on their own.
The flakes became smaller and eventually were more sporadic as we walked in silence. He escorted me through the woods valiantly, as if he knew this piece of land as well as his own home.
We reached the snow-covered road. A few cars passed by slowly, their tires splashing the wintry mix. I saw the roof of my house in the distance. I was closer to home than I’d thought.
“My house is just over there.” I pointed to my subdivision. I was so happy to see my house, I had to fight back tears. “I don’t know how to thank you. You . . . saved my life.”
I turned around to embrace my hero, but Brandon had already disappeared.
Chapter Eight
Rescued
I arrived home breathless, spaced out, and chilled to the bone.
“There you are!” my mom said, relieved. “Where have you been?”
I must have looked like a roughed-up snow angel. If I’d been skiing, sledding, or snowboarding—none of which my friends had time for anymore, and Ivy never liked anyway—I would have had
Brandon tossed the branch into the woods. It was then a few dark red drops fell into the lily white snow.
“You’re bleeding!” I said, pointing to the red stains.
“What?” He didn’t even look at his hand. “What are you doing . . . here?” he asked. He was still running on adrenaline.
“You’ve been hurt,” I said. “We should get you to a doctor.”
He raised his hand. Drops continued to fall into the snow.
“You need to have that looked at,” I said. “You might need stitches.”
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“You could have rabies,” I warned.
“I’m fine.”
“Can I see?” I asked.
“Uh . . . sure.”
I hadn’t even spoken to Brandon before now, but words couldn’t express the gratitude I felt discovering anyone—especially him—here with me in the woods. I’d always been drawn to Brandon, and his heroic actions only magnified my feelings. I slowly reached out to him. Our fingers touched and I melted.
I took his hand and held it in mine. It was strong and warm even though it was wet from the falling snow. I gently peeled back his ripped glove to examine the wound. There was a bloody gash in the palm of his hand.
“You’ve been bitten!” I said, alarmed. “You’ll have to see a doctor. You don’t want it to get infected.”
“That’s okay—” he said, trying to shrug off the seriousness of the wound.
“No, you must.”
“I’m fine.”
“But you’re still bleeding. I’ll bandage it for you.” I dug my free hand into my purse and took out a pack of tissues. I applied a few tissues to his hand and unwound my scarf from around my neck. I could feel him staring at me as I tended to his wound. He examined my hair, my face, my lips. Gently, I wrapped the scarf around his hand and tucked in the ends.
We stood in the snow—in the middle of the woods, in the middle of Legend’s Run. Brandon Maddox’s hand in mine. Neither one of us was letting go.
“It’s kind of bulky,” I said, “but it will do for now.”
I felt so tired. Now, knowing someone was with me, that I wasn’t alone anymore and that I wasn’t hurt, my body started to cave in. Brandon reached out and steadied me with his good hand.
“I could have been—” I said, realizing the severity of the situation. “But you—”
It was hard for me to get past the image that plagued my mind—if Brandon hadn’t shown up when he did, I’d have been attacked by a pack of wolves. Instead, he had scared them off. But he’d been bitten.
“I’d take you to a doctor,” I said. “But I don’t even know where I am.”
Then Brandon smiled—a terminally seductive smile. The kind smiled by A-list movie stars. The kind that takes one’s breath away.
“I’ll show you,” he finally said.
I let go of his hand. As we started walking, the snowfall began to dwindle. I couldn’t feel my hands, my feet, my legs. They all seemed numb from the event, somehow moving on their own.
The flakes became smaller and eventually were more sporadic as we walked in silence. He escorted me through the woods valiantly, as if he knew this piece of land as well as his own home.
We reached the snow-covered road. A few cars passed by slowly, their tires splashing the wintry mix. I saw the roof of my house in the distance. I was closer to home than I’d thought.
“My house is just over there.” I pointed to my subdivision. I was so happy to see my house, I had to fight back tears. “I don’t know how to thank you. You . . . saved my life.”
I turned around to embrace my hero, but Brandon had already disappeared.
Chapter Eight
Rescued
I arrived home breathless, spaced out, and chilled to the bone.
“There you are!” my mom said, relieved. “Where have you been?”
I must have looked like a roughed-up snow angel. If I’d been skiing, sledding, or snowboarding—none of which my friends had time for anymore, and Ivy never liked anyway—I would have had
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