“I Got Lost”
The odds of nearly getting run over by your long-lost wife of four years were low but never zero.
His breath frozen in his throat, Stanley gazed at the woman lying unconscious in his arms and struggled to form a thought.
The woman’s hair, dark except for a streak of grey, fell past her face, swaying beneath her head like a curtain as he held her.
Her slender body was still, except for the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The woman’s eyes were closed, but a moment ago, he’d seen them, brown and wide and filled with incredulity.
He let his gaze drop to her slightly parted lips, traveling lower to a gold chain gleaming on her neck.
Attached to it was a small pendant. A locket.
I’m dreaming, aren’t I? he thought , yet he already knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was no dream.
Neither was finding himself in the middle of the woods after falling through that void with Johan’s hands wrapped around his throat.
He’d thought he must be dreaming then when he found himself lying on solid ground, completely alone and surrounded by trees.
He wasn’t in pain—at least nothing like what he expected to feel after plummeting through the depths of that chasm.
And when he’d opened his eyes, the darkness that greeted him had been dotted with tiny pinpoints of light scattered across his vision—stars.
For a while, Stanley thought he might be dead, that the fall must have killed him, and that this was some sort of last-minute dream or even the afterlife. It was a silly thought, though no less unbelievable than the idea of a dimension called Frost Mountain or a pit that seemed to have no end.
How long had he and Johan fallen? Minutes? Hours? All he’d been aware of was the darkness. That, and, of course, his struggle with Johan as they plummeted toward their doom.
Or what should have been their doom.
When he awoke, Johan was nowhere to be seen, and Stanley made haste to get out of the woods.
It was only after he’d spotted the roads and buildings that he realized he was neither dreaming nor dead, not to mention he was no longer on Frost Mountain.
This place seemed all too familiar. He was back on Earth.
More than that, he was back home, back in Torpe, his hometown.
He looked around. In the glare of the truck’s headlights, he could see the road stretching into the night.
Buildings and trees stood half-silhouetted against the sky in the distance.
In all his four years trapped on Frost Mountain, he’d never once forgotten his true home, but even now, memories flooded his mind—memories of the time he’d spent here, of his life on Reyes Ranch.
Sweat trickled down his chin to his bare chest, already slick and dirty. It was an odd feeling to be thrust back here. And now ...
He looked down at the woman lying in his arms and felt a powerful throb in his chest.
“Allison,” he whispered, a slight quaver in his voice. “It’s really you.”
In his arms, his wife remained as she was, chest heaving slightly. If he weren’t utterly convinced that this was not a dream, he would have questioned the reality of his situation yet again. This was the love of his life, the woman he’d thought he’d lost forever, right before him now.
“It’s been so long, Allison,” he said.
His heart swelled with joy, his mind struggling to comprehend everything that had happened since he fell into that pit. But he could deal with all of that later, he decided. Right now, what he needed was to get them off the road and back home.
Home. The ranch. The thought made him smile.
He glanced down the road. Which way was home anyway?
He had to assume Allison had been headed that way before she nearly ran him over.
Stanley couldn’t remember exactly where the ranch was—his mind was still filled with memories of Frost Mountain—but he was certain it would come to him.
He was back in Torpe, back on Earth. As far as he was concerned, he had all the time in the world to fully refresh his memory.
Right now, though, he needed to find a way to get them both home.
Rising to his feet, he walked around to the side of the truck, gently setting Allison’s unconscious form in the passenger seat.
Then he settled behind the wheel and, for a second, merely stared at the wheel.
Could he still drive? There were no cars or roads on Frost Mountain.
To get them home, he’d have to rely on the hazy memories of his time before his life turned upside down.
“Okay,” he breathed. “Let’s do this.”
He turned the key in the ignition and started a little as the engine roared to life. He chuckled as the truck slowly rolled forward. Gripping the steering wheel, he brought his foot to what he assumed was the gas, and it lurched to a stop.
“Look at you, Stanley,” he said, smirking at himself. “Hitting the brakes instead of the gas. Forgotten how to drive a truck already?”
Next to him, Allison stirred. He glanced at his wife, his heart fluttering in his chest.
“We’re going back home, baby,” he said.
He hit the gas, and the truck took off into the night.
***
When Allison opened her eyes the next morning, she decided she’d probably had a little too much to drink the night before.
She’d tumbled in and out of consciousness a couple of times during the night. When she finally woke up, it was from a strange dream in which she’d run into her husband Stanley—which, of course, was not possible.
When she pried her eyes open, the sudden light almost blinded her, and she felt a tiny throb in her head. She sat up, blinked her eyes to adjust to the brightness, and gazed around.
She was in her bedroom. Allison frowned.
How had she gotten here? She sighed. She must have been so drunk that she couldn’t remember the ride back to the ranch from the Blue Cicada or getting herself into bed.
She looked down. She’d even changed out of yesterday’s clothes into something more comfortable.
She sighed again. Hopefully, she hadn’t crashed the truck or run someone over. The last thing she needed this morning was a DUI.
Wait ... I didn’t drink that much last night, did I?
All she remembered was having a cocktail, and she hadn’t even finished it before that man approached her, so she decided to leave.
Her mind drifted back to the dream she’d had: Stanley standing in the middle of the road, and she felt her breathing quicken for a moment.
It might have been impossible, but it all felt so real.
She bit her lip. Celine would say it was because she still missed him after all this time.
She wouldn’t be wrong about that. Or about the fact that Allison did need to get Stanley out of her system.
She told herself she didn't need to worry about dumb dreams. First things first, she should check to make sure the truck was still in perfect shape.
She started to climb out of bed, but just then, the thud of footsteps outside the bedroom made her freeze.
Allison frowned. Maybe one of the cowhands had come into the ranch house to discuss something with them?
Before she could decide whether it was Aaron or Julian, two of the most trusted workers on the property, the door swung open, and a man walked inside, bearing a tray laden with—
“Coffee,” he said with a grin that nearly stopped her heart. “Black. No sugar. Just how you like it, if I recall.”
For the next few seconds, the bedroom was plunged into deafening silence. Allison thought she could hear her own heart pounding against her ribcage.
She stood blinking at him. “It ... it wasn’t a dream.”
“Hi, honey,” Stanley said, settling the tray down onto the bedside table. “It’s me.”
It was him, all right. The same man she’d almost run over last night with the truck.
He looked just as he had last night, long-haired and bushy-bearded.
From what she could see, he’d gotten cleaned up and slipped into some of his old clothes.
They barely fit him; his muscular frame was visible through the fabric, which threatened to rip under the strain of his body.
He’d filled out over the years, she realized.
She had to admit, he was a sexy sight to behold. Looking at him, she suddenly felt as though there wasn’t enough oxygen in the bedroom for both of them.
And he was staring back at her. God, she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be looked at by him. Those deep blue eyes of his were riveted on her. They’d changed too, she realized. She’d always thought he had a sexy gaze, but now his eyes were also filled with something else.
Pain?
In the past four years, only those eyes seemed to have aged much. She found herself wondering just what he’d seen in all that time. Where had he been? She had so many questions swirling about her mind, yet all she could do was stare dumbly across the bed at him.
It was Stanley who broke the silence again.
“Allison,” he said, slowly making his way around the bed to meet her. “It’s me. Stanley. I’m back.”
As he approached, she caught sight of the gold chain around his neck. He still had his locket.
“Stanley ...” she breathed.
He drew closer, cautiously, with the air of a man approaching a wild beast or a wounded horse. “I still can’t believe it’s you. After all these years ...”
It was almost as if he was reading her thoughts, speaking them to her as they appeared in her mind.
After all this time, he was suddenly back.
In her bedroom. Only mere feet away from her.
Her lips parted, but before she could utter another word, he crossed the distance between them and covered her mouth with his.
His lips tasted like cinnamon. His thick beard was coarse against her chin, but that was the least of her concerns right now.
Stanley is kissing me .
That was what mattered. When he pulled her closer, one large hand cupping her cheek, the other wrapped around her middle, she imagined she might dissolve on the spot.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this: Stanley touching her, holding her, Stanley kissing her.
His body was hard against hers, the mere contact already sending the right signals into her body.
She could feel her temperature rising rapidly.
Her own hands rose to touch him, sliding around his torso to his back and feeling the contours of his muscles . ..
He was back. Her husband was back after so long.
After so long.
Suddenly, she broke the kiss and pulled away. Stanley blinked and tried to come closer again, but she held out a hand to stop him.
“No,” she said firmly, feeling anger growing in her belly. “Not another step toward me.”
“Honey, what’s—?”
“Don’t you call me that!” she snapped. “What the hell are you doing back here, Stanley?”
His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean by that? I live here. This is our home.”
She couldn’t help but chortle. “You sure about that? Because last I checked, you’ve been gone the past four years. At some point, I figured you’d gone and found a new home for yourself. And now you’re here.”
Allison hadn’t even realized just how much anger she’d been carrying all this time.
For years, it had been cloaked in sadness and longing.
Now that Stanley was here, standing before her, all that rage came spilling out.
And she had no intention of hiding it. She glowered at him, fuming amidst feelings of relief as well as excitement from the kiss they’d just shared.
“You’ve got some nerve,” she said, jabbing her finger at him, “crawling back after abandoning me all those years ago.”
He shook his head. “But I didn’t—”
“Do you have any idea what it was like for me, waiting for you to come back after that evening?” She scoffed, her eyes blurred with tears, but she quickly brushed them aside.
“You must have thought I was a fool, huh? That you could just waltz back into my life after four years and expect me to welcome you with open arms and a kiss?”
Her lips still tingled from the kiss. She ignored that.
“I didn’t abandon you, Allison,” Stanley said. “I got lost.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Really? That is the best you can come up with?”
“No, I’m serious. I’ve been on Frost Mountain this whole time. I don’t even know how it’s possible that I’m back here, but you have to believe me. I never abandoned you—”
“Get out,” she said.
His eyebrows rose slowly. “What?”
“Get out of here. I don’t want you in this house. I don’t want to see your face. I don’t want you near me. You left before. You can leave again.”
“Allison—”
“Go!”
She figured he would refuse. It was as much his house as it was hers.
They were still legally married and the property was still in both their names.
She had as much power to send him out of the house or off the property as he did to make her leave.
Allison sucked in a breath, bracing herself for the inevitable No.
But it never came. A look of hurt appeared in his eyes, and he nodded.
“I’ll be in the barn if you need me,” he said. “It was nice seeing you again, Allison.”
He left the room. Allison remained rooted to the spot, listening to the sound of his receding footsteps until she heard the front door swing shut. She turned to the window just in time to see his broad-shouldered figure marching from the ranch house to the nearest barn.
She turned away, walking over to the tray he’d left by her bed. Steam rose from a coffee mug. He’d gotten it right—black, just how she liked it.
Allison felt her chest contract. She needed to call Celine, right after she made herself a new cup of coffee.