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LEXI

A s I crossed the grass, my shoulders huddled against the night chill, I kept my eyes on the form ahead of me — what was it?

But then, as I drew closer, I knew… a person. Someone was on the ground under the tree.

I began to run.

But then I slid to a stop about six feet away — a man, big, bearded, unconscious, dressed in… really odd clothes, like a historic costume.

It flashed in my mind, like in my dream, but I shoved that thought aside.

“Hey, hey, you’re sleeping? Get up. You’re on my land.”

He didn’t move.

I crept forward, crouched, and shook his shoulder. Nothing.

I pressed my fingers to his throat. Pulse, yes.

I shook his shoulder again.

Behind me I heard Cooper, “What’s happening, Lexi?”

“Some guy, unconscious! Bring your phone!” I leaned over the guy’s mouth and listened, he was breathing.

I was shivering, “Bring my sweater!”

Cooper tossed a flashlight towards me and raced back to the house. I should have gotten the phone first. It would take a moment for an ambulance to get here.

I picked up the flashlight and looked all around.

The guy had a handsome, chiseled face, light brown hair, and a beard.

I looked over his clothing — he was wearing a pale linen shirt, with embroidery at the cuffs, a plaid kilt, and a cloak.

I shone the light on the edge and it looked like a real fur trim.

His boots were almost more like elf shoes, form fitting and without heavy soles, fur sticking out of the top.

He had a long knife sheathed on his hip.

It looked like there was a long sword under his body.

I noticed the guy’s shirt was torn at his stomach, a pine twig embedded in it. I peeked in the hole to see he was bleeding. I looked all around and then up at the tree. Branches were broken.

Must have been the wind from that storm.

Cooper raced up. A sweater was deposited in my arms. “What the hell — where’d this guy come from?”

“I have no idea. None at all. Can you call 911?” I stuffed my arms in the sweater sleeves and then adjusted the guy’s cloak over his shoulders while Cooper called in the emergency.

He put his hand over the phone. “What should I tell them happened?”

“Best guess? He was walking through the woods and got hit by a branch in the storm.”

“Why’s he in our woods—?” He held up a finger as the 911 controller came back on the line. He paced explaining where we were and what had happened.

He hung up and walked back over to me. “They’re on their way.”

“Great.” I checked the guy’s breathing again. Sort of poked and prodded his shoulder and adjusted his hands.

Cooper looked at his phone.

He huffed. “I don’t have much time before I gotta go.”

“I know.”

He stood there for a second. “Is that a sword? What the hell is a guy with a sword doing in our woods?”

I directed the beam of light at the handle, it was leather-wrapped and there was a green stone on the hilt.

“I have no idea. And what’s this thing?” I picked up a metal device that was close in size and shape to a Red Bull can. In the flashlight’s beam I could see it had small markings on the sides. “Weird.”

“I have no idea, never seen anything like it.”

“Me neither.”

He looked at his phone again and exhaled.

I said, “You know, we don’t both have to wait for the ambulance, I mean, neither of us do, really. I’m just being nice. He’s a trespasser, you know, so you can go back to bed, grab a last bit of sleep before you go.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You honestly think I’m going to leave you alone out here with a guy with a sword?”

“I guess not, but you’ve got a plane to catch. You need to be rested. You’re irritated.”

He said, “Yeah, of course I am, but it’s not your fault, Lexi, you didn’t magically conjure up a strange guy on your lawn. You didn’t draw him here. Let me huff. I’m not leaving you alone, he’s probably drugged out or something.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

He grew quiet.

I asked, “Did you just fall asleep standing up?”

“Little bit, might fall over.” He dropped down on his ass beside me, sat crosslegged, and put his chin on his hand. He yawned, then said, sleepily, “Should I go get my gun?”

“I don’t think it’s necessary, he’s unconscious.”

“If he wakes up, nudge me.”

“Of course.”

We sat in the darkness, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Cooper dozing in and out.

It was a long time to be sitting vigil with a stranger, my mind worked through all the scenarios: stalker, trespasser, villain, friend? I checked out his clothes, checked his pulse now and again.

The ambulance drove up with no siren because it was about 4 am. I nudged Coop and whispered, “Ambulance is here.”

He looked around bleary eyed and stood up, brushing off his pants. “Guy hasn’t moved?”

“Nope, still out.”

Cooper looked at his watch.

I said, “You can go in, I’ll talk to them, you gotta get ready to go.”

He kissed my cheek and headed up to the house.

I was exhausted, but also my nerves were jangled and there would be no more sleeping. Cooper would be leaving in an hour and I had planned to see him off.

I needed coffee.

The medics, with headlights on their hats, rushed down the lawn to see what they were dealing with. I waved hello, lit in their beams.

One of them asked, “Friend? What happened to him?”

“Not a friend, I have no idea. We had a storm, and then the door was banging on the house.” I pointed up there for no reason. “I looked out and saw him on the ground.”

A medic was kneeling beside the guy, peering in his eyes and checking his vitals. Then the medics conferred before one ran up the lawn to the driveway for the gurney and the backboard.

“Backboard? You think he’s hurt his back?”

“Could be, you didn’t move him?”

“No, he’s too big to move, I… how could he hurt his back?” I looked up in the tree, pointing my flashlight beam up. I hadn’t been wrong, there were broken limbs. “He might have fallen out of the tree?”

A medic followed my eyes up. “I don’t see why he would be up in a tree — this is your property, right?”

“Yeah, sure, why would he be in my tree? Plus it’s the middle of the night. If he needed sleep there’s ten better places to sleep.” I lowered the beam. “It makes no sense.”

The stretcher arrived, the backboard was maneuvered under his back, velcro around his head, lifted up, he had the sword beside him, his knees showing under his kilt, looking ancient, placed on the modern stretcher.

He slept through the whole thing. Then the medics pushed the stretcher up the lawn to the driveway.

I followed behind them, in case — in case of what, I had no idea.

At the waiting ambulance, the stretcher was pushed inside. A medic asked, “Will you be filing a police report?”

“Not sure, why would I… what hospital are you taking him to?” My eyes had drawn again to the tree, and then back to his handsome face. I felt dazed, kind of confused.

“We’re taking him to Regional. The reason for the police report is because he might be a stalker or staking out the house or something. He’s carrying a weapon.”

I raised my brow. “Oh good point, I didn’t think of that, yeah...” My eyes went back to the tree — could he have seen through my window? My open curtains in my bedroom window? I gulped. “Yeah, he was carrying a sword... maybe I should.”

They closed the door on the ambulance and I watched it ride away down the two lane country road.

I walked into the house and in the predawn made a big pot of coffee while my orange Maine Coon cat, Dude, made his trilling noise, pacing back and forth on the countertop.

He wasn’t as big as a full-size Maine Coon cat, only about sixteen pounds instead of growing to over twenty, so my guess was that he was a mix, but he had the personality, being crazy smart and wildly loyal almost like a dog. He had walked up a stray and moved in about two years ago.

I heard Coop turn on the shower upstairs.

I said to the cat, “Hey, Dude, you know Coop doesn’t like you up here.”

Dude ignored me, making his trilling noise, giving me a look, and with his paw, knocked over the salt shaker.

“Coop’s going to be grumpy, he hasn’t slept enough.”

Dude had so much fluff around his neck that it seemed like a mane, and gave him a dignified, kingly look, even with his torn ear, and the knotted fur.

I tried to keep him untangled but he did not care to be combed unless I talked him into it.

And that took almost as long as it did to detangle his coat.

He seemed unfazed by my concern about Coop’s mood.

I checked the clock — Cooper needed to leave in thirty-five minutes.

I stood at the kitchen sink, petting Dude, looking out the window, thinking about the strange man. What had he been doing out there?

I was interrupted when I heard the shower turn off and the thud of Cooper’s feet as he stepped out of the tub. He had a full day of travel and then high-stakes business meetings for the next few days.

He had needed his sleep — it was a terrible night to have had so much chaos.