Cody's Come Home. Mary Sullivan

do.” His voice sounded fake.

      “No, Cody, I can see in your eyes that you doubt me.” She grasped fists full of his jacket and leaned forward, willing him to believe her. “I’m not hysterical. This was no accident. He chased me away from the popular paths. Whenever I tried to head somewhere safe, he shot at me. I was terrified because it was real.”

      Cody turned away and packed his bag, afraid to let her see his rage. She’d been intimidated yesterday, frightened out of her wits. He didn’t need to make her afraid of another man.

      “Why didn’t you phone out?”

      “I didn’t have time! Whenever I stopped to catch my breath, he was right there behind me.”

      “Did you yell for help?”

      “I tried, but he chased me into this remote area of the park. There was no one here. And then I figured it was best to stay silent because the only person who’d hear my screams would be him. I was frightened. And then the trail fell away right from under my feet—I lost my phone, hurt myself. I was angry by that point.”

      “What happened after you fell?”

      “I lay still for a long time hoping he would leave.”

      Cody’s blood rushed through his veins. He wanted to find the guy and hurt him. Badly. He couldn’t imagine the sheer terror she must have felt while waiting to see whether her pursuer was going to come down to kill her. He cursed under his breath.

      “I guess he either didn’t want to climb down to check on me,” Aiyana said, “or he assumed I was dead.”

      Cody still couldn’t wrap his head around this. It was so far outside anything that should be happening in Accord, Colorado. LA? Yeah, sure. Violence was a fact of life there. But Accord? Never.

      Of all the scenarios he’d been ready to face if he found Aiyana, this was so far out of the box he didn’t know how to deal with it.

      He glanced around, but all he saw were trees and brush. He wanted to steer the conversation to something positive, but he also had to know what he was dealing with here. “Is that why you were defensive when I showed up?”

      She nodded. “I prayed it was help but also thought it might be him coming back to finish me off.”

      He hated that she looked so scared. “Has there been any trace of him today?”

      She shook her head. “I haven’t heard or seen a thing.”

      “That’s good, okay? I’m here now. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Okay?”

      She nodded. Her worried frown eased. A bit.

      He held her hands until they warmed and she smiled, weakly, but at least she seemed less frightened.

      Using the strength of his will to calm her, he set about cataloging her injuries: badly bruised chest and wrenched shoulder, serious bullet graze on arm, useless ankle, not to mention a whole host of bruises all over her body.

      Anger churned in him as riotously as the stream whose banks had overflowed through the night. That someone, anyone, would do this to a girl as wonderful as Aiyana...

      Not a girl. A woman. He turned away from the golden skin tempting him. Wanting her was the last thing he should be feeling at a time like this.

      “Sorry to do this to you, but we have to get you out of those soaking jeans. The last thing we want is for you to get hypothermia.”

      “I don’t know how we can, though—not with the way you’ve bandaged my ankle.”

      “I know, and I’m not going to undo it. We need to keep the swelling down as much as possible.”

      He took his Leatherman out of his pocket and grasped the hem of one of the pant legs. “I hope you aren’t in love with these. They’re about to be toast.”

      “I can’t go out of here without pants.”

      “I brought clothing for you.”

      He flipped out the small, sharp scissors and lifted one eyebrow.

      She nodded. “Do it.”

      He cut a straight line up the outside of one leg and then the other. Aiyana lay down and raised her hips. Together, they slipped the jeans out from under her butt.

      Her underpants, Cody noted, were the same mauve as her bra, the color beautiful against her naturally tanned skin.

      “If I turn my back, can you get out of your wet underwear on your own?”

      “I’ll try.”

      Facing away from her and studying the rugged splendor of the forest around him, he listened to her struggle. “How are you doing?”

      “I can’t— Damn. I can’t do this.”

      “I’m going to help you. Okay?”

      She didn’t answer.

      “Okay, Aiyana?”

      “Let’s just leave them on me.”

      “No. I don’t know how long it’s going to take us to walk out. We need you warm and dry.”

      She didn’t respond, but after a while said, “Cody, let me do this my way. I’m more comfortable leaving them on.”

      “But,” he started before realizing he was being overbearing. “You’re right. Of course. I’m going to dry you off though before we get you into clean clothes. Is that okay?”

      “Yes, that’s fine.”

      He took his mom’s dry sweater and ran it briskly over all of her, deadening his senses, adopting as much of a clinical attitude as he could. At the moment, he needed to be less of a man and more of a friend.

      Goose bumps crawled across her skin.

      Gingerly, he pulled an undershirt over her head and threaded her arm through the sleeves. She didn’t utter so much as a peep, even though her lips thinned and turned white at the edges.

      “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

      Her smile wobbled.

      His mother had given him a pair of large cotton underpants and he pulled them up Aiyana’s legs, smoothing them over her hips beneath the shirt.

      The waist was too wide. “These were made for a larger seventy-year-old woman.”

      Aiyana huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “They’re dry. That’s all that matters.” She shivered.

      “Yeah.” He dressed her in a flannel shirt and a heavy sweater, but had to go slowly. It was taking a while.

      “Sorry it’s all too big,” he said. “It’s my mom’s. I figured Pearl’s clothing wouldn’t fit you.”

      “You’re right. Pearl’s clothes wouldn’t have fit me. She’s so tiny. I tower over her.”

      Tower? Not.

      “It doesn’t matter, Cody. I’m just happy to be warm.”

      “Good. You and my mom don’t exactly have the same style. Mom’s an old hippie at heart.”

      “I love your mother’s style. She’s so uniquely her.”

      He detected something in her tone. Envy, maybe? Why on earth would a woman as striking and handsome as Aiyana envy another woman?

      Her teeth were chattering again. “I got chilled to the bone last night. I can’t seem to warm up.”

      “Especially not when your skin is bare. I’ll hurry.”

      He grabbed a pair of long johns and eased them onto her feet and legs. She winced when he accidentally touched her ankle.

      “I’m trying to be gentle,” he said as he snugged them up over