I see his face, his pale blue eyes and upturned button nose. He’s standing at the window of our apartment, looking at the beautiful Los Angeles sunrise. “There’s only one thing more beautiful than watching the sun rise.” He said quietly.

I came up behind him, wrapping him in my arms and resting my chin on his shoulder, breathing him in. The smell of acrylic paint filled my nose, he’d stayed up all night again feverishly painting. “What’s that?” I asked. “More beautiful than the sunrise.”

He turned around, putting his hands on my waist and pulling me closer to him. “You.” He said. “Always you.”

He kissed me then, I remember the feel of his lips on mine. His soft lips, the tickle of his mustache against my lip. He pulled away, tracing my lip with his paint stained thumb. I knew when I met him that no one else in the world would ever look at me the way he did. When he looked into my eyes I felt like he could see me for who I was, the raw, true me.

“I love you, Cedar.” I said to him.

He smiled at me, I could feel his heartbeat quicken against my chest. “Marry me.” He said.

I took a step back, stunned. “What? Really?” I asked, breathlessly.

“Yeah, I’m serious. I love you, Blythe. Marry me.” He said, taking my hands. “I don’t want or need anyone but you. Let’s go today, marry me.”

I felt my cheeks flush, butterflies swirled around inside me. “Okay.” I said.

~

There was not a single part of my body that didn’t hurt. The only thing I could register when I regained consciousness was pain. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t make out where I was. My body felt compressed, I tried to move but between the shooting pain and whatever I was wrapped up in I was trapped.

I haven’t overdosed again, yet I’m strapped up on a bed. This was no hospital, I could smell burning wood, and just make out some of the furniture in the room. I was in someone's house. I remember the cabin I saw, just before the fall. I must be in that cabin, but the sun was just begging to rise when I saw it. It's almost pitch black in here.

Then I heard footsteps. Big, heavy, thumping footsteps, and then the creaking of a door. For a second, it was all I could do not to panic, I wouldn’t be all tied up unless some lunatic found me out there. A light was turned on, and I was disoriented again. Even with my eyes squeezed shut, the light attacked my eyes making my head pound.

I heard a loud thump, and then a man's voice. “A-are you awake?” He asked.

I didn’t reply. I was too busy willing my eyes to open again to make sure that thump I heard wasn't a body. Then, all of the lights went off, and I could feel his hulking footsteps coming over to me. He stopped at my left side and paused, suspense rose in me but all the man did was turn on a lamp on the small table next to me.

“I’m sorry,” The man said. “I didn’t mean to blind you there.”

He chuckled a bit. I gave him a confused stare and looked at my surroundings. I was in a room, on what I could only assume to be a pull out couch. To my right a flight of stairs that went up to the loft above my head. Next to that was a small kitchen area, with an old wood stove, that was where the smell was coming from. There was a small little kitchen island with three chairs pushed under the lip of the counter, and behind that were two very comfortable looking chairs sitting in front of an unlit fireplace.

I looked up at the man. He was a large, built guy. I couldn’t really make out what he looked like, He was wearing really good quality winter wear. A thick coat, snow pants, and large snow boots. He had on a black hat, and he was covered in so much snow I couldn’t make out the color of his beard.

“Who are you?” I asked, looking him over.

“My name is Rowan.” He said, in probably the deepest voice I’ve ever heard. “I was just about to run into town this morning when Sadie found you out in the snow. I thought you were dead there at first.”

“Who is Sadie?” I asked.

He chuckled again, “She’s my old st. bernard.” He said. “Lucky we found you when we did. I think you just missed hypothermia.”

“Why am I strapped to this bed?” I asked, with an accusatory tone.

Rowan removed his hat and coat, hanging them on the coat rack next to the door. “I wouldn’t stay strapped as much as bundled. Unless you mean your arm.” He said. “That’s just a sling I had to improvise for your arm. I bundled you up because you needed all the warmth you could get.”

I just looked at him. He pulled one of the chairs at the kitchen island over and sat on it. “Looks to me like you fell off a cliff a little higher up the mountain. Your arm was dislocated, I took care of popping that back in its socket while you were out. I figured you wouldn’t want to be awake for that. Also, it seems like you sprained your ankle and might’ve broken a rib or two.” He continued, studying me. “You might have a concussion as well, but there’s no way for me to tell for certain, but you woke up so that’s a pretty good sign.

“So, why am I here and not in a hospital?” I spat, the pain in my head was building.

Rowan nodded, and walked over to the door, turning on a light outside and opening the door. From where I lay, I could see just out the door. Outside there was already a foot of snow on the porch alone, I couldn’t see anything but white past the porch awning. It was a full on blizzard out there, the snow plummeting out of the sky in huge bunches.

I lay back on the pillow. “A fucking blizzard?” I sighed.

Rowan shut the door. “I figured we’d just wait it out… I can keep an eye on you in the meantime.”

I scoffed. “You don’t happen to have a degree in medicine, do you?” I asked, sarcastically.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

This time he audibly laughed, and pointed to the wall to the left of me. On the wall was a framed medical degree…from Stanford University. I rolled my eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I mumbled.

“Technically speaking, I’m a board certified oncologist, and yeah you do need a medical degree for that.” He said. “Look you’ve gotta be in a ton of pain, I have some pills I could give you to help.”

“No.” I said quickly. “I can’t take anything stronger than ibuprofen.”

“Look, I’ve seen grown men with injuries way less painful than what you’re going through right about now.” He said. “You’re gonna need something to bring down your fever if you get one.”

“Got any Tylenol?” I asked.

Rowan brought two pills with a glass of water, and helped me sit up so I could take them. Once I was upright I noticed I was completely naked under all of the blankets.

“Where are my clothes?” I demanded, pulling the blanket up to my chest with the only arm that didn’t hurt to move.

“I had to cut them off, to assess the damage.” He said, “That’s how I found out about the possible broken ribs.”

“You could have at least covered me, perv.” I spat.

“Technically, I did. With about four blankets.” He said, I rolled my eyes. “You were out for quite a while. I really think you should try your best not to fall asleep.”

“How long?” I asked. “How long was I out, I mean.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “About fourteen, or fifteen hours. At least since Sadie found you, you were partially covered in snow, I’m genuinely shocked hypothermia didn’t set in.”

I took a deep breath, swallowed my pills and did my best to try to relax. Now that he was unfrozen and dry, I could see his full, long, and unkept beard. He had thick deep brown hair and his eyes were the color of jade. He had to be at least six foot four, and his biceps were bigger than my thighs.

“Where’s Sadie?” I asked.

He was crouched near the fireplace, trying to get a fire going. “She’s in the spare room, I didn’t want her to get too excited and jump all over you.” He said.

“I have clothes in my backpack.” I said.

The fire started, Rowan stood up and turned to me. “I didn’t find you with a backpack.”

I put a hand to my forehead. I took my pack off to sit against the tree before I fell. My eyes stung with tears, but I willed them away. “I don’t really want to be naked, in a strange man's house. Doctor or not.”

Rowan nodded. “Understood, I’ll see if I can find something for you, but you’ll swim in anything I own.”

“Anything is better than being completely naked. Thanks.” I said.

Rowan trudged up the stairs, I could hear him opening and closing drawers up there, then he came back down and handed a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I took them with my left hand and started attempting to put them on. I was able to get the shirt around my neck, and then my left arm through the sleeve, but my right arm was in a sling and I could barely move it. Rowan was over in the kitchen, stoking the wood stove. I tried a few more times, in vain, to get the shirt on until the pain of even attempting to move it was too painful to bear.

“Um…” I said quietly, “Do you think you could give me a hand? With the shirt, I mean.”

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I mean, just a few minutes ago, you called me a perv.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t get my arm in the sleeve.” I said.

Rowan smirked and walked over to me, he took the sling off and held my arm still maneuvering the shirt around my arm. Once my arm was through the sleeve he carefully put the sling back on. It didn’t surprise me that he was a doctor. He was rugged, but he knew what he was doing. Throughout the whole process, he never hurt me once.

“This blizzard could last hours, or it could last days.” He sighed, “I live all the way up here to be away from people, other than going to town a couple times a month, I don’t really see or speak to anyone. Is it too much to ask for us to just be cool with each other until this whole thing is over?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry I just–” He stopped me.

“You don’t need to apologize.” He said. “You’re going through a lot right now, I just want to make it easy on the both of us.”

I nodded. “I never told you my name,” I said, “It’s Blythe.”

Rowan smiled. “That’s a nice name.”

I thanked him. “So, you live up here by yourself?” I asked.

“Yeah, I don’t meet a lot of women up here, so far from civilization.” He chuckled.

“You laugh a lot.” I said, flatly.

“I think it’s a… way for me to buffer conversations. Again, mountain man, away from people, etc.” He said, walking toward the kitchen. “Are you uh, hungry? I’ve got some chicken soup, you should probably eat at least a little, you're like really, really skinny.”

“I get that a lot, comes with the anorexia.” I said.

He paused for a minute. “I’m sorry, I said that. It was–”

I cut him off. “Don’t. It’s not a big deal, I will eat.” I said.

He nodded and grabbed a large pot from one of the cabinets. He took it over to the sink and turned it on, filling the pot.

“How do you have running water up here?” I asked. “A-and power for that matter?”

He smiled. “My folks built this place when I was a kid. My mother refused to live up here without proper plumbing and hot water. So my dad designed an entire self-sufficient plumbing system. Everything runs on solar panels and hydro-energy from a river nearby. Even the hot water heater in the basement.”

“Holy shit. That’s amazing.” I said, astonished.

He laughed. “My dad was a big advocate for saving the planet. It also helps that he and my mom made boat loads of money from selling some of our land to the state.”

“What?” I asked.

“Yeah, my family owned a pretty big amount of land up here. People were always trespassing on it, hiking and what not. Some people decided it should be turned into a nature preserve, the state reached out and offered my family a ton of money for the whole properly, but they didn’t want to let it go, so they came up with a deal, we’d sell half the land, they could make the other half into a nature preserved, and the county would pay us to be glorified park rangers.” He said, clearly amused with himself.

“Shit, you guys really lucked out.” I said.

He shrugged, sticking the pot of water on the stove. “Yeah, for a while.”

“Where are they now?” I asked. “Your parents.”

He took a deep breath in, “Well, my mom passed away right after I graduated high school, and my dad passed away about two years ago.” He said. “My mom had breast cancer, after she died I wanted to do everything in my power for people battling any kind of cancer. I wouldn’t wish that shit on my worst enemy.”

I looked at him, there was so much pain in his eyes. “I’m so–” I stopped myself.

I cleared my throat and tried again. “I think your mom would be really proud of you.” I said.

He nodded. “What about you? Are your parents still alive?” He asked.

“One of them, My dad died when I was a kid. My mom is a raging narcissistic bitch who never talks about him. I don’t even know how he died, she refuses to let anyone talk about him.” I said.

He winced. “Oof. That’s harsh.”

I shrugged with my only usable shoulder. He reached in the freezer and grabbed a large frozen bag. “What’s that?”

“My aunt, she lives in town. I visit her every time I go down there and she gives me giant batches of premade food. It’s always soups, or stews, even chili.” Rowan said, slowly lowering the bag into the pot. “I could make it myself, but it makes her feel better when she does. She hates that I’ve been living up here alone.”

“You’re not alone though.” I say. “You’ve got Sadie. Who I’m dying to meet.”

Rowan laughed. “Soon. She gets really excited, I’d hate for her to hurt you.”

The mention of pain brought me back. My whole body ached. Tylenol was doing little to nothing to stop it, but there was nothing I could do. Taking anything stronger than that would risk a relapse and I couldn’t have that. I took a breath and winced, the pain in my side was sharp.

“I really think you should take something a little stronger than Tylenol. I have a few painkillers, nothing crazy but I’m sure it’ll take the edge off.” He said.

“I can’t.” I said quietly. “I can’t risk it.”

He started ladling soup into a bowl. “How long have you been in recovery?” He asked.

I stared at him. “Eighteen months.” I say through gritted teeth.”

“That’s a long time. I’m happy for you.” He said, bringing a bowl over to me. “Here, just lay back. Relax, straining yourself only makes it worse.”

He pulled up a chair, and began trying to spoon feed me soup. “I can do it myself.” I spat.

Rowan nodded and held out the bowl to me, I glared at him. “That’s what I thought.” he said, grabbing the spoon and carefully bringing it to my lips.

“How’d you know I was in recovery?” I asked between spoonfuls.

“I saw my fair share of injuries when I was an intern. No one with injuries like yours would turn down opioids, except for former addicts.” He said. “I’m not judging you. Some of the strongest people I’ve ever met were addicts.”

“When can I sleep?” I asked, this wasn’t really a conversation I wanted to have with someone I just met.

He brought the spoon to my lips again. “Eat a little more. We’ll wait for a little while afterward, if you’re still doing okay in let’s say an hour and a half, I’ll let you get some sleep.”

I huffed, which was a horrible idea. Pain shot through my chest. I nodded. Trying to get my body to relax a bit.

“So, what now?” I asked.