My married sister
- 2 years ago
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SolitudeChapter 3 free porn video
When they transferred Rhonda from the ICU to the surgical floor, I was in her room waiting for her.
She looked pretty rough, of course; pale, hair going every which way, IV in her arm and a tube coming out of her chest, casts on her left arm and left lower leg. In spite of her obvious misery, she smiled when she saw me and said, "Here's my hero!" Her voice was kind of hoarse from the tube that had been in her throat during her surgery.
My response was a complete surprise to me. I choked up and I couldn't stop the tears from running down my cheeks as I took her hand and kissed it. When I thought I could control my voice, I said, "I'm no hero. Hell, I've never been so scared in my life!"
She pulled my face down to hers and kissed me on the cheek. "That's what makes a hero, kid; doing what you have to do even when you're scared shitless!"
I didn't want to hear any more hero talk, so I asked, "So how long do you have to stay in the hospital?"
"The doc says maybe a week, depending on whether or not I stay free of any complications. There were a lot of cuts and scrapes on my back and my butt from the fall, so they're concerned about any little infections that might crop up. He says he can't imagine how I survived an arrow in my chest and a thirty-foot fall, but that I'm in much better shape than I should be." She shrugged and added, "Guess it just wasn't my time."
"Well, I'm happy for that! Um, I guess someone has already called your son?"
"Oh hell no! Don't even suggest it! I'm sure he's having a great time at camp and I don't intend to mess that up. As long as I'm not dying, why should I ruin his summer?"
I thought that was carrying stoicism a little too far. "I guess I can see your point, but if I was your kid, I'd be highly pissed that you left me out of the loop."
"Yeah, well you're not my kid, you're my hero!"
"Stop with that, will ya!"
Back at the cabin, I tried to stay busy just doing anything to keep me occupied, keep my mind off Rhonda and what she was going through. How could anyone be so cold and unfeeling that they'd just casually put a arrow into a woman's chest like that. He had to be some kind of sociopath! I couldn't get my brain around that kind of callous, senseless behavior. I guess Granddad was right, that I'd led a very protected life. I mean, I knew there were a lot of bad people in the world, but I'd never been personally touched by that kind of evil.
I puttered around the cabin fixing little things, organizing the canned food on the shelves, washing all the eating and cooking utensils, cleaning the ashes from the wood stove, anything to take up time. I tried reading, but I couldn't concentrate well enough to follow the story. I'd get two sentences into a paragraph and my mind would wander back to Rhonda and what she'd suffered because she was doing her job.
I visited her every morning and evening for six days, and I was there to drive her home when she was released. All the tubes were gone, her left arm was in a cast and sling and she had a walking cast on her left leg. She managed to move around pretty well with a cane.
When we got to her house, which turned out to be a nice little log home just a couple of miles from the ranger station, I helped her up the steps and unlocked the door. Inside, I asked, "Could one of the rangers drive me back up to the cabin?"
"What for? I can't drive with a busted wing and drumstick, so you have the use of the 4-Runner until you head home. Anyhow, don't be in such a big hurry. I'm just going to gather up some odds and ends, then I'm coming with you."
"WHAT! Jesus, Rhonda, you're still recovering! You can't be isolated on a mountaintop like that! What if something goes wrong and you have to see your doctor?"
"Then I guess you can drive me. Look, kid, for the next week or two, the doc says I need someone to keep a close eye on me. Well, I'm choosing you."
"But what the hell do I know about nursing somebody? You need a professional!"
"No, I need a caring, responsible person and you fit that description perfectly."
It was moving too fast for me. "Well, wouldn't it be better if we stayed here, then? I mean, you've got all the modern conveniences. I could sleep in your son's room and you'd definitely be a lot more comfortable."
"You're not talking me out of it, Curtis! I have my reasons. What I need and want is peace and quiet, and what could be more peaceful and quieter than a cabin on a mountaintop? Now stop arguing with me and help me get packed, will ya?"
You can probably guess whose will held sway. An hour later, I was helping her navigate (slowly) from the dirt road up the mountainside to the cabin. Once I got her comfortable on my bed, I made three trips down to the 4-Runner to bring up her personal stuff in a backpack and an overnight bag, two boxes of food from her pantry and refrigerator, two sleeping bags and two inflatable mattresses. I couldn't figure out why she needed two sleeping bags unless one was for extra padding, or we were expecting company.
Once I had everything carried up to the cabin, I built a fire in the stove to make a pot of coffee and started preparing lunch out of sandwich stuff we'd brought from her house.
She was a long way from a hundred percent, and the morning's activities wore her out. After a light lunch, she took some pain meds and got settled on the bed for a much needed nap. As she got comfortable, she asked me to come sit by her.
She took my hand and kissed my knuckles. "Curtis, you know I wouldn't have survived if you hadn't tried to reach me on the radio, so no matter how much it embarrasses you to hear it, it was your caring and courage that got me out of that fix alive. If your grandfather ever doubts for a minute that you have what it takes, you just send him to me. You're a good man, Curtis! Don't you ever doubt that."
"Thanks, Rhonda. That means a lot coming from you." I leaned down and kissed her on her forehead. "Now get some sleep, 'cause you've still got a lot of mending to do."
She slept through most of the day.
That evening, following Rhonda's step by step instructions, I managed to cook up a poor man's chicken cacciatore with leftovers from her fridge and some brown rice. It was pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.
She still didn't have much of an appetite, but I made sure there were no leftovers that would go to waste. As we were finishing up our meal, I asked, "So, why do you think that guy shot you, Rhonda? I mean, poaching is one thing, but facing a charge like attempted murder is a pretty big leap. What happened? Did he just panic, or what?"
"Damned if I know, but I recognized one of them. In fact, I'd busted him before for poaching and he wound up paying a hell of a fine because it was his second time before the same judge. I guess he knew it was gonna go hard on him if he was arrested again."
"So he just decided to put an arrow in you rather than face the music. What an asshole! Um, pardon my French."
She giggled and agreed, "Yeah, well he is an asshole, but it wasn't him that shot me. See, when I saw his old, beat-up pickup parked in the trees, I recognized it and tracked him into the woods. I found him dressing out a buck that was hanging from a limb. I didn't even see the one who shot me until I turned to sneak back to my truck to call the state cops on my radio. That's when I got hit, and I only got a glimpse of him standing there in the trees with his bow as I staggered a few steps and fell over the edge. Damned arrow hit me like a sledgehammer. I was just lucky I landed on my back.
"Anyhow, as I was lying there thinking my time was up and wondering who was gonna raise my kid, I heard the guy who was dressing out the deer shout something like 'Jesus Christ, Dave! What'd you do that for?' The other guy, the one who shot me goes, 'Because I ain't goin' to jail because of some cunt ranger!'
"I must have taken a pretty good whack on the head when I fell, because that's when everything went black. I don't remember anything else until I became aware that I was freezing my ass off in the dark. I guess for some reason, they didn't come down to make sure I was dead. Either that or they looked over the edge and decided I looked dead. When I heard you trying to get me on the radio, at first, I thought I was hallucinating."
I started clearing the dishes. "Well if you know one of them, I'd think that would make it easier to track them down, wouldn't it?"
"You'd think, but as of early this morning, they hadn't been arrested yet; at least, according the State Patrol investigator. They know who he is because they got a good fingerprint off the arrow shaft you broke off. I guess he's got quite a rap sheet.
"Anyhow, that's one of the reasons I wanted to come up here instead of staying home by myself. I'm sure by now those two know I survived, and I'm the only witness against them if they get arrested and charged. My address would be easy enough to look up in the phone book. Most likely, if they have one functioning brain cell between them, they've lit out for parts unknown."
I understood then why she was so insistent on coming to the cabin. "Yeah, that makes sense. So you don't think they know about this place, then."
She got kind of a worried look on her face. "I sure hope they don't, but just in case, I've got my .22 magnum revolver under the pillow there, and we need to keep that .30/30 loaded and close by. I've got my cell phone, so it's not like we're all that isolated. I kinda wish we had a dog, though; something serious like a hundred and fifty pound mastiff with an appetite for assholes."
"I didn't see that .22 when I carried your stuff up the hill."
"It was in my backpack."
For some reason, I had the feeling I wouldn't be sleeping all that soundly for the rest of my stay.
Time goes by pretty fast when you're enjoying yourself, and Rhonda was good company. Taking care of her was hardly any bother at all because she insisted on doing almost everything herself. About all I needed to do was apply some antibiotic ointment to some of the cuts on her back, and those were almost all healed up.
I know it's kind of sleazy to say this, but one positive thing about the wounds on her back and her boob is that she couldn't (or wouldn't) wear a bra, and that meant she always had those nipple points on the front of her T-shirt. From what I could see, I don't think she really needed that bra to hold her shape.
Within a couple of days of our taking up housekeeping at the cabin, she was helping out with some of the chores in spite of my protests. Her cooking was definitely far superior to mine, so I was eating pretty darned well. It was impressive what she could do with canned food and pasta.
For sleeping arrangements, I insisted she take the bed and I used one of her sleeping bags. She made a big fuss about it but that was one of the few disputes that went my way. Truth be told, I actually slept better on the floor than in the bed because it sagged in the middle.
Daily ablutions required a little cooperative planning since we didn't have a bathroom to speak of. In the mornings, I'd heat up a bucket of water, split it with her, and go outside to wash myself while she was doing the same thing inside. I was always careful to knock before re-entering the cabin. I can tell you that washing your body in the early morning outdoors in the mountains can cause some serious shrinkage of your junk. There was even one morning when there was a light coating of frost on the grass. That made my washing up a little less than meticulous, and I was knocking on the door pretty quickly.
That's when our relationship changed.
Rhonda gave voice to the logical solution, one that I'd secretly wished for but didn't have the balls to suggest. She recommended it on that frosty morning when I came in from the cold shivering and with a decidedly blue tinge to my lips.
She looked at me and laughed, "OK, Curtis, enough of this nonsense! I've seen naked men before and I'll bet you've seen naked women before. If we're not adult enough to handle that, then shame on us, right?"
I was very nervous but pleased - no, excited - about her suggestion. "Um, makes sense to me. I'll try real hard not to stare."
She stuck out her lower lip in a pout and said, "Oh really? How disappointing."
Marisol
- 03.06.2022
- 12
- 0
