Once she put the kids to bed, Elizabeth herselfclimbed into bed. Peter was downstairs, watching a baseball game.She pulled out her e-reader, and attempted to continue on where shehad left off. She was so tired, she was having trouble focusing onthe words. They weren't sinking in but she kept reading.
Good God, it was Nellie Grogan.Ben was almost positive. He had dreamed about her more times thanhe cared to admit as a teenager, and even into college. What inhell was she doing here, on his doorstep, in the mountains, in themiddle of an ice storm, looking as though she had beenbeaten?
"Oh my God, Nellie? Are you allright?"
He kept calling her name, but shewas not responding. She had a look of bewilderment that clouded hergreen eyes. Her eyes looked too alien to belong on her face. Haroldwas licking her hand, nudging her with his muzzle, but she did noteven seem to notice.
"Nellie? Are you hurt? You areNellie, aren't you?" Maybe it was not Nellie. He began to doubt hisrecall. Was he so desperate and delusional that he had conjured hishigh school fantasy? Was he that drunk? Was this woman evenhere?
"We need to get you warmed up. Howlong were you outside for? Nellie? Ma'am? You need to warm up. Weneed to get you out of these wet clothes. Ma'am?"
She made no attempt to move, juststanding there, practically convulsing with cold. He looked at herhands. Shit, they were very pale. He hoped that she did not havefrostbite that would need medical attention. There was no way hecould get her out tonight. Ben knew he would have to handle thishimself. From inside his clouded, inebriated brain, he tried torecall proper First Aid procedures.
Ben thought he had to warm her upby removing her clothes. Nellie, or whoever she was, was soaked tothe bone. Her jeans were torn at the knees and her legs appeared tobe bleeding. She looked so pale. He worried that she was in shock.She still made no attempt to move, even to take off her useless,sopping windbreaker. Ben had no choice. He had to get started. Heset to work, slowly. She just watched him, her eyes huge. They wereless clouded, but somehow no less alien. They were too large forher alabaster face. He peeled off her soaked coat. The dogcontinued to lick her hands. The woman let out a small sigh. Benstopped abruptly, pulled back, so as not to scare her.
Ben tried to steady his voice. Hisheart was racing. He was sure this was Nellie. He wondered if shehad a head injury. He continued on, reassuring her, trying to makeher comfortable. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, but we've got a get youout of these cold wet clothes and see if you have hypothermia. Canyou do it Ma'am?"
She managed to give the tiny shakeof her head and closed her eyes. She looked like she was trying tolift her arm, but it only raised up a fraction of an inch before itdropped down and hung lifeless at her side. She looked utterlyhelpless. Ben kept talking as he worked, his voice trying to sootheher. He explained, step-by-step, what he was going to do. What hewas going to take off next. He bent over and lifted her soaked pantleg, looking for the top of her shoe.
Jesus Christ! This woman wasn'twearing any socks. What would possess someone to wander outside inan ice storm wearing only flimsy clogs without even socks? Her feetwere bright red and ice cold. The Nubuck of the shoes had providedlittle protection. He hoped she wasn't going to lose any toes. Hehad slid his hand down the side of her leg, as one did with ahorse, and she instinctively lifted her foot, steadying herself byplacing her hand on his shoulder.
At her first touch, Ben felt ashot of adrenaline race through his body. Thoughts began to floodhis brain, and he worked hard to press them down so he could focuson the task at hand. Which, happened to be keeping this womanalive, not bedding her. He clenched his jaw, and tried to focus.She pulled her hand back slightly. Ben continued to speak to her insoft, soothing tones, as one does to a child or pet, trying not tolet on to the devious and degenerate thoughts that he was not ableto suppress. He stripped off her frozen clog and she reflexivelyplaced her foot on the faded wooden floor.
"I've got to do the otherone."
Finally, in a small, weak voice,she croaked, "Janell."
The sound of her voice, no matterhow little, shocked him. He stopped and pulled back suddenly. Hedid the briefest of moments, regrouped and smiled. Ben knew that itwas Nellie Grogan. He was not crazy or delusional. At least, notabout this.
"Okay then Janell, when did youstop going by Nellie?"
She squinted at him, trying tofigure out who he was. She had a guilty look that one wears whenthey forget the name of the person they are introducing.
Ben again bent over to take offher other shoe. She leaned on him again to steady herself. Hertouch made him feel warm inside. He stood up, but lookeduncomfortable again. "Janell," he said, the name sounding foreignon his tongue, "You need to take the rest of your clothes off.You've got to do this to get warm."
But she just stood
