Page 8 of Craving Stardust

Katie scampered after me, shooting terrified glances toward the bedroom. I paused only long enough to pat her a few times and murmur reassurance. She’d soon figure out he was too out of it to harm her. If I knew her, she’d leap up onto the bed and slowly make her way toward him, sniffing his feet first before approaching his face. I hoped she didn’t scare him too much if he woke up to her batting his nose with her paw, something she did with me when dawn was cracking the sky and she wanted me out of bed to open a can of wet food.

Loading his ship onto the big wagon wasn’t easy, but my grandfather’s winches helped. I was never more grateful that I’d worked with him during most of my summers while growing up.

As I dragged the ship up onto the wagon, I prayed it wouldn’t collapse beneath the weight. This thing was huge. Although, oddly enough, when I banged on it, it didn’t sound as if it was made out of metal. Not plastic, but something like it. Lightweight and slightly flexible. I guess something like that would work best when traveling through space.

I covered it with a huge tarp I found in one of the barn’s storage rooms, tying all the sides with bailing twine. Thanks, Gramps, for never throwing anything away.

As I worked, my heart froze at each random sound, and I kept second guessing what I was doing. Maybe I should call the government and tell them to come and take him. He might hurt me once he was able to move about. But something told me to protect him at all costs, and I trusted my instincts.

I sensed he’d do me no harm.

To avoid being seen hauling a tarp-covered spaceship down the road, I took the logging trail between the field and the back of my property and drove in through the back doors of the barn.

Rumbles echoed around me in the narrow space, and my heartrate slowed once the wagon was inside and I’d shut the doors and braced them closed with a bar.

I wanted to rush inside and make sure he was still breathing, but I had more work to do.

I unhitched the tractor and mounted the blade I used to plow my driveway in the winter, just like Gramps had done. The tractor sounded much too loud as I took it back down the logging trail to the field, and the engine whined as I shoved the dirt along the scrape made by Lordek’s spaceship. I wasn’t sure this was making much of a difference, but maybe someone seeing it would think I was prepping the field for planting crops.

With a pruning saw, I cut a bunch of evergreen limbs from the surrounding forest and covered the deep furrows etching across the meadow, hoping to make it look like the stubby trees and raspberry bushes overgrowing the area. It wouldn’t stand up to close scrutiny, but short of furrowing the field and planting corn or some other crop, there wasn’t anything else I could do.

My hands shook as I returned the tractor and saw to the barn and crept back inside my house. I couldn't shake off the mixture of fear and curiosity that coursed through me since finding Lordek. A freakin’ alien! I should be running away from him.

Instead, I ached to be with him.

Katie met me inside the kitchen, giving me a disgruntled look. Yup, I’d left her alone with a stranger. Stooping down, I scratched her neck to comfort her. After giving her some canned food to keep her occupied, I texted Tessa, telling her I couldn’t make it to the party after all. I had GI distress, something they talked about on TV all the time. Couldn’t get away from the toilet. I cringed as I typed the words, but I couldn’t tell her I’d found an alien and was hiding him inside my house.

I finished the text with sorry, see you Monday. Then I grabbed my first aid kit from the bathroom and hurried to Lordek.

The sight of him lying unconscious on my bed crushed my heart against my ribcage. How could I be this emotionally involved with someone so fast?

His features were both striking and foreign, undeniably alluring. His vulnerability stirred something within me, something feverish and protective. I’d do all I could to protect him, shield him.

“Hey, Lordek,” I whispered as I approached the bed. “I’ve got to take care of your wounds. We can’t leave your leg like that.” Doubts bullied my mind. I knew nothing about medicine. It was all I could do to put a bandage on a cut.

Should I take him to a hospital? If it was a choice of him dying or them helping him even while they’d then call the authorities, how could I do anything else?

“Check his wounds before deciding,” I announced to the room. “Maybe you can handle this yourself.”

Protect him. The feeling surged higher inside me.

After tugging back the blankets, I set to work, carefully cutting away his clothing, a challenging task in itself. The material was thick, almost as if metal threads had been woven into the fabric. Was it made of something similar to his spacecraft?

I was curious about everything. He was a stranger in my world, and I wanted to know where he’d come from, why he was here, and how long he hoped to stay. Although, his ship had crashed. Maybe he didn’t want to be here at all.

As his clothing fell away, I couldn't help but admire his muscular frame. He was breathtakingly gorgeous in an otherworldly way that left me both captivated and intimidated.

I made myself remain dispassionate about what I was doing. He was unconscious. What kind of person would I be if I ogled him at a time like this? But I couldn't shake the feeling that a bond was forming between us, one that wouldn’t be easily broken. It felt strange to think that, but there it was.

We were strangers…yet not.

Once his clothing was removed and tossed into the trash, I assessed his injuries closely. Since his leg lay at an odd angle, it was obviously broken, and numerous cuts and bruises marred his otherwise flawless green skin.

He wore some kind of armor on his shoulder, a golden, scaled thing that extended to his chest and partway down his arm. When I tried to pry it off, it appeared fused to his body, so I left it alone. It reminded me of some sort of cyborg thing from a sci-fi movie. Strange, a bit terrifying, yet equally intriguing.

This man fascinated me like no other.

In the shed attached to the small cape cod house, I grabbed a sturdy yet thin strip of wood and straightened his leg. I cringed when he groaned, but he remained unconscious. I used a long strand of cloth to wrap around his leg and the stick, splinting his leg as best I could. Hopefully, the bones were now aligned properly, because resetting them more than I had was beyond my skill.

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