Page 2 of Wed By the Lumberjack

“Dixie?”

It’s no use.

A feeling of unease settles over me as I turn the engine over and Goldie roars to life. She’s louder than Pearl and doesn’t drive as smoothly, but what matters is that we have a safe drive down to the emergency room.

I silently curse as I ease onto the winding main road. Over the cliffside, I can see the dark inky blot of the lake below. It’ll take me nearly two hours to get there. Two hours I hope don’t impede Dixie’s recovery because I need her to remember me. To know that she’s always safe with me. And I need her to remember who the hell this beast is because I’m the best hunter around.

***

Six hours later the scent of antiseptic cleaners and the bright fluorescent lights of the emergency room are beginning to drive me insane. That, and not knowing what’s going on with Dixie.

Cole had called asking for an update I didn’t have. He said they’d taken Dixie’s things out of her truck to avoid the smoke ruining them. I asked him to carry them to my cabin because as far as I’m concerned, Dixie’s leaving the hospital with me until we can figure things out.

I’m about to go to the vending machine for my third cup of weak coffee when the doctor approaches me. Her white lab coat reads Dr. Brooks.

“Mr. Forester?” She says. “We have some good news. Ms. Fox is stable and resting.”

I let out a sigh of relief, the knots in my stomach loosening, but not untying.

“All of her tests came back fine?”

She hesitates. “What’s your relation to Ms. Fox?”

I’m about to say that I’m an old friend, but then another movie tidbit pops into my brain.

“Family only!” Isn’t that what the receptionists and nurses always said when a friend tried to visit someone who was freshly admitted?

“Why?”

“Because we can only share medical details with her close family members. The same goes for visits. Sorry.”

I don’t think, blink, or breathe before I blurt, “I’m her husband.”

Dr. Brooks looks doubtfully up at me. It’s a small town, and the noisy inhabitants would’ve heard about a wedding even up in the mountains.

Before she can look at my fingers for a ring, I shove my hands into my jeans pockets.

“Her husband?” She asks tentatively.

I nod. What? Is she going to ask to see my marriage certificate right now?

The doctor blinks and then chews her lip. I can tell she doesn’t really believe me, but she doesn’t distrust me either. Given the tight-knit community of the town, Dr. Brooks has seen me around at least a half dozen times in passing.

“Well, if you’re her husband that means you’re responsible for her and she’ll need a lot of care. She’s very confused right now with some memory loss from hitting her head on the steering wheel. Her injuries could’ve been a lot worse, but her body was relaxed at the time of impact. We think she fell asleep behind the wheel.”

That meant she’d been driving for ages. Once again the questions of where did Dixie come from, and where was she going, remerge in my mind for the hundredth time.

I think of all her worldly possessions piled high in the back of her truck and it becomes obvious that she must’ve been moving, no– running.

That triggers another thought to zoom to the forefront of my brain. The beast. Who the hell was this beast? And what had they done to scare her into running away without a break to rest?

Was she in an abusive relationship? My stomach knots at the idea of Dixie with anyone, especially an asshole that didn’t deserve her.

What pains me the most though is the thought that Dixie was potentially being hurt. Again.

I still haven't forgiven myself for allowing that to happen to her.

“How long will her memory loss last?”

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