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Forgotten (The Lost Children Trilogy Book 1) Page 3
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I groaned. I had fainted.
“Do you remember now?” Di asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Now tell me, when did you last drink something?”
I propped myself up on my elbows, wincing. “Um, this morning. I had a cup of coffee.”
Di’s frown deepened. “A cup of coffee? That’s it?”
I nodded.
Her eyes widened. “You mean you walked all that way today without one drink?”
“Um, yeah.” My water had run out last night, and while dehydration was nothing new for me, I’d certainly never fainted before.
“We need to get her some water.” Di reached down and pinched the skin on the back of my hand. It left a tent of skin poking up. “She’s incredibly dehydrated. My guess is her blood pressure is low. It’s probably why she fainted.”
Val wrung her apron between her hands. “Let’s get her to the kitchen.”
“Flint?” Di looked at someone behind Val. “Will you carry her?”
“I don’t need to be carried…” My words died when the strange man appeared again. He hovered above me, just like the others. My gaze widened as I stared up into his deep set, dark eyes. They were so dark they were almost black, but flecks of brown speckled the irises. I scanned the rest of his face. Tanned skin, a smooth brow, firm lips and a straight, if long nose. Chestnut colored hair streaked with gold covered his head.
He was beautiful.
“Do you mind if I pick you up?” he asked.
The deep tone of his voice reverberated through me. It was him. The one I heard when I thought I was dreaming. His voice raised goosebumps along my arms.
“Um…no…I mean, sure.”
He reached down and cupped his arms under my back and knees. My eyes widened. I knew who he was. Di had called him Flint. Flint was the man from the Suburban. The one in the front seat who’d refused to acknowledge me.
He lifted me without the slightest hitch and walked toward the kitchen. I was acutely aware of every inch of him, the hard feel of his arms, the steady thud of his heart, the way his fingers curled gently yet firmly around my legs. His scent fluttered to me as he walked liquidly across the floorboards. Val walked ahead, nervously chatting. I barely heard her since I was so consumed with Flint. Leaning closer, I subtlety inhaled his scent. Spice, wood, and something else. I inched closer.
Tangerines.
My body jumped to life, like someone ran a jolt of electricity through it. I studied him wide-eyed, but he continued walking, apparently oblivious to my erratic reaction.
I searched his face, looking for something, anything, that would trigger a memory. Do I know him? No, that wasn’t possible. He’d never mentioned us meeting before.
“She can have a seat here,” Val said as Flint strode into the kitchen.
He walked to a kitchen chair. I already dreaded when he’d set me down. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want him to let go. An emotion I’d never experienced before was growing steadily in me with each step he took. His warm arms and steady breathing only made it increase. It wasn’t until he leaned down to set me on the chair that I finally understood what it was.
I’m safe. Flint makes me feel safe.
Still refusing to meet my eyes, Flint let go. An emptiness consumed me.
“Thank you,” I managed.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he walked to the opposite wall and leaned against it, looking anywhere but at me. It was like in the Suburban. Once again, he ignored me.
My stomach plummeted. The high that coursed through me vanished like a fire being doused with water. Why was he ignoring me? His behavior shouldn’t hurt but it did.
Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.
Everyone else crowded in the kitchen. Val retrieved a glass from a walnut cabinet and hurriedly filled it. I forced myself to ignore Flint and drink. I emptied the glass in mere seconds, my gulps audible.
“Thank you.” I wiped my mouth.
Di placed her hands on her hips. “She needs more than that.”
Val grabbed the empty glass. “I’ll get another.”
Three glasses later, I finally felt sated. Just as I was about to thank Val again, Pete walked in.
“Well, I’ll be.” Pete put his hands on his hips and eyed everyone in the kitchen. Di stood beside me while the twins, Mica and Jacinda hovered near the counter. Flint still stood by the opposite wall. It didn’t escape my notice that Flint’s location was the one place in the kitchen that put the most distance between us.
When Pete’s gaze met mine, he grinned. “Lena, what the heck are you doin’ here? Did you decide to take me up on my offer?”
I smiled. “Not exactly.”
Val gave Pete a scolding look. “No, dear. She forgot her backpack in your truck. She walked almost all the way here to get it.”
Pete’s expression fell. “You did?”
My eyes darted toward Flint again. The ceiling must be fascinating since he now stared at that. “Yeah, I walked for a few hours, but then this group came along and picked me up.”
Pete sighed. “Darn, that’s a long walk.”
Before I could reply, Di interrupted. “Lena, when did you last eat?”
Flint’s gaze shifted to me. Once again, that unreadable expression covered his face.
“Lena?” Di prompted.
“Um, this morning. I had two sandwiches.”
“And before that?” Di asked.
“When did I eat before that?”
She nodded.
I cocked my head, trying to recall. Yesterday I’d been riding with a trucker from Nebraska. Before that, I’d spent five days wandering around the plains since the instinct had led me astray for a while. During that time, I’d eaten at a diner with a nice woman named Cindy. I perked up. That’s when I’d last eaten.
“Maybe two or three days ago.”
Di’s eyes widened. “Two or three days ago? You’ve barely eaten anything for the last three days?”
“That’s right.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, no wonder you fainted and are so skinny. You’re not only dehydrated, but you were probably ketotic prior to this morning.”
“Ketotic?”
Di sighed. “Glucose is the sole source of energy for your brain, so in the absence of glucose in your diet, your body is forced to find an alternate food source. It converts fat cells into ketones–”
“Huh?” I interrupted.
“Never mind,” Di sighed. “You should eat something.”
“That’s something we can take care of!” Val bustled to a large, six-burner stove and pulled on a pair of hot-mitts that were sitting on the stone countertop. “Have the rest of you eaten supper yet?”
One by one, everyone shook their heads.
“In that case, you’re all going to eat. I have plenty of leftovers from the supper meal. Now, go on out to the dining room. Pete will show you the way. Go on now, out you go!” She made a swishing movement with her hands before opening the oven. More heavenly scents emerged from it.
“Come on, Lena, let’s go.” Di pulled out my chair.
I concentrated on standing since I still felt embarrassingly weak. It was probably all the walking at high altitude this afternoon. Placing my palms on the table’s smooth surface, I tried to cover up how shaky I felt.
“Are you okay?” Di’s long, tanned fingers reached out.
I pulled away. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Okay, but take it easy.”
Despite my protesting muscles, I stood. That was a mistake. It felt like the entire floor moved beneath me. The next thing I knew, hands were on me. Very large hands. They were warm and rough and felt oddly pleasant.
Flint stared down at me as he gripped my upper arms. He’d moved so fast I hadn’t seen him coming. I had the ridiculous urge to stare at him but managed to avert my gaze to his nose.
“Thank you.”
He didn’t reply.
“Do you need Flint to carry you again?�
�� Di asked.
Her question snapped me back to reality. Even though I’d loved the feel of Flint’s arms around me, it was embarrassing that he’d carried me. Normally, I was quite capable of taking care of myself.
“No, I’m fine,” I replied.
The instant I said that, Flint let go. My entire body screamed in protest, but then a sudden sense of self-consciousness filled me. I looked down and saw myself the way he must be seeing me.
Greasy crimson curls, pale grimy skin, and an undernourished almost skeletal frame. Not to mention, my clothes were too big and horribly dirty. I was a mess and I smelled. No wonder he’d let go.
My cheeks burned.
“Come on, let’s go,” Di said. “Clear the way.”
THE ROOM WE entered was huge. I guessed it wasn’t really a dining room, though. It’d probably once been a large living area or even a ballroom.
The vaulted roof had large wooden support beams. A huge chandelier made of antlers hung from the ceiling. The room was decorated in traditional western theme. Framed pictures of horses, Native Americans, and mountain landscapes hung on the walls. Various types of ranch equipment decoratively garnished the shelves and corners. Dozens of tables and chairs filled the room. Some tables could only sit two or four, others sat twelve to fourteen.
I knew the tables were for the guests. In addition to running cattle, Pete had told me they ran a guest ranch. Every night the guests ate in their home.
It felt like a lightbulb flipped on.
I knew why Val had such large appliances in the kitchen and why she’d had enough leftovers to feed all of us. Pete said their ranch could accommodate thirty guests. Val probably did all the cooking.
“Come on, have a seat over here.” Di steered me toward the table Pete stopped at. It was one of the larger ones. She plopped me down on a middle seat and walked around to the opposite end. Jacinda pulled out the chair beside me. Mica took the chair on my other side.
“I’ll go find your bag.” Pete hooked a thumb on his jeans. His belt buckle gleamed in the light. “I’m real sorry about that, Lena.”
“No big deal. Thanks, Pete.”
He walked back to the kitchen.
“So you really haven’t eaten much for three days?” Mica asked.
“Yeah. Two, three days, something like that.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “I’ve never gone a day without eating, except for that first day. That day–”
“So, Lena!” Jacinda interrupted. She said it so loudly I jumped. An overly bright smile covered her face. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you do when you’re not hitchhiking?”
Great. More personal questions. Just what I need.
“Um, nothing really,” I replied.
“But before you started traveling, you must have done something,” she persisted, still smiling. The twins pulled out the chairs directly opposite to me. Di still sat near the end.
One of the twins met my gaze. I switched my vision. From his cloud’s yellow color, I knew it was Jasper. Snapping my sight back to normal, I let my eyes wander toward the kitchen, but my gaze didn’t get far, since a few chairs down was him. At some point in the past few seconds, Flint had sat at the very end of the table, beside Di.
I reached up to straighten my hair. My fingers threaded through thick curls but got stuck in a snarl. I tried to gracefully extract them but ended up pulling out a few strands. If anything, I made my hair messier.
Not that it mattered.
Once again, Flint ignored me. He and Di had their heads dipped toward one another as they whispered. A brief surge of envy pummeled me. It was not an emotion I was used to feeling.
“Lena?” Jacinda asked.
“Oh, um, not really,” I finally replied to her question about my personal interests.
Jasper eyed my left, inner wrist and cocked an eyebrow. “Surely, you’ve got some hobby? Tattoos maybe?”
I shoved my hand under the table. “No. I’m not into tattoos.”
“Wasn’t that one on your wrist?” Jet eyed his brother and Jacinda.
“Oh, well…” The tattoo on my wrist was another thing I couldn’t explain. It was a symbol. A circle divided into four quarters. I hadn’t noticed it until the second day after I woke up.
“It’s nothing,” I finally said. “Just a pen mark.”
Jacinda frowned. A myriad of expressions crossed the twins’ features – a tilt of a smile, the slight nod of a head, a quirked eyebrow. A second later, it stopped.
“Whatever you say.” Jasper smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Yeah,” Jet smirked. “Whatever you say.”
Thankfully, before anyone could ask anything else, Mica approached the table with glasses and a pitcher of water. I hadn’t noticed she’d left. She practically slammed the drinks down. “Drink up, everyone,” she said cheerfully.
I didn’t need the encouragement. I gulped down another full glass. It hit my empty stomach like a water balloon splatting on a sidewalk. I filled it again and avoided the urge to study Flint and Di over the rim of the glass. They were still whispering.
“So, Lena.” Mica angled her chair my way. Her brown hair brushed along her shoulders with the movement. I cringed inwardly, wondering what she’d ask. “Is your bag all you’re traveling with?”
I made a noncommittal noise and took another drink.
Mica frowned. “That’s all you have?”
“Yep.”
I felt more eyes at the table assess me. Jacinda frowned, the expression causing tiny wrinkles to mar her otherwise smooth forehead.
“How many clothes do you own?” Jacinda asked.
“Um, a few shirts and two pairs of pants.”
“That’s it?” Jasper said.
“That’s it.”
Jet leaned back, frowning. A dark curl fell on his forehead. He pushed it back.
Thankfully, before the Inquisition got into full swing, Val appeared. “Here you go, m’dear.”
She placed a steaming plate of food in front of me. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, an assortment of roasted veggies and a large, soft roll. A hefty portion of gravy covered the meat and potatoes. The smell was unbelievably appetizing.
Val pulled plates off the tray she carried and served everyone else, but I couldn’t wait for the entire table to get their meals. My focus became entirely on the food. I picked up my fork and took a big bite. Rich gravy and mashed potatoes coated my tongue.
It was quite possibly the best moment of my life.
The next ten minutes were a blur. I had no idea what the group talked about, maybe the food, or the weather, or whatever people normally spoke about at dinner. As for me, all I saw was my fork and the food in front of me. I’d never tasted anything so good, or so satisfying, and it disappeared much too fast.
“Hungry?” a voice asked.
I snapped my head up.
Jet watched me, a smirk on his face.
My cheeks flamed. I’d probably just resembled a front-end loader hard at work shoveling.
“Yeah,” I replied sheepishly. I peeked at him again, but Flint was still oblivious. I tried not to stare, but he was so gorgeous, it was hard not to. Once again, I wondered at my strange reaction to him. Even though he ignored me and sat at the end of the table, I still felt safe. Bizarre.
Jacinda eyed my empty plate. “You really have been starving, haven’t you?”
“Obviously,” Mica snorted. “Look at her.”
I shrunk inwards, pulling my thin arms and lean legs into a pretzel. “Well, that’s what happens when you’re homeless.”
A few pieces of cutlery fell from people’s grasps. The clatter when it hit the table echoed in the room.
“But how can you not have any money for hotel rooms?” Mica asked.
“Yeah,” Jet piped in. “Surely, you have money?” He waggled his eyebrows.
The questions started up again, yet this time focused on finances. Why in the world would they ask me about money? Did I look like someone
with rolls of hundreds in my pocket?
Sinking into my seat, I wished I could disappear underneath it. Suddenly, I felt very tired. The entire day had been completely exhausting, and this group wasn’t helping.
“Enough.” Flint stared at everyone through hard, dark eyes.
For whatever reason, the mood around the table abruptly changed. Jacinda smiled brightly and told me she loved my top, but since it was full of tattered holes I wondered if I heard her right. Jasper offered me the rest of his potatoes, Jet continued to smirk, and Mica spooned her zucchini onto my plate before I could protest.
“I don’t like zucchini.” She set her plate down.
I shook my head and finished the rest of her unwanted vegetables. However, I declined Jasper’s continual offers to give me his food. As hungry as I was, I wasn’t that pathetic.
Throughout it all, Flint watched everyone. His hard, dark gaze was unsettling and comforting at the same time. It was entirely bizarre. When the conversation switched to tomorrow’s forecast, he rose and slipped into the kitchen. I watched him go, my eyes traveling up his strong legs and wide shoulders.
“You done?” Val smiled down at me. She held out a hand, her hazel eyes sparkling. A light sheen covered her forehead.
“Yes, thank you.” I forced my gaze to stop following Flint.
Val moved around the table, collecting everyone’s dishes.
Just as she finished, Pete walked into the dining hall with my bag and Flint in tow. I stood so abruptly my chair scraped loudly against the floor. I raced to Pete, grabbed my pack before he could say anything and knelt down. I opened the zippered front pocket.
A relieved sigh escaped me.
It was still there.
My fingers curled around the smooth metal. I carefully extracted the white gold chain bracelet. It glinted in the light. My eyes misted over when I grasped the small charm dangling from the chain. It was in the shape of a heart with an inscription reading, Love You Forever, etched into its side. It was the only piece of jewelry I’d been wearing when I woke in Rapid City.
The only proof that someone, somewhere, cared for me.
An emotion, so deep it was silly, coursed through me. In reality, this was simply a piece of metal. Useless. Unable to serve me in any way. But to me, it was so much more than that. Someone in this world knew me and was possibly looking for me. This proved that I wasn’t completely alone.