Mary Sullivan - Cody's Come Home

“If I turn my back, can you get out of your wet underwear on your own?”

“I’ll try.”

Facing away from her and studying the rugged splendor of the forest around him, he listened to her struggle. “How are you doing?”

“I can’t— Damn. I can’t do this.”

“I’m going to help you. Okay?”

She didn’t answer.

“Okay, Aiyana?”

“Let’s just leave them on me.”

“No. I don’t know how long it’s going to take us to walk out. We need you warm and dry.”

She didn’t respond, but after a while said, “Cody, let me do this my way. I’m more comfortable leaving them on.”

“But,” he started before realizing he was being overbearing. “You’re right. Of course. I’m going to dry you off though before we get you into clean clothes. Is that okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

He took his mom’s dry sweater and ran it briskly over all of her, deadening his senses, adopting as much of a clinical attitude as he could. At the moment, he needed to be less of a man and more of a friend.

Goose bumps crawled across her skin.

Gingerly, he pulled an undershirt over her head and threaded her arm through the sleeves. She didn’t utter so much as a peep, even though her lips thinned and turned white at the edges.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Her smile wobbled.

His mother had given him a pair of large cotton underpants and he pulled them up Aiyana’s legs, smoothing them over her hips beneath the shirt.

The waist was too wide. “These were made for a larger seventy-year-old woman.”

Aiyana huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “They’re dry. That’s all that matters.” She shivered.

“Yeah.” He dressed her in a flannel shirt and a heavy sweater, but had to go slowly. It was taking a while.

“Sorry it’s all too big,” he said. “It’s my mom’s. I figured Pearl’s clothing wouldn’t fit you.”

“You’re right. Pearl’s clothes wouldn’t have fit me. She’s so tiny. I tower over her.”

Tower? Not.

“It doesn’t matter, Cody. I’m just happy to be warm.”

“Good. You and my mom don’t exactly have the same style. Mom’s an old hippie at heart.”

“I love your mother’s style. She’s so uniquely her.”

He detected something in her tone. Envy, maybe? Why on earth would a woman as striking and handsome as Aiyana envy another woman?

Her teeth were chattering again. “I got chilled to the bone last night. I can’t seem to warm up.”

“Especially not when your skin is bare. I’ll hurry.”

He grabbed a pair of long johns and eased them onto her feet and legs. She winced when he accidentally touched her ankle.

“I’m trying to be gentle,” he said as he snugged them up over her hips.

“This is ridiculous,” she burst out, smacking her palm on the rock. “I feel like a child with you dressing me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But we need to do this, while disturbing your injuries as little as possible.”

“I get it, Cody. I’m just frustrated by this whole situation.”

“Fortunately, Mom’s jeans will be loose on you. They’ll go on right over your ankle.”

They did.

Aiyana grasped the loose fabric around her trim waist. “How am I going to keep them up?”

He took her blouse and twisted it. “I’ll thread this through the belt loops and tie it snugly.”

She smiled. “That’ll work.” It worried him that she was still shivering.

“We need to get you warmed up. Even these clothes aren’t doing it.”

He unbuttoned his jacket and unzipped his sweater then lifted her onto his lap, snugging her against his chest. Taking his mom’s bulky winter jacket, he wrapped it across her back and held it in place with one hand while with his other he abraded her limbs wherever she wasn’t hurt.

“How can you still have so much body heat when it’s cold and rainy?” She leaned into him as though she wanted to burrow inside his body.

She felt good.

“I built up a real sweat when I was looking for you.”

“I need your warmth.”

I need yours, too.

Whoa. Where had that thought come from, that he needed anything from her?

Warmth? From Aiyana, who was a virtual stranger these days? And the warmth he meant was different from her version. He needed absolution.

He rubbed her back briskly and felt her start to relax, to melt into him. He’d never felt anything as sweet as the trust she had in him.

For the briefest nanosecond, he rested his chin on her head and bit back a sigh. The urge to give in, to take what he needed from this erstwhile friend, sent a shock wave through him.

He denied himself, lifting his head away, because, really, how could he possibly think he deserved it? Or her.

“Cody...”

Alerted by her suddenly serious tone, he tensed, knowing what was coming, the sympathy that killed him every time. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

He set her away from him, the intimate moment broken.

“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me. I appreciate all of this.”

The air whooshed out of him. She hadn’t mentioned Ben. Thank God.

“Except for your trapped foot, you were holding it together.” He grinned, but it felt fake again, like everything in his life these days. Except for the grief. That was real. “Besides, if it hadn’t been me who found you, it would’ve been someone else.”

“Don’t do that,” she said sharply.

He startled. “Do what?”

“Put down what you’re doing here.” Her tone was harsh. The woman had claws.

He had to put himself down. She didn’t know his history, all of the things he’d done. Taking her right hand in his, he helped her sit up.

She still looked stern and ordered, “Just say ‘thank you, Aiyana.’”

He smiled, impressed by how bravely she was dealing with this adversity. She had to be in agony from her injuries.

“Thank you, Aiyana,” he said gently, and her pique eased. She smiled.

He used her damp sweater to wipe his dirty feet.

He packed everything back into the knapsack, putting her wet clothes into plastic bags.

Last, he put on his socks and shoes.

“We need to move on.”

Cody glanced at her face, alerted by a new determination in her voice.

He picked up her backpack. “Do you think your shoulder can bear this?”

“Yes.”

Carefully, he threaded her arms through the straps and settled it onto her shoulders.

“Why is it so light?” She watched him over her shoulder with a puzzled frown.

“All of your clothes and camera are in my pack. There isn’t anything left in yours. It’s empty.”

He put his knapsack on across his front and turned so she could climb onto his back. Once she was settled he took the two tarps and crammed them into a plastic shopping bag. “Can you take this with your good hand?”

“Yes.”

He hoped she was telling the truth. He wondered if she would say yes to everything he asked just to prove she could handle it.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He started off quickly but soon realized he would have to pace himself on the rough, slippery terrain. The last thing they needed was for him to get injured, too.

Aiyana felt unnatural on his back. “Don’t hold yourself so stiffly, Ai.”

Ai. He’d forgotten that old nickname. He shouldn’t use it. It felt too intimate.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” she said.

“You aren’t. You’re a friend in need.” When she still didn’t relax, he told her the truth. “Holding yourself stiffly makes it harder for me.”

She relaxed against him and he felt her chest against his back.

“Better?” she asked.