Instinct

ANNABELLE

I glanced at Blake and headed for the door, swinging it open to find a man dressed in a large navy-blue coat and black boots with his back to me. He stomped his feet, shaking off the snow.

“Blake, what took you so long? I thought you were going to let an old man freeze out here,” he said, turning as he heard the door open.

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw me, a smile growing across his face. Clearly, I wasn’t who he was expecting.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the man said, stepping inside. “Blake, wherever did you manage to meet such a lovely, young woman out here?” He stuck out a hand. “I’m Killian.”

“Annabelle,” I replied as we shook.

“Killian! I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Blake said, his face lighting up.

Killian stepped around me, sliding off his coat and approaching the bed.

“Blake, what on earth happened to you?” Killian asked, his eyes wide as he took in Blake’s elevated ankle.

“The usual,” Blake replied with a shrug.

“This is why I keep telling you to get a phone. You could have called me to check it out,” Killian said, his tone serious for a moment. “These things can turn deadly fast. There’s no shame in getting help when you need it.”

“I know,” Blake replied, letting out a tired sigh. “But I don’t really want to be connected to the world right now…because you know…”

I shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Killian sighed and lowered his head for a moment before turning to me with a grateful smile.

“Thank you for taking care of him.”

“I tried my best,” I admitted with a nervous laugh.

“She’s being modest,” Blake chimed in. “I’d be an ice cube right now if she hadn’t found me out there.”

I blushed, looking down at my feet. Killian walked over to the bed, looking at Blake’s ankle.

“Let me see the rest,” Killian demanded, helping Blake lift the leg of his pants. He frowned at the bandages. “Oh, Blake,” he sighed, turning to me. “Did you keep the wound clean?”

“Yes. I don’t know much about first aid though. I think he might need stitches,” I explained, glancing at Blake.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take a look at it,” Killian reassured me.

He must have noticed my uncertainty because he added, “He’s in good hands. I’m a doctor. I need to get my equipment though. I’ll be back in a few,” Killian said, sliding on his coat and heading out the door. “Go ahead and eat. That way you can have something for the pain when I get back.”

I brought Blake a bowl of soup, bringing a chair over to sit beside him. The room settled into a tense silence as we ate.

“Killian seems nice,” I said at last.

“He really is,” Blake replied.

He winced and adjusted his position.

“You should lie down,” I insisted, taking his empty bowl and placing my hand on his shoulder.

He glanced down, a small smile on his face as he put his hand over mine and squeezed.

“I’m not hurt up here,” he protested, making my cheeks warm at his touch.

“It doesn’t matter. You should rest,” I said just as the door swung open.

“It’s freezing out there,” Killian grumbled, closing the door behind him and heading over to Blake with his medical bag.

“Here, sir,” I said, offering my chair. “Take my seat. I’ll get some more firewood.”

“Stay for a minute. I may need an extra pair of hands. And please, call me Killian. I’m only sixty-two,” he said with a chuckle.

“He doesn’t look his age, does he?” Blake asked, giving me a knowing look.

I nodded in agreement.

“He doesn’t act it either,” Blake said in a stage-whisper.

“Hush you,” Killian said in a playful tone as he pulled on gloves and carefully removed the bandages to inspect the wound. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.”

Blake hissed in pain a few times, but thankfully, the wound didn’t start bleeding again.

“You did a great job, Annabelle. There’s no infection,” Killian said, giving me an approving smile.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

“So, what’s next?” Blake asked.

“Well, here’s the bad news. At least, it’s bad for you,” Killian replied. “You need stitches to help the wound heal faster and keep it from getting any infections.”

“Killian, you know I hate hospitals,” Blake said, his voice filled with dread. “And needles.”

“I know. Luckily, I can do the stitches, so you won’t have to go to the hospital,” Killian reassured him. “But you might have to act tough in front of the lady.”

I snickered as Blake groaned.

“Fine. So, when are we getting this stitch party started?” he asked, his sigh betraying his reluctance.

“No time like the present,” Killian responded with a bright smile.

I hid my grin as he shot me a sly wink. Killian was enjoying teasing Blake.

“Fantastic,” Blake grumbled.

“Annabelle, could you assist me?” Killian asked, turning to me.

I moved to stand beside him. “Of course. What do you need me to do?”

“Just hand me what I ask for,” he instructed, pulling the table closer and arranging the necessary items.

“So, I’m just handing you what you need, right?”

Killian nodded, giving me a confused look.

“I, uh, also have a thing about needles,” I admitted.

Killian laughed.

“Aren’t you two just made for each other,” Killian said, his smile warm and encouraging. “I won’t make you stitch him up, I promise. But when we’re done, I’ll have you do the bandages. You did a great job last time.”

He removed his coat, revealing a gray cotton sweater, and rolled up his sleeves.

“Thank you,” I said, a sense of pride swelling within me.

“Let’s get started,” Killian said, his tone shifting to a more serious one. “Here, Blake. Take this for the pain.”

He gave Blake a couple of pills, watching to make sure he took them while he finished preparing.

“Okay,” he said, taking a seat. “Prep pad, please, Annabelle.”

I watched, occasionally turning away when the sight of blood made my stomach churn. Killian, however, was unfazed. His years of experience were evident in his calm demeanor. When he finished stitching Blake up, he stepped aside to give me room to bandage the wound.

“That was quick, wasn’t it?” he asked, washing his hands.

“Quicker than I expected,” I admitted.

“He’s asleep,” Killian observed, looking at Blake.

“He’s probably worn-out,” I whispered, watching Blake’s chest rise and fall in peaceful slumber. “It hasn’t been an easy few days.”

“I suppose not,” Killian agreed. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

I settled into a chair close to the fire, stretching my hands toward its warmth. Behind me, Killian pulled out a small kettle, filling it with water and bringing it over.

“So, Annabelle, how did you meet Blake?” Killian asked, hanging the small pot over the fire before taking the other chair.

“I was rock climbing when the storm hit. I couldn’t make it down safely, so I sought shelter. I was walking through the woods when I heard someone calling for help and found Blake,” I recounted. “I’m really glad I did. He might not have made it if I hadn’t,” I added, glancing at the bed.

“That’s a story to tell your future kids,” Killian joked. He laughed at my reaction. “I’m kidding, but your face was priceless.”

“I thought you were nice, Killian,” I accused playfully, making him laugh even harder. I wrapped my arms around myself. “How did you two meet? You seem close. And why does Blake live here? I don’t know him well, but this doesn’t seem like his kind of place.”

“Wow, so many questions,” Killian teased, his easy-going nature making me smile. “I can answer some of them, but others are Blake’s to answer. Let’s see, where to begin.”

He tapped his chin dramatically.

“Is this going to be a long story?” I asked, playing along.

“A very, very long story,” he replied sagely. “It all started, not so long ago…”