Dark Moon Falls

Chapter Eight - Logan

She watched as he turned and walked away, but before he disappeared, she caught a quick glimpse of the way his jeans cupped his firm ass. She settled back in her pillows, Dax laying his head on her legs again. What if I don't want to go with the sheriff? She remembered Dara saying something about Logan having been in the Pack Hunters at one time. Wouldn't I be just as safe here as with the sheriff? Absentmindedly, she scratched at the dog's ear as she pondered her options. Did she even have the right to ask that of the man? Obviously, he preferred being alone, but why? Why would someone choose to live so far away from other people?

A couple of minutes later, Logan returned with a glass of water, and Madison tried not to stare at the way his shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders as he handed her the glass. “Thank you," she said, taking the glass. She took a small sip, the water cool on her throat as she swallowed, refreshing. She nodded when she finished, saying thank you again. She took a deep breath, suddenly not feeling like being cooped up in the bed any longer. “Do you think I could sit in the kitchen with you while you cooked? I'm feeling a little stiff. I think the movement may help loosen my muscles some."

He studied her a moment, and at first, she thought he would refuse her request, but then he simply nodded. “Sure," he said as he moved to help her off the bed and to the kitchen.

A talkative fellow, aren't you? “Thanks," she said as she handed him back the glass. Dax hopped off the bed as Logan reached out to help Madison slide to the edge, swinging her legs around to hang off the side. She glanced down, noticing her bare legs. Only then did she realize she was only wearing a T-shirt. One of his, more than likely. Her face blushed as her eyes widened. “How…? O mean, who…?"

“Dara," he said. “She thought you'd be more comfortable this way. Your shirt was ruined, but I'm washing your jeans. I can grab you a pair of pajama pants if you want, but I'd recommend against it. The waistband might hit your stitches." I promise the shirt's long enough to cover you."

She swallowed the thought of him undressing her. “No, this is fine. Thank you."

He nodded and then leaned down as he took one of her arms and draped it over his broad shoulders, lifting her slowly to her feet. Pain stabbed at her as she kept the towel with the poultice pressed to her wounds, her skin stretching with the movement, pulling at the gashes. She hissed through clenched teeth, but didn't stop. She needed to move, needed to know she could in case who ever hunted her came looking for her.

“Take your time," Logan urged her, one arm around her waist as his other hand held onto hers over his shoulders. “Don't rush it. Give your body time to adjust to the movement."

His voice was calm, steady, and low, keeping her from screaming with the agony of each slight movement. She focused on what he said, clutching to him as he eased them both into a standing position, giving her the time he told her to take. Dax, tail wagging, stood there, watching her with his intense dark eyes, his head c****d to the side.

Madison grimaced, but eventually she stood straight. Well, almost straight. Logan on the other hand remained bent over slightly as he probably stood a good four or five inches taller than her. She blew out a deep breath as she gave a slight chuckle. “Well, that wasn't so bad," she said, proud of her accomplishment.

“Yeah, now the fun part," he said. “You need to walk to the front of the cabin."

Madison groaned, clenching her eyes shut. “Maybe I should rethink this."

“You can do it," he assured her. “Just take your time. There's no rush."

Each step was a screaming agony, but she gritted her teeth and made each one. Slow and arduous, but they made it, and soon she slid into a tall chair along a high top table. More than ready to be off her feet again.

“We'll need to change that bandage," he said once he was satisfied she was all right. “We can remove the poultice and just wrap the wounds."

Madison nodded, sucking in a breath through her nose and out through her slightly parted lips in an attempt to ease the pain that told her she should have remained in bed. “In a bit," she wheezed. “I just need to sit a minute."

Logan nodded as he stepped toward the cabinets. “Take your time. I'll start some dinner."

With one arm pressing on the table to focus her pain, Madison stared at the floor, her side and stomach throbbing. Dax padded over to where she sat and wrapped himself in a ball at her feet, his head over his front paws as he studied her with blinking dark orbs. She gave him a weak smile, his constant presence a comfort.

Once the pain subsided enough that she could settle back in the chair without feeling like she would pass out, she glanced over to where Logan shuffled around at the stove. “I really do appreciate this," she said. “Not many people would go to all this trouble for a stranger."

He moved to the fridge and pulled out some meat—steaks, Madison guessed—and moved back to the stove. “Most people don't know how to handle a crisis."

She smiled. “Well, I'm lucky you do. What's for dinner?"

“Steak and potatoes," he replied. He turned to face her, his brows pinched in a question. “Is that all right? You're not on some weird diet, are you?"

She laughed softly as she shook her head. “Steak sounds great."

She was about to ask another question when Dax lifted his head, turning his muzzle to the back door, and growled. A knock followed.