Her Beautiful Mind Read online
Page 26
When I reenter the shelter, I find Allison has replaced M&M. I’m shaking uncontrollably, and she frowns in disapproval. “Get into your sleeping bag, Ella. I don’t need another patient.”
My bag is situated beside Hudson. When I crawl in, I find a warm bladder at my feet. The heat feels amazing, and before I finish yawning, I’m asleep. The next time I open my eyes, I’m staring into familiar green ones. “You’re awake,” I exclaim, sitting up quickly.
“Come back, please. I need to look at you.”
Lying down, I situate myself on my side, facing him. I watch him watch me.
“Ariella,” he finally says after a long, drawn-out sigh. “I’m sorry. Everything Gia told you, everything you thought was happening, was a lie. All of it was a lie, and I’m so sorry.”
Touching my fingertip to his lips, I urge him to stop. “It wasn’t all your fault, but you need to rest. Shh, don’t talk.”
“Not talking, not telling you everything, not sharing, is what got us into this situation. I should have—” He swallows roughly. There’s a small bottle of water nearby, and I grab it, letting a small amount trickle into his mouth. “Thank you,” he croaks, swallowing again.
“How are you feeling?”
“Head hurts,” he finally admits. “Leg hurts. Feels like I got hit by a bus.” His slight chuckle turns into a groan of pain. “Do you think I could have some more pain medicine?”
The shelter is empty except for the two of us and Markham, who’s sleeping in a far corner. When I peek around the curtain, I find Travis, Allison, and Rosemary sitting at the wooden table.
“Hudson’s awake and asking for pain medicine. Can he have more?” I ask Allison. With a nod, she tells me there is some ibuprofen in a small cup next to him.
“I’m heating him some broth, too. It’ll be ready in a minute,” she continues.
I help Hudson sip the dissolved pills. When Allison enters, she checks his vitals. “You’re running a little fever and your blood pressure is low, but otherwise, you seem to be doing okay, considering the nasty fall you took yesterday. We’ve set your broken leg and cleaned the wounds on your head. You have a concussion, so please rest and not too much talking. Okay?” She finishes with a smile. “I’m Allison, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Allison. Thank you for taking good care of me.”
“You’re welcome, Hudson. See if you can get a little of this broth down, and then I want you to rest again. No Filter and Curly Dan are trying to contact the authorities with his emergency phone. We hope to get you out of here this afternoon. You’ll need your strength when they start moving you.”
Hudson manages to sip most of the broth. After he’s finished, Allison hands him a plastic bottle with a large letter “P” written on the side. “This is Travis’s ‘I’m-not-getting-out-of-the-tent-in-the-middle-of-the-night’ bottle.” She laughs. “I thought you might be getting uncomfortable and would like to relieve yourself.”
Allison laughs again when he stutters an embarrassed, “Thank you.”
“I’m a nurse. I’ve seen it all,” she reminds him before leaving.
Afterward, he falls asleep quickly. Travis brings fresh hot water bottles, and we place them around Hudson, making sure he’s warm enough. Then, we leave to let him get more rest. I join everyone else at the picnic table where Travis has cooked a meal. I’m starving, and the hot food tastes so good.
The storm has passed, and the sky is a fresh, clear blue. Clean, undisturbed snow covers the meadow in front of the shelter as well as every limb, branch, and twig. The bright sunshine transforms everything into a sparkling kaleidoscope of shimmering white. It’s breathtakingly beautiful, but like everything in nature, it can be deadly, too.
Recalling No Filter’s words from the night before reminds me of their trek to contact help. When I look around for them, I realize they’re still nowhere in sight. “How long have they been gone?” I ask.
“Almost six hours,” Travis answers me. “I expect we’ll hear something very—” He stops, listening intently. “Soon.” He grins.
The whining sound of motors gets louder and louder, and soon, four snowmobiles burst from the woods and come to a quick halt in front of the shelter. The driver of the first one jumps off, rushing to me, before picking me up in a bone-crushing hug.
“Dear God, Ari. I’ve been so worried about you,” exclaims my cousin. “And Hudson,” he continues with a rush. “Where is he? How is he?”
“He’s inside and is doing as well as can be expected.”
Liam takes off his helmet and looks around quickly. He surveys the curtain we’ve pieced together from tents and nods in appreciation. “Good job,” he tells me before ducking inside the sheltered area.
He’s kneeling beside Hudson when I enter. I hear only bits of their murmured conversation, but he tells him how sorry he is. Hudson makes some kind of joke about rocks not being his friend, and my cousin grimaces. Before I can ask what he means, Liam starts explaining what will happen in the next hour or so.
“There’s a medevac helicopter on its way. It’ll be tight, but they think they can land in the clearing. They’re going to take you to the hospital in Gainesville. An orthopedic specialist is on his way from Atlanta. He and the other doctors will examine you there. Your parents are on their way, too.”
“Ariella and the others?” Hudson asks.
“The snowmobiles are capable of holding four people. We’ll buddy up and get everyone off the mountain and back to Franklin.”
“No, no. I want her with me. We’ve been apart too long, and I need to talk to her. Please,” he begs. “Don’t leave me.”
“Easy, easy,” Liam tries to calm him. “My truck is in Franklin. I’ll take her with me to Neels Gap, get her fed and cleaned up, and then drive her to Gainesville. She’ll be there by the time the doctors get finished with you.”
“But—”
“He’s right,” I interrupt before he becomes more agitated. “There won’t be room for me in the helicopter, and I do need a shower and something to eat. We’ll get there as soon as we can. I promise. I’m not leaving you again. I’ll come.”
Our conversation is cut short by the whump, whump of a nearing helicopter. It lands in the clearing, throwing up a whirlwind of snow. Two medics emerge, running into the shelter with a stretcher and other medical equipment. Allison meets them, and they start examining Hudson.
The rest of us step outside and begin cleaning up and repacking our gear. In no time, they’ve strapped him to a stretcher, inserted an IV, and secured him in the helicopter. I’m barely able to kiss him goodbye and promise to see him soon before they lift off in another flurry of swirling snow. Behind me, I can hear my friends gathering everything and loading the snowmobiles, but I don’t join them. Instead, I stand knee-deep in the aftermath of the storm, watching the man I love fly away from me.
“I’m coming, love. I’m coming,” I whisper to the departing helicopter.
Chapter 35
The Journey Is the Destination
Date: Wednesday, March 26
Starting Location: Siler Bald Shelter
Destination: The Journey
Total Trip Miles: Forever
Contrary to what Liam told Hudson, it was actually the next day before I arrived at the hospital in Gainesville. After the helicopter left, we dismantled our tent curtain, rolled up and stored the plastic sheeting, and packed away all our gear. The search and rescue team that responded to Curly Dan’s emergency call were driving heavy-duty, multi-person vehicles. Each one was capable of holding up to four people. I rode behind Liam, with each couple settling in on the other three machines. With all our gear, it was a tight fit.
They’d cobbled together a route from Franklin using forest roads, trails, and open meadows. It took them to the AT cut-off trail below Siler Bald summit where they met and picked up Curly Dan and
No Filter. We took the same route back, and it was slow going. The deep snowfall hid all kinds of obstacles. No one wanted another injury, even if it were minor.
Although Liam offered to let everyone stay free of charge at Neels Gap until the snow melted and conditions improved, they decided to stay in Franklin. A quick warm-up was expected, and the three couples planned to continue their hike. We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, and then—amid hugs, a few tears, and promises to keep in touch—I climbed into Liam’s truck and left behind six people who were very special and very dear to me. Strangers once, they were now my best friends—all of us brought together by our journey on the Appalachian Trail.
It was dark when we finally arrived at Neels Gap. Emma had a hot meal waiting. I ate, showered, and collapsed on the bed in their guest room. Although worried about Hudson, exhaustion took me, and I slept soundly until the next morning.
We’re eating a quick breakfast the next morning when I realize Emma and Liam are staring at me. “What?” I ask.
“You cut your hair,” Emma says. “I can’t believe it. You actually cut your hair, and it’s curly.”
Running a hand through my short locks, I grin at her. “Yeah, did it in Franklin. I’ve worn a knit cap for so many days I’ve actually forgotten about it.”
“What did Hudson say?” she asks.
“He never really saw it. We were all so bundled up.”
Emma continues to search my face. “I like it,” she finally says. “You look different. Part of it is probably the hair, but I think you’ve lost weight, especially in your face. I wonder if you’d like to use some of my makeup, just a bit on the cheekbones and eyelashes,” she finishes tentatively.
I smile back at my cousin-in-law. “I’d like that. Thank you, Emma.”
Not only does Emma help me with my hair and makeup, but she insists I borrow several outfits to take with me to see Hudson. “You can’t wear your hiking clothes in the hospital,” she reminds me. She hugs me goodbye, wishes me good luck, and waves when Liam and I drive away.
Hudson’s parents arrived sometime during the night. When we ask at the desk, we learn they’ve moved him to a private, VIP suite. The nurse escorts us through to his rooms after she finds our names on the admittance list. Both his mom and dad hug me when we enter. “He’s been anxiously waiting to see you,” Patricia tells me, ushering me toward the bed.
“You came.” He smiles slightly, his lips still too swollen to move very much. He holds out a hand toward me, and I take it, moving closer to his bed. The bandages on his face have been changed, and he looks cleaner, but when I place my hand on his cheek, I can feel the heat radiating from him.
“You’re flushed. Do you have a fever?”
“Some,” he admits. “Allison and Markham did a great job, under the circumstances. The doctors were impressed, but still, the conditions weren’t the cleanest. I probably have some infection in some of the wounds. The antibiotics should take care of it soon.”
“And your leg?”
“Orthopedist said he couldn’t have done any better setting it.” He reaches down to thump the cast encasing his leg. “He wants to offer Allison a job,” he finishes with a cough. It’s followed by another. This one is deeper and rougher sounding.
“Hudson?”
Patricia steps up beside me and hands him a cup with a straw. “We’re keeping a close watch on his lungs,” she tells me. “No signs of pneumonia yet.”
Liam leaves after a short conversation with Hudson and another hug for me. I’m reminded to contact him if anything happens.
Hudson sleeps most of the day. He wakes from time to time, talks a little, manages to eat and drink small amounts, but returns to sleep quickly. Sometime during the night, his fever peaks. I wake to find him surrounded by a doctor and two nurses, who are bathing him with tepid water.
Patricia holds my hand as we watch, squeezing it from time to time when the deep bruising on his body is revealed. His whole left side is black and blue. It’s much worse than I expected. His private nurse insists we go back to sleep, promising to wake us if he worsens.
When I emerge from the guest suite the next morning after taking time to shower, fix my hair, and apply some of Emma’s makeup, I find him sitting up in bed looking and feeling much better. The dressing covering his left eye has been removed, and although it’s still swollen and very bruised, he’s able to see just fine, he assures me.
He frowns at me slightly as I walk closer. Then his eyes widen as he takes in the changes in my appearance. For a moment, I falter, the small child who needs to please others rearing its scared head. But then she’s gone, and the more confident woman who found herself on the trail emerges once more.
“You look amazing,” he tells me, his gaze roaming over every part of me. “I always loved your long hair, always thought you were beautiful, but now, you’re just … Now, you’re stunning.”
A pleased, silly giggle escapes me, my inner nerd rolling her eyes at the sound. I’m not used to compliments on my appearance. To hear him gush about my looks is both gratifying and slightly uncomfortable. “I donated it to Locks of Love,” I explain, running my fingers through my curls. “And when she cut all the weight off, it curled. It still feels a little strange, but I like it,” I continue.
Hudson smiles at me while I talk, but when I finish, there’s an awkward silence between us.
“Hudson—”
“Ariella—”
We both start and stop at the same time. When he waits for me, I continue. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in Italy with Gia?”
“I’m here because I love you, because you’re worth following. I’m here because I was a self-centered fool who thought he was protecting you, shielding you from the everyday messiness of business and life. I’m here because I forgot what a strong, amazing, capable woman you are.
“Ariella,” he reaches out to take my hand, drawing me closer to him until I’m standing next to the bed looking down into his troubled eyes. “You are the most important person in my life. Nothing else matters but you. The business, the money, the prestige? I’d give up everything, do anything, for you.”
“But Gia—”
“Lies, all lies. An elaborate scheme by a horrible, manipulative person. One I hope is going to prison for a very long time.”
Dragging a chair closer to his bed, I make myself comfortable. “Okay, start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
And so, we talk. Something we should have been doing all along. He leaves nothing out, patiently answering all the questions I ask, and making no excuses for his mistakes and misguided actions. He explains Gia’s Ponzi scheme. How she pretended to be his fiancée to lend respectability to her swindling racket. Apparently, she would entertain prospective clients in the condo from time to time. She left no detail undone. Even hanging men’s clothing in the master suite and stocking men’s toiletries in the bathroom. The old family pictures and the Photoshopped new ones displayed on the piano were the finishing touch.
He details the lies to her uncle Vincent and how there was, and is, no position waiting for him in Italy. Then, he explains his questioning by the FBI and his hopes for her arrest and prison time.
“So, you had no idea who was buying your condo?”
“No, it was all done through a realtor. The money was wired to my account, and I signed the papers. I left everything but my personal belongings and the art collection.”
“And you used the money to keep the business going?”
“Not all of it. I’d hit a slow period with investors. I used most of it to keep us afloat until more money came in. Then I paid myself back.”
“Hudson,” I hesitate, leaning toward him for emphasis, “Gia told me you are the sole owner of the business. She said you stripped your trust fund to buy out all the other investors and the business is yours. She warned me I would ruin
you financially if I protested or tried to interfere with the sale to Italia.”
“That fucking bitch,” he murmurs to himself before glancing at me. “Sorry for the language,” he adds, smiling sheepishly.
I answer him with a shrug. “It’s okay. I seem to be using that word and others like it a lot more frequently myself.”
“I know.” He grins back at me. “I read some of them in your shelter entries. What a potty mouth you have, Miss Dobbs.”
It’s my turn to be embarrassed. “Uh … Even the one where I was mad?”
“Yes. And you have every right to be angry.” Hudson reaches for my hand, making me drag the chair even closer. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can say it enough or often enough, but I’m really sorry for everything that happened. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”
“You might live to regret your statement, Mr. Calder.”
“Never,” he assures me with a smile.
Pulling my hand away, I lean back in the chair. “I have more questions.”
“Ask.”
“The papers I was supposed to sign. Did you forget?”
“Yes and no. I did forget about them that night but only because I was distracted by a beautiful woman.”
“Hudson—” I interrupt him. “Stop the charming act. Those papers were to protect both of us from being taken advantage of. Why didn’t you tell me to sign them?”
“Because they weren’t needed.”
“What?”
“I don’t own any of the business. It’s yours. None of my money is invested in it. I’m one of your paid employees, just like Oliver and David. Only you can sell any of our products. The investors own thirty-five percent, but you own the rest.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“When we signed the contract with Italia.”
I stare at him, confused by his words, wondering why he would do something like that. We built the business together—my ideas, his management. He’d worked as hard as me.