Page 7 of Searching for Bristol
Bristol stared at the man who’d found her. The relief that had swamped her at hearing her name being called from somewhere behind her had been so great, she thought she would pass out. Though…the man who appeared out of the trees had scared her at first.
He was wearing a military-green T-shirt, camo pants, had a fairly long, bushy beard, and was extremely muscular. She could see the hint of a tattoo peeking beneath one of the sleeves of his shirt, and he had a large pack on his back. For a second, she was afraid she’d gone from being in trouble, to being indeeptrouble. But then he’d introduced himself, mentioned Sandra, and got right to work trying to make her feel better.
Bristol wasn’t a very worldly person. She spent most of her time by herself in her house in Kingsport, lost in her art. But there was something about this large man that had her trusting him in short order. Maybe it was because he was the first person she’d seen in days. Or because she knew, deep down to her bones, that she never would’ve made it back to the trail by herself. Maybe it was the look in his deep brown eyes when he’d asked permission to cut her pants, or his obvious skill when he’d re-splinted her leg.
Whatever the case, Bristol now had no doubt that this man wouldn’t hurt her.
She watched as he rummaged in his pack for something to put on her hands. They hurt, but not as badly as her leg. However, whatever pills Rocky had given her were already starting to take effect. She felt kind of floaty. She was still aware of where she was and what was happening, but it sort of felt as if it was happening to someone else, and she was watching from above.
She was smiling slightly when he turned back to her with a bottle of some sort of liquid in his hands and some gauze.
“What?” he asked after seeing her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” she said. “I feel great, actually. Anyone ever tell you that you kind of look like Bigfoot?”
He hesitated a moment, staring at her, before bursting into laughter.
Bristol couldn’t do anything but stare back. He was a good-looking man, there was no doubt about that, but when he laughed? He was freakinggorgeous.
She’d never been with a man who had a beard before. She wondered if it itched. If it got in his way when he ate. Did it feel weird when he went swimming, and did he brush it in the mornings, like people did with their hair? She had so many questions, but even in her floaty state, she knew they were probably inappropriate.
“Can’t say they have, but with all the fuss about Bigfoot and that damn show, I’m guessing I’ll be hearing it more often now.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Bristol apologized as he began to gently clean one of her hands. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d damaged her skin as she pulled herself along the forest floor, but she literally didn’t have a choice, so even if shehadrealized it at the time, it couldn’t have been helped.
Rocky grinned. “You didn’t offend me,” he said. “I’m hard to offend. Besides, with my beard, and you being…pint-sized, I probablydolook like Sasquatch.”
“How tall are you?” Bristol asked. She wouldn’t have been so nosy without the drugs in her system, but since he didn’t seem upset, she couldn’t hold back the question.
“Six feet.”
“Hmmmm. Over a foot taller than me.”
He smiled. “Guessing you’re probably used to that, yeah?”
“Being shorter than most people? Uh-huh.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing Raiden didn’t come with me after all.”
“Why? Who’s Raiden?” Bristol asked.
“My friend. He’s on the SAR team with me. He’s six-eight.”
Bristol stared at Rocky with wide eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yup. I think his bloodhound is probably taller than you.”
She frowned. “Iknowyou’re not making fun of my height. I mean, not poor little me. Lost in the woods. Injured and in pain.” She was kidding. Mostly.
Rocky looked at her, and all humor was gone from his expression now. “I’d never make fun of you,” he said seriously. “I don’t give a rat’s asshowtall or short you are. Or about your weight, your heritage, or any other superficial thing people use to discriminate these days. I care more about who you are inside. Are you the kind of person who would just walk by someone in need? Or would you stop in the middle of a busy highway to save a frightened kitten?”
“I’d stop,” Bristol whispered, feeling ensnared by the intense look in his eyes.
They stared at each other for a long moment before he nodded. “I could’ve guessed that about you. You made quite the impression on Sandra.”
Bristol blinked, feeling as if something important had just happened, but not sure what. “She’s nice. She listened to my bitching about Mike. Like,reallylistened because she was interested, not just because she wanted my business.”
“Mike?” Rocky asked as he continued cleaning her palm.
