APOLLO RISING (The Apollo Saga, Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the room that he realized he hadn’t asked for her name. He glanced around the room for clues, but was immediately drawn to the fireplace instead. He struggled to rise to his feet, careful not to place any added pressure on his right leg, and secured the blanket around his waist. He hobbled a few paces, determined for warmth, and moved a piece of firewood into the hearth.
    A small fire soon crackled and smoked as he rested his arm on the mantle and admired the glow. He surrendered a deep and guttural sigh, realizing that it had been days since he could enjoy even a moment of relief.
    Tyler’s eyes wandered again, looking for clues to the woman and her story. His fleeting comfort was cut short by curiosity as he noticed a set of dusty, old frames leaning upright against the mantle. He wiped away the veil of soot from one of the images, revealing what appeared to be a family photo. A young girl stood center, holding a beaver upside down by its hind legs. A man and a woman stood beside her, smiling like prideful parents.
    “Hunters,” he mumbled under his breath. A smirk grew across his lips as he glanced back at the shotgun. “That explains it.”
    Feeling somewhat relieved, he moved on to the next photograph. It bore an image of an older woman with a gentle smile, arms around a young girl—perhaps a teenager already—as she, too, smiled for the camera. Both women’s hair and facial features faintly resembled the woman he had just met.
    Probing further, the third photo (taken recently, he concluded), showed the same two women, and this time, Tyler was able to positively identify the younger one as the woman he had woken up next to that morning. He picked up the frame, admiring her enchanting smile, and felt instantaneously disappointed that he had somehow managed to not garner the same result from her. He would have to work on his charm.
    He studied the photo once more before setting it back down, his eyes shifting back to the older woman. “And I’d be willing to bet my good leg, that’s Grandma.”
    His wager was suspended by a voice, “Find something interesting?”
    Startled, Tyler twisted around to find his caretaker had returned; fully dressed and carrying a handful of garments.
    “Uh, yeah! I was just, you know, looking at your photos here.” His fingers fumbled over the frames as he knocked one down and tried to right it.
    “You’re snooping,” she corrected him, setting the clothes on the sofa.
    “No,” he argued, “I didn’t. I mean, I wasn’t.” He realized he wasn’t winning any points by quarreling, and quickly conceded. “Okay,” he admitted, “so maybe I was.”
    She ignored him.
    “Here, I found some old clothes in the closet. They were my Grandfather’s so they’re probably not your style, but at least you’ll have something to wear until we can figure how to get you out of here.” She unfolded a pair of worn-out Dungarees and a tattered flannel, and held them against her petite frame. “These look like they’ll fit you, right?”
    Tyler nodded his head, although deep down he hoped she had brought another choice.
    “And you’ll need these, too” she added, tossing him a pair of bright red long johns. “Get’s pretty cold up here.”
    “Oh c’mon! ” he cried, calling foul as he swallowed his words. Long underwear wasn’t quite the choice he’d had in mind.
    An arch of her brow revealed her misgivings toward him and he quickly resolved to heed her recommendations; at this point, anything was warmer, and less embarrassing, than standing around wearing nothing but his pride wrapped in a blanket anyway. He forced himself to show a little humbleness, “Thanks.”
    The woman paid no attention to his feigned appreciation and turned toward the kitchen, “You can change in the back,” she told him. “I’ll put some hot water on, I hope you like soup.”
    Tyler couldn’t tell is she was trying to distance herself from the awkwardness of their morning, or if there was