Caveman Read Online Free PDF Page B

the logs. I open my mouth to speak but my throat is too dry and my mouth even drier. I cough in an attempt to clear it and he spins around. Our eyes meet and lock and my heart starts beating fast immediately. Those eyes… I feel like they’re connected straight to my soul. But my mind must still be fuzzy because I can’t connect them with the face. Which of course is silly since I’m pretty sure I’ve never met this man in my life before. It doesn’t make sense.
    He pushes to his feet and covers the distance between us in two long strides. His hand lifting up and coming towards my face makes me flinch and then wince from the pain. He stops with his hand hovering over my face and something passes behind those eyes. Grayish-green. They remind me of the underside of leaves when the sun is hidden behind rain clouds.
    He moves his hand again more slowly, opening his palm as if to show me he means no harm. His fingers are rough against my skin as they push strands of hair to the side but their feel makes my stomach clench in a completely pleasant way. He turns his palm and presses the back of his fingers on my forehead, then my temple, then my cheek. He’s only checking for fever but it’s oddly comforting. I feel like I’m being taken care off and my eyes droop. I’m safe.
    My eyes drift completely closed when I feel his palm turn to cup my left cheek. His thumb brushes over the edge of my cheekbone and my head automatically leans into his touch. How can I feel so safe, so comfortable with this man? I don’t know him. I don’t even know his name. I open my mouth to ask him but I can’t get any words out. I’m drifting back to sleep. I’m so tired…
     
    I wake to the sound of crackling wood. That’s the only sound at first and then I hear more. Birds I think. And leaves being stirred by the wind. Yeah, that’s the sound of nature. How long has it been since I last heard nature so clearly? Nothing compares to it.
    I blink my eyes open slowly. I’m still in the cabin. It wasn’t a dream. Which means the man wasn’t a dream either. A good thing really. How pathetic would I’ve been dreaming of men I’d never seen before?
    The cabin is empty. I turn my head from side to side to take everything in. Small, quaint. Simple. A table, a chair, the bed I’m lying on. A couple of cabinets. The fireplace. As my mind seems to work better, I realize it’s not just simply a log cabin after all. This seems professionally made. The fireplace seems to be a mixture of granite and rock. The whole structure seems solid. Designed. It’s so at odds with the simplicity of its furniture.
    I push my body up to a sitting position. My head throbs slightly but it’s not something I can’t handle. A few deep breaths and most of it goes away. As soon as I’m seated, my eyebrows fly up to meet my hairline. My right leg is bandaged. But there’s nothing traditional about it. No actual bandages or gauzes. I can see a splint – an actual wooden splint – peeking out of cut cloth. Flannel cloth in stripes. What the…?
    I bring to mind the man. If there was one word I could describe him it’d be wild. He was like a caveman. A caveman in long-sleeved t-shirt and cargo pants. Was he wearing shoes? I can’t remember. Which is stupid actually because shoes aren’t important right now. What’s important is I find out where I am and what exactly has happened.
    I swing my legs over the side of the bed and wince when my right foot meets the wooden floor. That’s going to be hard to walk on. I try the splint and makeshift bandages and see that they stay firmly in place. Good. I wouldn’t want them to fall off along with my leg. God, I hope it’s not broken. If it is, trying to stand is going to hurt like a mother.
    I slowly put pressure on my right leg. It stings a bit but – again – nothing I can’t handle. I push to my feet entirely and hold my arms out to find my balance. Okay, that hurts a little more. Taking a few hesitant steps,