Chapter 8

Hannah filled the bowl with the rich chicken broth and carefully carried it over to where the injured man lay on the tiny cot in one corner of the room. His fever had broken the day before and, with Hannah's help, he had managed to get to his feet and walk across the room to lie on the cot instead of remaining on the floor. He was still weak and in a lot of pain but he was gradually becoming more alert and oriented.

"Hey," Hannah said softly as she knelt down beside the low cot. "I made you some broth. Can you eat some for me?"

He turned his head to look at her with those expressive sapphire eyes that seemed to see right through her. Those eyes did funny things to Hannah's stomach that she had never felt before. Feelings that she wasn't sure she was comfortable with. She smiled as she held out a spoonful of the rich broth.

After a moment's hesitation, the man opened his mouth and let her feed him. Something about his actions reminded Hannah of a baby bird accepting food from its mother. She was pleased when he ate over half the bowl of broth before shaking his head and refusing to eat any more.

"My name is Hannah and this is my cabin. Can you tell your name?" He looked at her with a puzzled frown and shook his head from side to side. Hannah regarded him with a frown of her own. "What are you trying to tell me? That you don't know your name?"

He closed his eyes in frustration and finally said in a hoarse, raspy voice "David. I think my name is David."

"David what?"

"I don't know. I don't remember anything else…" he admitted in a choked voice that was carefully controlled to suppress his emotions.

"It's okay…you hurt your head pretty bad," Hannah told him in a soothing tone. "Give it some time…I'm sure you'll be better soon."

"How long…" He whispered, opening his eyes and looking around the room anxiously.

"You've been here for almost a week." Hannah told him easily interpreting his unformed question. "You were pretty sick for a while."

"What happened?" Starsky asked looking at her for answers that he couldn't remember.

"I don't know for sure," Hannah told him gently not sure how much to tell him in his present condition. "I found you lying at the bottom of Devil's Gorge. It looked like you may have fallen from the top of the ridge." She decided not to mention the three men she had seen looking for him or the fact that his hands were tired behind his back when she found him. He was still too weak to be overwhelmed with too much information that he wasn't ready to hear.

"How bad?" he asked breathlessly. He was clearly tiring quickly from the simple exertion of talking.

"You have a lot of cuts and bruises…a pretty bad head injury…and a broken arm. Nothing that won't heal with enough time." She reached out and brushed her fingers through his thick, soft curls. "Get some rest. We can talk more later." Obediently, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Hannah straightened up and carried the bowl over to the table. She sat it down and then walked out onto the front porch. Sitting down on the wooden planks she gazed off into the distance lost in her own thoughts. She was no closer to solving the mystery of the man's identity than she had been before. She hoped that she had been right when she told him that all he needed was some more rest and to finish healing for his memory to return. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to wake up in a strange place and not be able to remember anything about yourself or your past. Not even your name

Hannah may not have had a lot of book learning but she knew that his head injury had been serious enough to possibly have caused some brain damage which would explain his loss of memory. She remembered stories she had heard as she was growing up about other unfortunates on the mountain who had been injured in a farm or hunting accident and had been left simple minded. Some of the elderly mountaineers had been rendered the same way by strokes that had left them unable to care for themselves. Such things were simply facts of life here in the mountains. Events that were accepted as inevitable just like the fever that had taken the lives of her parents and left Hannah alone.

As the sun began to set beneath the horizon, Hannah rose to her feet and went back inside. She lit the lantern on the table bathing the large one room cabin with a soft light. Humming under her breath, she went about her evening chores. She checked frequently on the man who thought his first name was David but he continued to sleep peacefully. After finishing her tasks, Hannah slipped in a long cotton gown and blew out the lantern before turning in for the night. Soon she was sleeping soundly as Angel lay on the floor between the bed and the cot guarding both her mistress and the injured man.

The next morning, David was awake when Hannah returned from milking the cow and gathering eggs. She smiled brightly pleased to see him looking so alert. "Good morning," she said "You hungry? How about some scrambled eggs?" He didn't answer but she didn't really expect him to. He followed her with his eyes as she quickly began to prepare breakfast. When she was finished, she fixed a plate and carried it over to the cot. She helped David sit up. He leaned back against the wall for support. Hannah sat the plate on his lap and rocked back on her heels to see how he responded.

After several minutes, he slowly reached out and clutched the fork in his right hand. The fork shook as he speared a bite of eggs and guided the fork to his mouth. He took a bite, chewing slowly and then swallowing.

"Good job!" Hannah said in a pleased voice. She sat there and watched him eat, ready to assist him if need be. His hand was a bit unsteady and he dropped a few bites on the sheet but he still managed to eat most of his breakfast. Hannah noticed that he seemed to use his right hand awkwardly as if he weren't used to using it that much. That meant his left hand could be his dominant hand which would make it more difficult for him until his left arm healed.

When he was done eating, Hannah poured a cup of coffee and carried it over to him. His hand was too unsteady to hold the hot coffee safely so Hannah carefully helped him sip from the cup. When he made a face after the first sip she added a few spoons of sugar which seemed to satisfy him. When the cup was empty, he looked at her with crooked smile that immediately melted her heart.

"Thank you." He said quietly. His voice was still hoarse and raspy but sounded stronger than it had the day before.

"You're welcome," Hannah told him with a grin. "Now that you can eat…you should regain your strength pretty quickly."

David looked at her, his sapphire eyes clouded with sadness. "I still can't remember who I am or where I came from. I'm not even sure that my name is David…it just feels right somehow."

"Try not to think about that right now. Just take it easy and give your body time to heal. You've been through a lot and you're still pretty weak."

He raised a shaky hand and carefully brushed his fingertips across the healing wound on his left temple. "This is why I can't remember, isn't it?"

"I think so but I don't know for sure."

"What happened to me?"

"I don't know. I told you I found you at the bottom of Devil's Gorge. It looked like you had fallen from the top of the ridge. I brought you back here and I've been taking care of you. That's about all I can tell you."

David looked at her intently as if judging if he believed her or not. Finally, he sighed softly apparently satisfied temporarily with her answers. Hannah knew that she could not evade more detailed questions as he grew stronger. But, for now, it seemed best to keep him in the dark about some of the more graphic details of his ordeal.