BackWoods Of Canada

BACKWOODS OF CANADA

By: Kyara Caledonii

Copyright March 28, 2000

"Wow," I thought, "who would have believed a scared little girl from Texas would have ended up riding the back country of Canada." I could hardly believe the beauty of it! What lush green trees, they had to have been around for hundreds of years. No traffic, just me and my motorcycle riding through the countryside. Who could ask for anything more?

I was a little bit distracted by the beauty and decided to set my mind back on the riding. Just as I entered the curve, I saw it. Another motorcyclist, obviously used to having the road to himself, he was in my lane. All I could do was lay the motorcycle down and hope for the best. Last thing I remembered was thanking my best friend for my birthday gift, leathers and a new helmet.

'Where am I?' I wondered, waking up in a room that was unfamiliar. Hearing a sound I slowly turned my head towards it. There was a woman dressed in white standing near my bed.

"Where am I?" I asked.

The woman slowly turned around, I could tell she was a nurse. "You're at St. Peters Hospital, do you remember what happened to you?" The nurse asked.

Shaking my head no, the nurse continued.

"Well, from what I've been told you had a motorcycle accident, you were very lucky. I'll call the doctor to explain everything to you," the nurse said as she left the room.

Soon an older male in a white coat entered. "My name is Doctor Portere," he said with a French accent. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm not sure. What's wrong with me and where am I?"

"You are in Montreal, Canada, You had a motorcycle accident and are pretty banged up. You have been unconscious for two days with a concussion. You also broke your left wrist, broke your right foot and you have some road rash but you were lucky! It was a good thing you were wearing your leathers and helmet, it could have been a lot worse!"

"How did I get here?"

"A gentleman brought you in. I understand that's where all the flowers came from, apparently he is very concerned about you." Slowly turning my head I finally noticed the several bouquets of flowers throughout the room. Why would a complete stranger send me flowers, I wondered?

Turning back to the doctor, I asked "When can I get out of here?"

"You can leave the hospital today but you'll need to stay down for at least a week".

"So let me get this straight, I can leave here but I have to stay in Montreal for a week. I can't afford that, where will I stay?" I exclaimed.

"No need to worry about that," a voice sounded from the doorway.

Did everyone have French accents around here, I wondered as I turned my head to see who was speaking. GOOD LORD, I thought and probably would have shouted if my face hadn't hurt so much ever time I moved it. There standing in the doorway was THE, I repeat, THE most gorgeous man I ever saw, beautiful cinnamon brown hair, just touching his wonderfully broad shoulders, green eyes you could melt in. His presence just filled the room as he walked in.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"My name is Roy."

"Who are you and why are you here?" I questioned him again.

"I'm here to take care of you." This was just like pulling teeth to get any answers from him.

"What do you mean you're here to take care of me?"

"I'm responsible for your accident and I plan on taking care of you," he finally explained.

"You... you were the other rider?"

"Yes" was his simple reply. God, this was going to be difficult.

"What were you thinking, taking up the roadway like that?"

"I'm sorry," was all he stated. He turned to the doctor and instructed him that I would be released to him and he would handle my follow up medical care.

"Wait just a minute, I am not going with a stranger. I have no idea who you are or where you're taking me, no way."

Roy turned to me and just stared, finally he asked "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

Suddenly it dawned on me, I have no where else to go, I have to go with him. "No" I stated.

Roy turned to the doctor, "I'll make the arrangements." Without another word he left the room.

Now what am I going to do, I don't have enough money to go somewhere else, I don't even know the town but to go with a stranger. Somehow I felt it was okay to go with him, I felt safe with him. Now why would I feel safe with him. My life had certainly taken a strange turn.

Roy returned after a couple of hours. He carried a bag, setting it down on the bed, he started to leave.

"Roy" He turned. "What's in the bag?"

"Clothing of course" was his reply as he left the room. As he walked out a nurse walked in, she stated Roy had instructed her to assist me in getting ready. He thought of everything.

Opening the bag I found a wonderful V neck light gray sweater (which would fit over my cast nicely), a beautiful long black leather skirt with a slit up to my thigh (this article of clothing got me a little bit worried, however I guess it would be easier than trying to put on pants with my bad foot) beautiful undergarments. How did he know my sizes? He even included a hair brush. This could become too easy, too easy to be taken care of like this.

After finishing dressing and having the nurse help me with my hair, Roy returned.

"Thank you for the beautiful clothes, Roy"

"Beautiful clothes for a beautiful woman." Roy replied. This brought my head up to the point where we were staring at each other. This only lasted for a moment or two but seemed like a lifetime to me.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

" To my farmhouse in the country".

"Roy, I'm not sure about this, you're a stranger and yet somehow I feel safe with you, I just....I just don't understand, I barely know you."

"You will be safe." He whispered, stealing my breath away.

Almost an hour after leaving the hospital, we were turning down a dirt road that continued to his farmhouse. Once we arrived, Roy got out of the vehicle and came over to my door. Roy leaned down, placing one arm under my knees and the other around my waist. He lifted me as if I weighed nothing. This

could become very dangerous I thought to myself, I could certainly get used to this. I have never felt so safe and secure in all my life.

Upon entering the farmhouse I noticed the rustic look of everything. It looked like a decorator had been working on it. "Roy, who decorated your house?"

He looked at me with a blank stare. "What?" Again with the single response.

"Roy, who decorated your farmhouse, it's wonderful, I love the colors and the furniture. It's marvelous"

"I decorated it myself, if you can call it decorated. I just found things I liked and brought them here," he replied. I nearly fell off the couch he had placed me on, Roy said more than one or two words. Maybe he would open up after all.

"Which room is mine?" I asked scanning the farmhouse.

"I'm sorry, there is only one bedroom ready to be used." was his answer.

"Roy, what are you doing? There is no way we can share one bedroom."

He slightly smiled, "No, Are you sure?"

No, I wasn't sure but for now I needed to be strong. "No." I replied.

"Well, then I guess I'll have to sleep on the couch, while you take the bedroom."

"Why did you insist that I stay with you when you knew there wasn't enough room?"

Roy slowly turned away from the fire he had just started in the fireplace and looked in my eyes. "I wanted to get to know you better, I wanted to take care of you, I wanted to.......never mind. I just wanted to be sure you'd be okay."

"Oh, Roy," was all I could say. Roy carried me up to the bedroom so I could rest. He laid me on the bed and then he bent down and kissed my forehead. Oh, yes, this could be dangerous.

It's strange, I'm waking up in a strange man's house and yet I feel at home.

My life is becoming very complicated, I thougth to myself. Looking off to the right I see Roy, sitting in a chair, staring at me. Somehow I knew he'd be there. "Roy, would you take me out to the porch for a breath of fresh air." I asked.

"Certainly." Roy at his best, one word sentences, I'm getting use to them now. Arriving on the porch Roy places me on the small love seat and sits next to me. My heart is pounding, his leg is touching mine. My God, what is wrong with me, this is just crazy. I don't know him, I don't know anything about him. Why am I acting this way?

Looking at everything and anything but Roy, I asked him what happened to my motorcycle?

"I have taken care of it."

"What do you mean you've taken care of it?"

"It will be returned to your home"

"How do you know where I live?"

"I have sources."

Knowing he won't tell me any more, I changed the subject. "How long have you lived here?"

"almost ten years."

"What do you do for a living, Roy?"

"It's difficult to explain."

"Maybe that's why I feel so safe with you," I say teasingly.

"Possibly," stone faced as usual.

"Do you travel alot?"

"Who looks after this place when your gone?"

"I have a caretaker, he stays elsewhere when I stay here."

Looking into Roy's eyes, I ask the question that's been on my mind since leaving the hospital. "Are you taking care of me because you feel guilty from the accident, because you shouldn't. My mind had been wandering just before the accident, it was as much my fault as yours."

"No, I want to take care of you."

"Why would you want to take care of a stranger, someone you've never met?"

"You look like you needed someone to take care for you."

"Look, Roy, I can take care of myself usually. It's just being in a different country, laid up like this, it's a little hard."

"Sometimes with my line of work, I just need to help someone, I think it helps me too."

"Well, I'm glad you picked me to help." I said as I turned my eyes into Roy's glaze.

Roy reaches over with his hand and gently rubs my eyebrow with his thumb, then rubs the back of his hand across my cheek bone. "I am too." he whispers. Slowly Roy bends to softly kiss my eyes, softly kiss my lips, ever so gently he caresses my arm. Suddenly Roy's cell phone rings, ending our embrace. I look away, embarrassed, as Roy answers the call. He doesn't say hello, he just listens then closes the phone.

"I have to leave."

"Why, where are you going?"

"I can't explain it, just trust me. I'll have the caretaker assist you until I get back."

"How long will you be gone?"

"A week, maybe more."

"Roy, I'll be gone by then."

"Please wait," he whispered to me.

"I can't, I have to get back to my family and my job. You know where I live, can you come for a visit?" I look at him with pleading eyes.

"We'll see," he replies as he heads back into the farmhouse. I hear him making the call to the caretaker.

I've been home for 2 weeks, it seems like a lifetime. How could I have left him? I wish I could have stayed. My family thought I was crazy, letting myself be taken care of by a stranger. If they only knew him, they'd understand.

Suddenly my doorbell rings. Slowly making my way to the door, I'm, of course, anticipating, hoping, praying it will be him. As I open the door I find a delivery man, maybe next time I think to myself.

The deliveryman smiles at me, asks if I'm Cyaran MacKenzie? "Yes," I reply, wondering what he's delivering. He simply turns and points to the driveway. There sits a new 2002 Harley Davidson Springer Softail - FXSTSI Motorcycle. I turn to the deliveryman with confusion on my face. "Where did this come from?"

Behind me I hear "From me." The French accent, the whisper. Oh my God I think to myself, turning around. Yes, it's him, waiting for me.

"Roy, I've missed you."

"And I, you," he whispers against my cheek as he takes me into his arms.

The deliveryman smiles to himself and closes the door.


	BACKWOODS OF CANADA By: Kyara Caledonii Copyright March 28, 2000 *All Rights Reserved. Story cannot be reprinted/reproduced without Kyara's permission.* "Wow," I thought, "who would have believed a scared little girl from Texas would have ended up riding the back country of Canada." I could hardly believe the beauty of it! What lush green trees, they had to have been around for hundreds of years. No traffic, just me and my motorcycle riding through the countryside. Who could ask for anything more? I was a little bit distracted by the beauty and decided to set my mind back on the riding. Just as I entered the curve, I saw it. Another motorcyclist, obviously used to having the road to himself, he was in my lane. All I could do was lay the motorcycle down and hope for the best. Last thing I remembered was thanking my best friend for my birthday gift, leathers and a new helmet. 'Where am I?' I wondered, waking up in a room that was unfamiliar. Hearing a sound I slowly turned my head towards it. There was a woman dressed in white standing near my bed. "Where am I?" I asked. The woman slowly turned around, I could tell she was a nurse. "You're at St. Peters Hospital, do you remember what happened to you?" The nurse asked. Shaking my head no, the nurse continued. "Well, from what I've been told you had a motorcycle accident, you were very lucky. I'll call the doctor to explain everything to you," the nurse said as she left the room. Soon an older male in a white coat entered. "My name is Doctor Portere," he said with a French accent. "How are you feeling?" "I'm not sure. What's wrong with me and where am I?" "You are in Montreal, Canada, You had a motorcycle accident and are pretty banged up. You have been unconscious for two days with a concussion. You also broke your left wrist, broke your right foot and you have some road rash but you were lucky! It was a good thing you were wearing your leathers and helmet, it could have been a lot worse!" "How did I get here?" "A gentleman brought you in. I understand that's where all the flowers came from, apparently he is very concerned about you." Slowly turning my head I finally noticed the several bouquets of flowers throughout the room. Why would a complete stranger send me flowers, I wondered? Turning back to the doctor, I asked "When can I get out of here?" "You can leave the hospital today but you'll need to stay down for at least a week". "So let me get this straight, I can leave here but I have to stay in Montreal for a week. I can't afford that, where will I stay?" I exclaimed. "No need to worry about that," a voice sounded from the doorway. Did everyone have French accents around here, I wondered as I turned my head to see who was speaking. GOOD LORD, I thought and probably would have shouted if my face hadn't hurt so much ever time I moved it. There standing in the doorway was THE, I repeat, THE most gorgeous man I ever saw, beautiful cinnamon brown hair, just touching his wonderfully broad shoulders, green eyes you could melt in. His presence just filled the room as he walked in. "Who are you?" I asked. "My name is Roy." "Who are you and why are you here?" I questioned him again. "I'm here to take care of you." This was just like pulling teeth to get any answers from him. "What do you mean you're here to take care of me?" "I'm responsible for your accident and I plan on taking care of you," he finally explained. "You... you were the other rider?" "Yes" was his simple reply. God, this was going to be difficult. "What were you thinking, taking up the roadway like that?" "I'm sorry," was all he stated. He turned to the doctor and instructed him that I would be released to him and he would handle my follow up medical care. "Wait just a minute, I am not going with a stranger. I have no idea who you are or where you're taking me, no way." Roy turned to me and just stared, finally he asked "Do you have anywhere else to go?" Suddenly it dawned on me, I have no where else to go, I have to go with him. "No" I stated. Roy turned to the doctor, "I'll make the arrangements." Without another word he left the room. Now what am I going to do, I don't have enough money to go somewhere else, I don't even know the town but to go with a stranger. Somehow I felt it was okay to go with him, I felt safe with him. Now why would I feel safe with him. My life had certainly taken a strange turn. Roy returned after a couple of hours. He carried a bag, setting it down on the bed, he started to leave. "Roy" He turned. "What's in the bag?" "Clothing of course" was his reply as he left the room. As he walked out a nurse walked in, she stated Roy had instructed her to assist me in getting ready. He thought of everything. Opening the bag I found a wonderful V neck light gray sweater (which would fit over my cast nicely), a beautiful long black leather skirt with a slit up to my thigh (this article of clothing got me a little bit worried, however I guess it would be easier than trying to put on pants with my bad foot) beautiful undergarments. How did he know my sizes? He even included a hair brush. This could become too easy, too easy to be taken care of like this. After finishing dressing and having the nurse help me with my hair, Roy returned. "Thank you for the beautiful clothes, Roy" "Beautiful clothes for a beautiful woman." Roy replied. This brought my head up to the point where we were staring at each other. This only lasted for a moment or two but seemed like a lifetime to me. "Where are you taking me?" I asked. " To my farmhouse in the country". "Roy, I'm not sure about this, you're a stranger and yet somehow I feel safe with you, I just....I just don't understand, I barely know you." "You will be safe." He whispered, stealing my breath away. Almost an hour after leaving the hospital, we were turning down a dirt road that continued to his farmhouse. Once we arrived, Roy got out of the vehicle and came over to my door. Roy leaned down, placing one arm under my knees and the other around my waist. He lifted me as if I weighed nothing. This could become very dangerous I thought to myself, I could certainly get used to this. I have never felt so safe and secure in all my life. Upon entering the farmhouse I noticed the rustic look of everything. It looked like a decorator had been working on it. "Roy, who decorated your house?" He looked at me with a blank stare. "What?" Again with the single response. "Roy, who decorated your farmhouse, it's wonderful, I love the colors and the furniture. It's marvelous" "I decorated it myself, if you can call it decorated. I just found things I liked and brought them here," he replied. I nearly fell off the couch he had placed me on, Roy said more than one or two words. Maybe he would open up after all. "Which room is mine?" I asked scanning the farmhouse. "I'm sorry, there is only one bedroom ready to be used." was his answer. "Roy, what are you doing? There is no way we can share one bedroom." He slightly smiled, "No, Are you sure?" No, I wasn't sure but for now I needed to be strong. "No." I replied. "Well, then I guess I'll have to sleep on the couch, while you take the bedroom." "Why did you insist that I stay with you when you knew there wasn't enough room?" Roy slowly turned away from the fire he had just started in the fireplace and looked in my eyes. "I wanted to get to know you better, I wanted to take care of you, I wanted to.......never mind. I just wanted to be sure you'd be okay." "Oh, Roy," was all I could say. Roy carried me up to the bedroom so I could rest. He laid me on the bed and then he bent down and kissed my forehead. Oh, yes, this could be dangerous. It's strange, I'm waking up in a strange man's house and yet I feel at home. My life is becoming very complicated, I thougth to myself. Looking off to the right I see Roy, sitting in a chair, staring at me. Somehow I knew he'd be there. "Roy, would you take me out to the porch for a breath of fresh air." I asked. "Certainly." Roy at his best, one word sentences, I'm getting use to them now. Arriving on the porch Roy places me on the small love seat and sits next to me. My heart is pounding, his leg is touching mine. My God, what is wrong with me, this is just crazy. I don't know him, I don't know anything about him. Why am I acting this way? Looking at everything and anything but Roy, I asked him what happened to my motorcycle? "I have taken care of it." "What do you mean you've taken care of it?" "It will be returned to your home" "How do you know where I live?" "I have sources." Knowing he won't tell me any more, I changed the subject. "How long have you lived here?" "almost ten years." "What do you do for a living, Roy?" "It's difficult to explain." "Maybe that's why I feel so safe with you," I say teasingly. "Possibly," stone faced as usual. "Do you travel alot?" "Yes." "Who looks after this place when your gone?" "I have a caretaker, he stays elsewhere when I stay here." Looking into Roy's eyes, I ask the question that's been on my mind since leaving the hospital. "Are you taking care of me because you feel guilty from the accident, because you shouldn't. My mind had been wandering just before the accident, it was as much my fault as yours." "No, I want to take care of you." "Why would you want to take care of a stranger, someone you've never met?" "You look like you needed someone to take care for you." "Look, Roy, I can take care of myself usually. It's just being in a different country, laid up like this, it's a little hard." "Sometimes with my line of work, I just need to help someone, I think it helps me too." "Well, I'm glad you picked me to help." I said as I turned my eyes into Roy's glaze. Roy reaches over with his hand and gently rubs my eyebrow with his thumb, then rubs the back of his hand across my cheek bone. "I am too." he whispers. Slowly Roy bends to softly kiss my eyes, softly kiss my lips, ever so gently he caresses my arm. Suddenly Roy's cell phone rings, ending our embrace. I look away, embarrassed, as Roy answers the call. He doesn't say hello, he just listens then closes the phone. "I have to leave." "Why, where are you going?" "I can't explain it, just trust me. I'll have the caretaker assist you until I get back." "How long will you be gone?" "A week, maybe more." "Roy, I'll be gone by then." "Please wait," he whispered to me. "I can't, I have to get back to my family and my job. You know where I live, can you come for a visit?" I look at him with pleading eyes. "We'll see," he replies as he heads back into the farmhouse. I hear him making the call to the caretaker. ~~~~~~~* I've been home for 2 weeks, it seems like a lifetime. How could I have left him? I wish I could have stayed. My family thought I was crazy, letting myself be taken care of by a stranger. If they only knew him, they'd understand. Suddenly my doorbell rings. Slowly making my way to the door, I'm, of course, anticipating, hoping, praying it will be him. As I open the door I find a delivery man, maybe next time I think to myself. The deliveryman smiles at me, asks if I'm Cyaran MacKenzie? "Yes," I reply, wondering what he's delivering. He simply turns and points to the driveway. There sits a new 2002 Harley Davidson Springer Softail - FXSTSI Motorcycle. I turn to the deliveryman with confusion on my face. "Where did this come from?" Behind me I hear "From me." The French accent, the whisper. Oh my God I think to myself, turning around. Yes, it's him, waiting for me. "Roy, I've missed you." "And I, you," he whispers against my cheek as he takes me into his arms. The deliveryman smiles to himself and closes the door. The End