Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
ZANE
Devin’s face holds a mixture of part horror, part disbelief, and a tiny dash of amusement.
“There’s the chairs; you can put them together to make a bed. Or we can share. Unless you’re a kicker. In which case you can definitely take the chairs. Are you a kicker?”
“Um, I don’t think so,” he says slowly.
“That’s good, then. Nova wriggles a lot and I tell you, it’s really annoying.”
“Nope, pretty sure I’m not.” He still looks perplexed.
“That’s good, then.”
“You knew there was only one bed?” he asks.
“Of course. I’ve been coming here ever since I was ten.”
“And you don’t think that’s a bit odd?”
“Why should it be? I’ve shared with my dad, and with Nova. For a few years with both my dad and my uncle, though when that became too squashed, I used the chairs,” I try to explain.
“But we’re not family. It’s different.”
“It is, but I’m your boss, and I’m paying you to be out here.
These are the facilities. You take the chairs or we share.
It’s your choice.” I can’t really see a problem, and I leave him standing in the middle of the room with his dark brows still drawn into a thick line.
I place the saddlebags on the table and start unpacking the supplies, and after a sigh he follows and starts helping.
“You really don’t think it strange to share your bed with another guy?” He starts up again.
“Look, I’ve been out here for over twenty years.
I’ve also been on cattle drives for my uncle where we might spend three days camping out, or in a small bunkhouse on the route.
Then you’re sharing a space with maybe six guys and there might be two or three beds.
All you’re doing is using it to get some sleep before you get back to work.
So yeah, better if you’re not a kicker. Or a snorer. Do you snore?”
He shakes his head, looking only slightly less confused.
“But a few weeks ago you could barely stand to be in the same room as me,” he blurts out, and I stop midway through placing some cans in the cupboard.
How can I explain to him something I can’t even work out myself?
He’s a good worker, that’s for sure. But it’s more than that.
There’s something that draws me to him, it’s unsettling but not unpleasant, and I want more of it.
His quick remarks make me smile and his dark eyes cause my stomach to dance.
I don’t know what it means, but I can’t tell him any of that.
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind,” I settle on and get back to work, turning away from him so he can’t see my face, which heats with embarrassment. “There are some logs on the porch. Can you fill the basket next to the range?” I ask and he goes outside.
I take a few minutes to breathe deeply. I hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with sharing a bed.
I’ve done it dozens of times. But Devin’s questioning makes me unsettled.
It’s too late now, though, so I push the thoughts away and concentrate on making the cabin more habitable.
I light the range, and while it’s heating up we dust and sweep the cabin and fetch water.
Thankfully the silence isn’t awkward, and Devin hums as he works.
The tune sounds familiar but I can’t quite place it.
We heat up some stew Arlene made for us and eat it on the porch, looking out over the valley, with the mountain behind us.
“That way is Foggy Basin.” I point to a barely visible dark mass to the east, then to the south. “And that’s Big Butte Lake, where Butte Creek runs into.”
“It’s a great view,” Devin says and I agree. I gather up the plates and take them inside.
“Would you like some tea?” I ask. “Or there are a few bottles of beer if you’d prefer.”
“I don’t drink,” he replies. I remember him saying that when I interviewed him, but I didn’t realize he actually meant it.
“What, never?”
“Not anymore.” There’s a hardness to his voice that tells me there’s a story there, but his tone is warning me off prying. I start to make us both a mug of tea, and as I unwrap the teabags I see the package Arlene put in the saddlebags.
“Arlene sent us butter cookies,” I say as I hand Devin his tea and offer him the pack so he can take a couple. I settle back in my chair and rest my feet on the railing in front of me, starting to relax.
“These are amazing,” he says, his voice muffled by a mouth full of cookie.
It’s getting dark and an animal calls in the wilderness.
“What the fuck was that?” Devin turns to me.
“Probably a coyote.”
“A coyote huh? Was Nova right about the animals?”
“Oh yes. We have coyotes, a few bobcats. Mountain lions and bears. It’s the snakes you need to watch for. It’s rattler season.”
“You’re kidding, right?” There’s a small amount of light coming from the open doorway of the cabin and I can see his dark eyes go wide. Then he starts scanning the landscape.
“Relax, they’re not hungry at this time of year, so they probably won’t bother us.”
“I should have asked for danger money. Is it too late to negotiate?” he asks, and he looks so serious I can’t hide a chuckle.
“Sorry, you’re stuck here now. Unless you care to ride home.”
“I’ll pass, thanks.” He gives me a quick grin, and I can see he’s still nervous so I suggest we go inside.
He starts to relax once the door is shut and bolted.
“Don’t you have bears in the UK?”
“No, nor any mountain lions, coyotes, and certainly no rattlesnakes. You might get a bite from a squirrel if you’re daft enough to feed them. But that’s about as bad as it gets.”
“Yeah, you want to stay away from them. They carry the plague.” I agree with him.
“The plague? Ours don’t carry the plague. Jeez, I don’t like the cities so much, but I’m starting to change my mind, they seem safer.”
“So, city boy, which side of the bed do you want?” I’m tired and we need to start early in the morning.
“City boy, huh?” His eyes flicker slightly, and I get a brief toothy grin, which ignites a small spark inside me.
I smile back but don’t answer, I just lean back against the table and cross my arms. He glances towards the bed and then at the door.
“The left. It’s furthest from the door. That way, if any bears get in they can maul you first,” he says and I laugh. I’m enjoying this trip more than I thought I would.