Chapter 17 Ilsa
Ilsa
Cosi didn’t wake as I slid out from beneath his arm, plucked his T-shirt off the floor to pull over my head and tiptoed out the door. The house was dark and quiet as I made my way to the kitchen. The air had a chill that raised goose bumps on my bare forearms and legs.
The clock on the microwave lit my way to the sink and the jar I’d washed after dinner, left to dry in a wire rack.
The last jar.
I hadn’t inspected every cupboard at the cabin, but at a glance, they’d all looked empty. I doubted there’d be any jars left unbroken. Whoever had vandalized my house had been thorough and ruthless.
A slimy, sickening feeling spread beneath my skin. It melded with the overwhelming urge to cry. I couldn’t decide if I was more sad than angry at the moment. It was like a set of scales never quite balancing, the emotions shifting back and forth until I was sick to my stomach.
The hatred it took to be so destructive. So cruel. Why me? What had I done to make someone so mad? Was it a student? A parent? Was this over some silly grade on a math test?
The lump in my throat was hard to swallow past as I took a drink of water. The sting in my nose was sharp. But I blinked away a fresh wave of tears and carried my water to the couch. My briefcase was on the coffee table where I’d left it after dinner.
Linda hadn’t stayed long tonight after we’d eaten spaghetti.
She’d peppered Spencer with questions about school and basketball during the meal, filling the silence.
As Cosi had washed the dishes, Spencer and I had knocked out his homework.
Then while they’d watched basketball, I’d worked on grading papers.
Anything to distract myself from the reality of this situation. Anything to not feel entirely disappointed in humanity.
Cosi had done his best to distract me too. The three orgasms he’d given me should have been enough to wear me out until his four a.m. alarm went off. But I just couldn’t sleep.
My mind was whirling over what to do next.
That cabin was my home. I still had to live there. I’d have to buy furniture to get me through the semester. It wouldn’t have to be much, a couch and a new mattress and a handful of dishes, but it was money I didn’t have to spend. Every dollar would cost twice its worth in an emotional toll.
Cleaning the cabin would take days. It would be hour upon hour of heartbreak. Most of Dad’s belongings were ruined, and I’d have no choice but to toss them out. I’d always planned to say goodbye to his things, but I’d hoped to sell or donate them. Now it was all destined for the trash.
There was a different level of hopelessness in taking all of a man’s possessions to the trash. It broke my heart all over again.
When it was done, there was a good chance all I’d have left was a single glass jar. And a journal I still hadn’t finished reading.
The clasps on my briefcase popped free with two soft clicks. The hinges had a slight squeak as I opened the top to lift out Dad’s journal.
My hand skimmed the cover, fingers sliding along soft leather before I reached for the lamp on the end table, flipping it on. Then I opened the book.
Dad’s letter, the one he’d mailed to me in Phoenix, was tucked before the first page.
Dear Ilsa,
Remember those days when you were little, and I used to tell you stories?
Behind it was the note Jerry had given me.
I flipped past the pages I’d already read, Dad’s letter to Donnie and those weird lines and numbers. I paused on the list he’d made of endless, random words.
Buck Knife
License
Chisel
Mirror
Beyond this point, it would all be new. Once I read it all, it would be over. My fingers trembled as I turned the page.
I miss you, Donnie. I don’t know how to live without you. The color has bled out from the world. It’s gray and dark and there’s a hole in my chest. I miss you so much it hurts. I don’t want this life, not without you.
My hand came to my sternum, pressing against the ache as I turned the page.
This was the place where he’d tucked a Polaroid into the spine. I didn’t recognize the woman in the photo, but it had to be Donnie.
She was so different than Mom. Where my mother was blond with blue eyes, this woman had silky black hair and dark eyes.
She looked younger than I’d expected, but maybe that was because in this photo, he’d captured her smiling.
It was such a raw, beautifully vivid picture I could practically hear the sound of her laughter.
A tear pooled at the corner of my eye, and I dabbed it away.
Was I really crying over a woman I’d never met? Yes. I sure was.
I flipped the page, expecting something else to pull at my heartstrings, but it was empty.
So was the page after that and the page after that.
I kept flipping, finding more empty pages.
Until finally I reached a page with a note written so close into the spine I had to flatten out the journal to the point it nearly cracked to see the ink.
Box 286
“Oh my God,” I whispered, closing my eyes.
Those boxes in Dad’s house. Had he numbered them all? I hadn’t noticed during the cleanup, but I hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the boxes themselves, more to the contents within.
And now those boxes were gone. All emptied and flattened down. Most were loaded in the Rabbit for me to haul away.
Shit. My head began to throb. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples, rubbing in slow circles, wishing any of this would click and make sense.
The couch dipped and my eyes flew open as Cosi sat down at my side. He was shirtless, only wearing his jeans. The dim light and lingering shadows accentuated the honed definition in his arms and shoulders and stomach.
“I’m getting tired of you sneaking out of my bed.”
“Sorry.” I leaned against his strong arm, soaking in the heat from his body. “I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you.”
“It’s all right.” He dropped a kiss to the top of my hair. It was only a chaste kiss, less than a second. But it was sweet and affectionate. It gave me butterflies.
What did we call this thing between us? It wasn’t a relationship, but it felt more serious than a casual fling. I guess until we figured out that label, I’d have to settle for kisses on my hair and the warmth that spread through my body when he was near.
He leaned forward, elbows to knees, and nodded at the journal. “What’s this?”
“Oh, it was Dad’s.” I closed the cover, handing it over. “The letter in the front is one he sent right before he died. I got it two days later. It’s a story about a lost treasure from the Garrack gold mining days. He was always into Montana history and ghost towns.”
“Mind if I read it?” Cosi asked.
“Not at all.” I stayed snuggled into his side as he pulled it from the book and envelope, reading over Dad’s neat script.
“Interesting story. Is that what he’s got in this journal? More stories?”
“No.” I let out a quiet, dry laugh. “The rest is a jumbled mix of sadness and nonsense. It’s all as weird as how I found the journal in the first place. That’s what the second letter is all about.”
He took out the note, reading it quickly. “This makes no sense.”
“Nope, not a bit. A friend of his brought it to me at the cabin. I was on the dock one day, looking out over the lake. Then this man walked up, across the ice.”
“What man?” Cosi’s frame stiffened.
“Jerry. I think he lives on Cotters.”
Twin lines formed between his eyebrows. “There’s no Jerry who lives out there.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Cosi nodded.
“Huh.” I replayed that conversation with Jerry, trying to remember the exact words and details.
That day seemed so long ago, even though it had been less than a month.
“Now that I think about it, he never said he lived out there. I guess I just assumed because he was so comfortable on the lake. He walked from my dock to the island.”
“Did he give you a last name?”
“No. Do you know who it is?”
Those lines between his eyebrows deepened. “No.”
Then who was Jerry? Unease spread through my bones as Cosi turned the note over, examining the back.
“What else did he say?”
“Not much. He said Dad asked him to give me that note. That Dad knew I’d be coming to Montana. Which is strange because I never told Dad I’d visit.”
“When was this?”
“Three weeks? Before the storm. It was on a Saturday. I’d been talking to a friend on the phone and it put me in a strange mood, so I went outside.”
I hadn’t spoken to Troy since that day. And I hadn’t thought much about him either. Strange how quickly he’d faded from my mind. My life. I owed him a phone call and an explanation, but I just didn’t have it in me to make that call right now.
“I have no idea what key Dad was talking about and I never found an atlas in the cabin. But there was so much junk, there’s a chance I threw it out.”
“And a tap dance?”
“That’s how I found this journal.” I touched the spine.
“I was talking to my mom, trying to figure this out. I guess when I was a little girl, I’d tap dance in the middle of the living room.
Dad would move the coffee table out of the way so I had space.
I moved the table and found a loose floorboard. The journal was underneath.”
“He hid this book beneath the floor?”
“Yep. It’s all very strange. There’s not much in there of substance. Some odd sketches. A list I think he made when he was packing. He wrote some letters to Donnie, after she passed. They’re hard to read. And it feels a bit like I’m invading his privacy.”
“Do you care if I read it?”
“No.” I shook my head. Maybe he could make sense of it where I couldn’t.
He ran a hand over his jaw, his gaze narrowing on the journal. “Describe Jerry for me.”
“Well, he was older. Probably Dad’s age. He was wearing a hat, but the hair that was sticking out from underneath was white. Blue eyes. His lips were really chapped.”
“Did he say anything else?” Cosi turned to face me, and even though he wasn’t wearing a shirt, he looked every bit the cop in interrogation mode that I’d met weeks ago.
“He, um . . . he said Dad’s death wasn’t an accident. That Dad wouldn’t have drowned.”
Understanding dawned on his face and he loosed a sigh. “That’s why you came to the station.”
“Yeah.” Jerry had been the person to plant those seeds of doubt. “I needed to hear it from you.”
Cosi set the journal aside to put his arm around my shoulders, hauling me close.
“It was an accident. I went and reviewed the file after you came in that day. Read through the notes and the medical exam three times. There’s always the chance that we missed something, but from everything I’ve got, everything I saw with my own eyes, it was an accident. ”
“I know.” I snuggled against him, loving how easily I fit into his side.
“This journal, that letter, is nonsense. A part of me was just clinging to the hope that Dad hadn’t entirely fallen apart.
But all the signs were there. When I came to the cabin, every room was filled with boxes.
I think Dad must have packed to move in with Donnie, and after she died, something in him broke.
Maybe his sanity. I found box after box filled with empty cans.
Lists made on napkins. It’s been hard knowing he was suffering, alone. ”
“For what it’s worth, people around Dalton loved Ike. He was a good man.”
“But he was still alone.”
“That’s not your fault.” He buried his nose in my hair, breathing it in, before he hauled me into his lap, cradling me against his chest.
Cosi held me like he had no intention of letting me go.
I curled into him, resting my cheek on his shoulder. It had been a long, long time since a man had held me like this. Since I’d let a man hold me.
But Cosi wasn’t the type to ask for permission. I was in his arms because that’s where he wanted me to be. End of story.
There was no fighting him. There was no keeping him at arm’s length. Not that I’d even tried.
How many men had I dated who’d let me push them away? How long had I used Troy as an excuse not to get too close to someone else?
I loved my dad. I missed him. But our relationship had left its scars. And I’d been protecting myself from getting close to others for too long.
This thing with Cosi might fizzle out in a week. I might leave Dalton with a shattered heart. But I had enough to worry about right now. At the moment, it just felt nice to be in his arms.
“Who do you think trashed my house?” I’d been too angry to ask on the drive to town. And it wasn’t anything I wanted to discuss in front of Spencer.
“A student. Some idiot teenager who’s going to learn a hard lesson when I catch them. Tomorrow, I’m going to ask you to give me names.”
Paul would be at the top. If it was him, I almost felt bad for the kid. Almost.
This seemed like such an extreme reaction to a new teacher, but I’d spent enough time around teenagers that I’d learned not to underestimate their emotions and hormones. And Paul had not made my life easier.
Maybe I should have taken his threats more seriously.
“I don’t want to go to school tomorrow,” I murmured.
“Then don’t. Call in sick. Take a day or two.”
“No.” I sighed. “Then they win.”
Cosi kissed my forehead. “Atta girl.”
I tilted up my chin until I met his hazel eyes. “Thanks for letting me stay. I promise I won’t intrude forever. I’ll see if there’s a rental or—”
He silenced me with a soft kiss. “You’re not leaving. I’m not done with you yet.”
I wanted to ask what happened when he was finished. How long until he’d grow tired of me in his bed. But I’d had enough disappointment for one day. Those questions would have to wait.
“Almost everything he left behind is ruined,” I said.
Cosi took my face in his hands, his thumbs tracing my cheekbones. “Not everything. He’s still in you, baby.”
If I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall for this man. I was going to drown in Cosi Raynes and probably end up broken and alone.
At the moment, I didn’t really care.
So I leaned in, taking his mouth and dragging my tongue across his lower lip. I swallowed his moan, pressing my palm over his heart to feel its steady beat. And then I sat up, my mouth never breaking from his as I straddled his lap.
His hands slid beneath the hem of his T-shirt, molding to my ass cheeks and pulling me down until my core rocked against the hardness growing in his jeans.
We kissed on the couch, exploring each other’s mouths. Grinding. Groping. Making out like teenagers until my lips were swollen, and I was soaking wet. Then he swept me up and carried me to his bed, fucking me so hard that there’d be no chance I woke up before his alarm.
Cosi wasn’t finished with me yet.
Good. I wasn’t finished with him either.