Chapter 3
three
Luke
W hat the ever-loving hell possessed me to invite this woman into my home? Once I realized she was uninjured I should have made sure she was heading in the right direction and let her go. She seems capable enough. Definitely determined enough.
I’m not sure how I feel about the possibility of having a permanent camp established so close to me. I don’t need a bunch of rich ‘look at my fancy hand’ dicks lording over me. Most of them probably don’t deserve the technology any more than I do. Maybe with her here, until the rain ends, I can figure out some way to dissuade her from her plans.
Not that I really begrudge anyone something that makes their life easier. More normal. If her company really does have ways for those without money to use their fancy prosthetics I should give her the benefit of the doubt.
She won’t be here long. Once the rain’s over and it’s safe for her to hike out of here, she’ll be gone. Chances are I won’t ever see her again.
That thought nearly stops me in my tracks. Shit. Even though she’s wearing a loose jacket and baggy pants that hide her shape, I’ve felt her against me. All of her. Against all of me. She’s curvy and soft in all the right places. My fingers twitch at the memory of my palm cupping her wide hips. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten how it feels to desire a woman. Not that I’ve ever done anything with that desire. Except experience a solo release.
She follows me onto the wide porch, my favorite place in my home. “Wow,” she says as she tugs off her cap and shakes out a long mane of burgundy hair. The oddly colored curls tempt me to wrap the length around my fingers, testing the silk and softness of the strands. When was the last time I wanted to actually touch something? To feel and experience?
What’s wrong with me? A woman falls from the sky and…
“This place is really nice. Bigger than I expected. What do you use for power?”
My mind is still captivated by the bounce of her hair so it takes me a moment to form an answer. “Combination of solar and wind turbine. Have propane for cooking and heating. Water tank. The previous owners wanted more luxury than I need.”
“Good to have the basics covered. No problem with getting water or fuel deliveries?”
Why is she asking such mundane questions?
“There I go, talking business. Although, if you don’t mind and we have time later, could I ask you some questions about the area? For my research?”
No harm in that. She’ll get her answers and leave. That works for me. Except…I don’t want her to leave. Not yet. Not until I… What? Impress her with my personality? Dazzle her with my charm? Hell, I’ve already said more to her in a few minutes than I’ve spoken with another human in a month. Stick with the plan to get her safely on her way. I don’t need reminders of my failures.
“Uh sure,” I finally mumble and her expectant expression morphs into a smile. It’s as though the rain suddenly ended and the sun returned to brighten the world. Except a blast of cold wind drives the heavy rain under the porch roof and she shivers. I swing my prosthesis toward the door, then jerk it back hoping she doesn’t notice my wince of pain. “Get inside.”
“Thank you for opening your home to me. I doubt I’d experience this nice of a welcome if I parachuted onto a stranger’s property back home. I guess the wilderness can actually pull people together even when they’re miles apart and rarely see each other.” She gives me a pointed look with her bright hazel eyes. “Depending on ourselves is necessary, but it’s also good to depend on others. At least a little bit.”
With one eyebrow arched, she passes me and enters my cabin. I’m not sure what to make of her statement. I do just fine by myself.
The movement of my shoulder opens my claw and I grab the pack I’d let fall to the floor. The weight causes a tiny adjustment of my lower arm inside the socket of my device. Pain lances up my arm. I need to get this thing off as soon as possible.
Sierra stands in the middle of the open living space, making no pretense of not being curious. I’m sure if she enters my bathroom, she’ll probably go through the cabinet. She moves toward the kitchen island saying, “And again I say wow. This is a remarkable space.”
After dropping her loaded harness and packs on one end of the couch, I return my first aid kit to its place. One of the first lessons I’d learned as a firefighter was to keep equipment in a designated location. Not having to look for something could be the difference between life and…
My sister’s face flashes into my memory. How the tears filling her eyes reflected the burning apartment around us. The promise I’d made. The promise I wasn’t able to keep. The roar of fire. Screams. The crash of beams…
A soft touch on my shoulder slowly causes the visions to fade. Fuck. That one snuck up on me. I didn’t have the opportunity to fight the memory or delay the effect. At least now I don’t have to pretend. Now she knows I’m damaged beyond repair.
“Are you okay, Luke?”
Her soft tone holds a wealth of concern I don’t deserve. I take a jerking step away from the comfort of her touch. “Yeah. Fine. No worries. Uh…”
Thank god she doesn’t push although her expression promises she won’t forget. Then she glances down at herself and pulls her damp jacket away from her chest. Even with pain filled fragments of the memories clinging to me, I can’t help but stare at her lush body.
“Didn’t seem like it was raining that hard but I’m soaked. I’ve got dry clothes in my pack. Where can I change?”
Lifting my normal hand, I point down a hall. “Bath’s on the left.”
“Great. I won’t be long, then you can get dried off, too.” She gives me another of her pointed looks as she grabs her bag and unhooks it from the parachute harness. “Then how about something to eat? I’ll share my rations and we’ll get to know each other. Who knows. If the property works for the camp, we could be neighbors.”
The sway of her hips as she walks away dries my mouth and I swallow hard. My feet move to follow her and I force myself to stand firm until she closes the bathroom door behind her. I can get through this. She won’t be here long. I’ll get rid of her as soon as the rain stops.
The soft background noise of wind-tossed rain hitting the windows confirms what I didn’t want to admit. This front isn’t moving on soon. It will probably rain at least through the night, if not longer. I can’t allow her to leave. Not when I don’t know if she really can take care of herself. Bravado and the Alaskan wilderness are not easy companions.
I slip into my bedroom and quickly change into dry jeans. The pain in my arm is brutal, forcing me to remove my prosthetic. Dealing with what I’ve been told is normal pain and irritation from the device and the burns on my arm, makes it difficult to keep my skin healthy. Even after a year and a half there are places where the burns haven’t completely healed.
The supplies I need, creams, moisturizers, and gauze are in the bathroom so I’ll have to wait to tend to the new raw area. Until then, I carefully pull a clean cotton cover over the stump then shrug on a long sleeved shirt over my tee to disguise the emptiness at the end of my arm.
I exit my room at the same moment Sierra emerges from the bathroom. “Oh, uh, that’s good timing,” she says.
I feel the heat of her gaze from my head to my toes and back up to meet my eyes. Warmth flows through me when she smiles. A rebellious part of me, the small part that doesn’t accept the guilt and shame, hopes there is approval in her smile. That she likes what she sees.
What there is of me.
“Where should I hang my damp clothes?”
“Like I said, the original owners wanted luxury. And convenience. There’s a washer and dryer in the back utility room. Don’t get used much but should get the job done.”
She glances toward the kitchen area. “That door next to the fridge?”
I nod. “Do you know how to run a gas dryer?”
“Actually, I do. One of my foster homes had one.” Then she strides toward the door like she owns this place.
I don’t dislike that thought.
Instead of dwelling on impossible possibilities, I enter the bathroom to tend to my arm. Finished with cleansing the area and applying a healing antibiotic, I blow out a relieved breath as the cool, numbing cream takes effect.
“Those are bad burns,” Sierra says in a near whisper.
I jerk and hide my arm behind my back. I’d been so focused on dealing with my wounds, I hadn’t noticed Sierra returning. How long has she been watching?
“Will you tell me how you lost your hand? I don’t mean to pry. Well, maybe I do, because that’s the kind of person I am. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want.”
“It’s not a pretty story.”
“I’m sure it isn’t. And even though I’m prying, I won’t really push. Just tell me to shut the fuck up if you need to.”
Her words surprise me.
“Oh, don’t look so shocked. Even when I was placed in a foster home, I still pretty much grew up on the streets. I can swear with the best of ’em.” Then she seems to shrink in on herself a little and bats her long eyelashes. “I also know how to be a lady when that’s called for.” Straightening, she rolls her shoulders. “I prefer my street smart self.”
Her actions and words make me chuckle. “I think I do as well.”
“Good, then I’m going to say this plain. Your arm needs more care than you’ve taken time for. I’d like to help by offering a gentle massage to stimulate healing and maybe help lessen scaring from the burns. It’s something many people don’t like doing for themselves. Too much time, feels too self-indulgent.” She pauses and holds my gaze. “Or they don’t feel like they deserve the best care.”
She’s too observant. I’m not going to be able to talk or ignore my way out of this situation. I don’t like touching my scars, that’s why I often wear my claw for too long at one time. Maybe if I give in, she won’t have so many questions. “Okay, what do we do?”
Eyes sparkling with delight, she points to the couch then draws back her hand and taps her finger against her cheek. “Do I have your permission to look through your care items to see if you have what I need?”
I’ve got a wide variety of stuff doctors and physical therapists have suggested or given to me. I’m not sure what all of the jars and tubes are for anymore. If Sierra can figure it out, I won’t complain. I acknowledge her request with a sharp nod.
“Good. Then you go sit on the couch and I’ll be right there. I’m going to help you feel good.”