Chapter 4
Norah
Oh my god, that did not come out right at all. He coughs out a chuckle. My cheeks burn. “Look, that bed is huge. We can share so no one needs to sleep on the floor.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “Fine. I still want you to shower first while I make up the bed. I bag all the linens and towels before I leave so they’re clean when I come back since I never know how long I’ll be gone. This last time was four months.”
Grabbing my bag containing my last clean pajamas and the towel he holds out to me, I go into the bathroom.
It’s almost small for me at five-nine with a curvy body.
How does he fit? Once in the shower I realize he’s added a curb-mounted skylight in the shower stall to give him the extra height he would need.
Water sluicing over my body has never felt so good.
I almost feel human. Then the pain of losing Nana ripping away what feels like everything else in my life, school, job.
It’s as if I’m free falling with nothing to hold on to.
No one to catch me. No one to trust. I wish I could stand here forever and let it wash the whole last year away.
But that’s selfish. I need to hurry for him. He’s already done so much. His water heater probably isn’t huge and he’s waiting his turn.
After drying and dressing I hang my towel on one of the two hooks inside the door, and he’ll have room for his on the other.
He’s crouched in front of the fireplace adding another log.
His feet are bare, and he’s removed his shirt.
A couple scars mar his back, one on the shoulder one closer to his waist. Thick thighs and hard buttocks lead to a narrow waist, and shoulders so broad they almost block the fire.
His muscles ripple as he works the flames.
With his ball cap off I notice he’s got a top knot with an undercut fade that I hadn’t noticed.
Somehow that makes him appear even more dangerous.
Like a marauding pirate taking his plunder.
My breath hitches, an ache blossoms in my lower body.
Stop it. You’ve been reading too many romances. Focus.
Glancing over his shoulder, he scans my body from feet to the top of my head then stands. He pulls a packing bag from under the bed and removes an oversized floor pillow. “Sit by the fire so your hair can dry while I shower. Then we’ll put on a load of clothes for you.
“Thank you.”
With my back to the flames, I enjoy the heat as I brush my hair. The cabin is small by any standards with the extra-large bed taking up most of the space. I wonder if it’s even large enough for him. He’s so big he makes me feel small.
A dorm size refrigerator, two-burner hot plate, an old fashioned drip coffee maker, and a sink make up the kitchen. There’s a stack washer and dryer in the corner.
A single Adirondack chair is in the other corner by the window. An axe hangs over the door. Clean, sparse, no nonsense, like the man.
Comfortable. Safe.
It’s not long before he returns barefoot wearing only sweatpants and carrying his clothes. “You okay with me throwing a couple things in with your wash?”
“Sure.”
“I ran a prewash cycle earlier to clear the pipes. We should be good. From sediment.”
“Nana used to do the same. Was your farm in the mountains?” His jaw clenches as he starts the wash.
“Nah, flat fields of Iowa. But we didn’t have much. My brother and I did most of the work to keep the place running.”
“What about your parents?”
He turns to me, the mixture of pain and hate in his eyes has me taking a step back.
“While my dad sat at the bar in the nearby town, Mom was isolated at the house trying to raise us, tend the animals, and make side money by any means she could. She was a transcriptionist and did baking and cleaning when she could. They’re both gone.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. Was it an accident?”
“There was a bus that picked up the country kids for school, even the junior high kids. Bram, my brother, and I would take care of the chores when we came home. One day we came home and found Mom beat to hell. We called an ambulance. Bram went with Mom to the hospital. I went to find our dad.
“Mom was never the same. Brain damage, couldn’t work because of a shoulder injury, got addicted to the pain meds.
“They’re dead.”
I touch his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “She made it until we graduated. Then quietly died of an overdose. She’s in a better place. I joined the military, Bram went to school and runs a private Therapy and Rehab Clinic on the old property.”
“Your dad?”
He holds my gaze. “They never found him.”
“I won’t ever hurt you. I won’t let anyone else hurt you. But I’m not a nice man. Remember that. Now get in bed and go to sleep. I’m gonna do a perimeter check.”
I watch him leave. I can read between the lines of what he said and didn’t say about his father. Part of me knows I should be shocked, terrified, and hightailing it as quick as I can off this mountain.
Then I think of Nana, and wonder if her accident was really an accident. I had doubts when I first heard. But Mom was so confident. Now, hearing Rake’s immediate response... I agree with him. That kind of an accident doesn’t sound like Nana.
Mom was pushing her to do something. I don’t know what. I do remember overhearing Nana telling her, ‘When hell freezes over’. Mom’s a bitch but she wouldn’t harm Nana. Would she?
I don’t trust my jerk wad stepdad. The ‘I’m a Pyles and my family built this town’ has always been a player and self-important.
He even tried to grope me one night then played it off as an accident.
But if what Rake is saying is true, we’re talking about murder.
Even if he’s a loser, could he be a killer? And does Mom know?
God, my head hurts. Rolling to my side, I curl around one of the pillows. This can’t be happening. It has to be a bad dream and I’ll wake up soon.