3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Deacon
Pink.
Cheeks, sweater, box—all of it pink.
What all this pink was doing on my doorstep was a wonder. I didn’t want visitors, least of all a woman like this, with her rosiness and long, shiny brown hair draping over tits I could tell were round and soft, even with a sweater covering them. All of her looked that way, like there wasn’t a single sharp corner.
What was sweet little Phoebe Kelly doing knocking on my door? No doubt her daddy and brothers would not approve.
“Yeah?” I gruffed.
“Hey.” She dug her teeth into her full bottom lip, waiting like she expected something from me. I didn’t know what. She’d been the one to knock on my door. “I stopped by to say hi. It seems like we’re neighbors.”
“Ah.” This news rocked me back on my heels. I hadn’t given much thought to who rented the apartment below mine. Seemed I should have. “Sorry ’bout the pots. Hit ’em when I was moving my bed in. Give me the name of the store you got ’em from, I’ll replace them.”
She shook her head. “Thanks for that, but they came from an artist who lives on Wind River. Too far for you to be trekking to buy some pots. I’m going to try to glue them back together if I can. Otherwise…” She sighed as she trailed off.
“All right. Then tell me what they cost. I break something, I’m going to settle up.”
Her brown eyes were big and bright, and she had them pinned on me, scraping over my face. With recognition? Doubted it. She’d know my name. Everyone in town knew the Slaters, and that was so they could steer clear. There was not a chance Phoebe had given a thought to me since we’d been in school together.
“Don’t worry about it. I understand accidents happen.” She smiled straight at me, confident and friendly. “I’m just glad to have a new neighbor. My sister, Hannah, lived here before you. It’s been too quiet, not hearing her footsteps marching around upstairs.”
“I don’t plan on making much noise.” I’d need to take my boots off when I got home so this soft, pink woman didn’t have to put up with any extra racket.
“Well, as long as you don’t set fire to your oven like Hannah, I think we’ll get along fine.”
I nodded. “I noticed the scorch marks on the wall. I’ve got no plans of adding to them.”
Her giggle was sugar-laced. “Yeah, Hannah and cooking don’t mix. Fortunately, our parents had supplied her with a fire extinguisher when she moved in. They knew all too well the kind of damage she’s capable of.”
I didn’t have much to say to that. Having the kind of parents who cared enough to buy me a fire extinguisher was as foreign to me as Japanese—a language I’d never learned and only heard in passing.
Phoebe sucked in a breath. “Anyway, I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I brought you some baked goods from my shop, Sugar Rush. I don’t know what you like, so I picked out some of everything.” She tapped the lid of the box in her hands. “And I wrote my number in case you ever need anything.”
I didn’t need to look inside the box to know I wouldn’t be eating the contents.
“No thanks.”
Her eyes flared with surprise. “No…you don’t want it?”
I shook my head, as much as it pained me. Something sweet on my tongue that’d been baked by this pink woman would have more decadence than I’d know what to do with. But life had served me a hell of a lot of lemons, including allergies that might kill me if I ate the wrong thing.
“Appreciate the gesture. Won’t eat it. Might as well give it to someone who will.”
She withdrew the box, hugging it against her middle. “Okay. I know not everyone likes sweets…” She put on another smile, this one a little wobbly. “I’ll leave you to moving in. If you need anything, I’m downstairs at night or at Sugar Rush all day. Oh, and I’m Phoebe.”
Confirmed what I already knew. She didn’t have a clue who I was. Not that I was mad about it. The years hadn’t been easy on me. I didn’t look the same as I had back then, and it wasn’t like we’d been friends. She had no call to remember me. I should’ve forgotten her too, but I hadn’t been around enough good to replace those memories of Phoebe Kelly smiling at me like I’d meant something.
I tipped my chin. “Deke.”
“Deke,” she whispered under her breath, like she was testing the feel of it. Then I got a dose of her sweetness in the form of rosy cheeks and fluttering lashes. “I’ll see you around, Deke. I hope you settle in nicely.”
I didn’t let myself watch her leave. Once she turned away, I closed the door and locked it, putting all thoughts of her aside.
Walking into my new bedroom, I took a seat on the side of my mattress to unlace my boots and placed them next to my bed before I lay on my back. I stared up at the ceiling, dappled with light filtering in through the curtains.
It’d been a year since I’d walked out of the prison gates, and this was the first place I was considering making my home, at least for a while. There wasn’t much to it. A mattress and box spring in the matchbox bedroom. A camp chair and folding table in the living room. A few plates and silverware given to me by my aunt in the kitchen. But to me, it was a luxury. I didn’t have to listen to anyone snoring or making other sounds I’d rather not dwell on. The air was clean and fresh. Lights went on or off when I wanted, and I’d never have to wait in line for the bathroom.
Luxury.
Without meaning to, my mind drifted back to Phoebe Kelly. I hadn’t seen her since graduating high school almost ten years ago. I wasn’t surprised she still lived in town. Her family’s roots ran deep in these parts. The Kelly Ranch was twenty or thirty thousand acres. They owned so much land it went from prairie to rivers to mountains. Most of the town loved them, but there were plenty who resented them too.
My mom and dad hadn’t thought much of them. The Kellys lording their fortune over the town while we’d struggled to get by. That was what they’d said, anyway.
I’d never thought Phoebe had lorded anything. I’d been the dirty kid in worn-out hand-me-downs with holes in my shoes. She’d been pristine in her jeans, boots, and girly, fussy tops. But the few times our paths had crossed, she’d talked to me like we were the same. She’d say hi when she was with her friends, like knowing me wasn’t something to be embarrassed about.
She’d treated everyone that way, though. It was no wonder she’d forgotten about me. What’d been something special to me had been everyday life for her.
What were the chances she’d live right downstairs from me?
I guessed getting daily glimpses of her would be a luxury too.
That was all I’d get.
And that was all right with me. I’d learned a long time ago not to expect much so I was never disappointed.
I climbed into my truck before first light. My jobsite was a long drive from Sugar Brush, but that was the way in Wyoming—nothing was close, just how we liked it.
I turned the key in my ignition at the same time Phoebe walked down the steps and hit the sidewalk. She was bundled in a puffy black coat that went to her knees and a light-pink hat with something fuzzy on top. It was almost spring, but winter always clung hard around here, and she was out walking before the sun had even risen.
I’d caught sight of a woman walking down the sidewalk on my way to work yesterday. That must’ve been her.
Before she turned away from me, she stopped and peered directly into my windshield. The cab was dark, so there was no way she could see me, but that didn’t deter her from walking straight to my window and tapping on it.
With no way out, I rolled it down. “Morning.”
She blew out a puff of air. “Oh, good. It’s you.”
My brows rose. “That’s good?”
“Considering the other option was some random man sitting here watching me, yeah, I’m glad it’s you.” She brushed a strand of hair off her face with her mittened hand. “I think I saw you driving down Main Street yesterday morning too.”
I inclined my chin. “That was me.”
“Going to work?”
“Yep.”
Her nose was getting rosy as she stood here talking to me while I sat in my slowly warming truck. She needed to move along. I did too.
“I am too.” She crinkled her nose. “I know you don’t want pastries, but if you like coffee, I make a mean cup. We open at six, but if you’re leaving now, I guess that’s too late for you.”
“It is. I have to be on my way.”
She backed up a step, probably from the firmness in my tone. I hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but I didn’t have a lot of practice at exchanging pleasantries with neighbors. Truth be told, I didn’t intend to make a habit of it either.
It took her a beat, but she pulled herself together enough to smile. “Well, all right, Deacon. Hope you have a good day at work.”
“You too.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she shouldn’t be walking alone in the dark, but I bit it back. She knew what she was doing, and this town was safer than most.
She raised her hands. “See you later.”
I gave her a nod as I rolled up my window. It went against my instincts, but as soon as she was clear, I reversed out of my spot and drove off, watching her disappear in my rearview. She’d probably been getting herself to work without my interference for years. She didn’t need my concern, and I didn’t need to get caught up in thinking about what could happen to her out there on her own.
She’d be fine.
Besides, Phoebe Kelly was none of my business.