Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
SIERRA
A truck engine starts outside. I fight the urge to peek through the curtain.
It has to be Marshall leaving. A knot twists in my stomach. Maybe Cole left too.
No, he wouldn’t do that.
Not after his protests about leaving me alone while he works. He must be blowing off steam outside in the workshop.
What could he be doing out there?
I snuggle under the throw-blanket on the couch and wait. The living room starts to grow cool. The fire needs attention. Finally, I pry myself off the couch and walk on legs that have pins and needles to the hearth.
It’s been a while—maybe a few hours—since Cole left because all the logs I’d placed earlier have burned down.
My stomach growls as I kneel on the stone to move the log. Breakfast is long gone from my belly. I should eat.
When I reach for a log, my knees ache. I really do have bruises everywhere. Some are feeling better, some I’m getting used to now.
Once I add a few more logs and shuffle the coals around, I stand up to admire my work. Not bad.
Not sure how I got the knowledge needed to build a fire, but that particular question has low priority on the long list of unanswered questions.
When a second growl comes from behind my belly-button, I head for the kitchen.
The light is getting low outside as an early winter evening creeps in. It takes a minute to find the right switch for the lights over the sink. I stop to admire the pendant lamps. Hand blown glass? Maybe they’re from Italy too.
I should ask Cole. If he ever comes back. With a sigh, I turn and study the kitchen more carefully. It’s a lovely space. Plenty of room for people to cook together and hang out. The room is full of gorgeous appliances, lots of open counter space for prep, and is enhanced by a very handsome fridge.
I grin and laugh. Handsome.
Just like it’s owner. It’s tall and broad with strong looking doors. I swivel and walk around the kitchen exploring the cabinets I didn’t look in earlier. Something to eat will catch my eye, that’s how I’ll decide.
There’s a loaf of bread on the counter. The fridge is stocked with plenty of supplies for sandwiches. That I discovered earlier.
The cabinet next to the sink has a selection of pre-made soups in cans and cartons. But what fascinates me is the freezer. It’s stocked completely full with labeled containers.
“My mother did that,” Cole says, making me leap and scream.
Holy crap!
He shrugs out of his snowy coat and hangs it by the back door. “Sorry I scared you.”
My heart races as I flutter my hand over my chest. “It’s okay. I don’t need a defibrillator, this time.”
He stands stock still. God, he looks intense. I cover my cheeks with my palms, hoping that I’m not pale from being startled. The man will really freak out if he thinks I look faint.
I paste on a smile that makes my bruised cheek protest. “Maybe a little warning, next time, please.”
Cole’s unamused. The scowl he’s wearing gets worse. Yikes.
In a grumbled tone, he says, “Thought you heard me come in. I stomped my boots on the rug.”
“I was too busy being dazzled by this.” I point to the open freezer door and the perfectly organized glass containers. “There must be six months worth of meals.”
“Nolene stocked me up when I came home. She worries that I’m starving over here on this side of the valley.”
My stomach lets out a very loud protest as I focus one particularly tasty looking container marked White Chicken Chili.
“Well, I’ve got to thank this mother named Nolene because I’m going to eat this one. I hope you don’t mind.” After closing the freezer door, I ask, “Are you ready to eat?”
“Sure.”
But the look on his face says something else.
Anxiety immediately unfurls in my gut.
I know he’s stressed. So am I, and I’m over this emotional whiplash. It’s time for the rubber to meet the road. I stiffen my spine as I clutch the frozen food container. “Cole, what’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Silently, he moves across the room to me. He doesn’t stride, but he doesn’t drag his feet. There’s a war of some kind going on behind his eyes.
“Sit down, Sierra. We need to talk about some things.” He wraps a hand around my upper arm and guides me to one of the chairs. That’s when my worry blossoms into full blown distress.
His tone unnerves me. The edge on his expression flat out scares me. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Well, I’m pretty damned tense too, if that makes you feel any better. I’m not looking forward to what I’m about to do.”
Gulp. Just breathe, Sierra.
Only the room feels like there’s not enough air.
Words wheeze out of me. “Whatever it is. Just tell me. Nothing in my life makes sense right now. So I need for you to stop handling me like I’m fragile and be straight up with me.”
Cole leans forward, planting his elbows on his knees. His eyes are troubled. He studies me while my heart imitates a snare drum. With a terrible drummer.
He exhales. Scrubs his hand over his face.
I’m hanging by a thread that’s ready to snap. “For the love of God, Cole, please. Spit it out.”
Those dark, penetrating eyes drift closed before they open and nail me to my seat. “The whole fiancé thing was fabricated so you could be released from the hospital.”
It takes twenty seconds before the word fabricated really registers.
A weird sensation tightens my stomach. My hands feel cold and tingly. The entire world seems to come to a pinpoint of focus.
Just us. Awful silence.
I stammer, “Y-you lied about us being engaged?”
He wraps his hand around his jaw, rubs at the scruff, but he doesn’t answer. The man looks like he wants to bolt.
My voice rises and cracks. “You lied to…to me?”
“Yes, I lied.”
His eyes are so intense, I have to fight the urge to look away. But I don’t. I’m frozen.
It hurts deep in the pit of my body.
Not engaged…
I swallow as I try to make sense of this insane twist. “We’re a couple, but just not engaged—”
He cuts me off. “Not exactly.”
My brows go up dangerously high on my forehead. Any second my eyes are going to fall from my face.
Surely this isn’t happening. I’m going to wake up.
“I’m sorry,” he says in a low rasp.
Something hard feels lodged behind my breastbone, like a rock under a board. The tingling in my hands is now a buzz. There’s a hum in my ears that sounds like bees.
Questions tumble out of my mouth. “Why am I here and why would you lie for me?”
“Sierra, I’ll always do whatever it takes to make you safe. Cade called me and told me about your amnesia. There wasn’t anyone else who could look out for you. I came to the hospital as quickly as I could and did what I had to do. And… here we are.”
I swallow twice and my hands curl around the seat of the chair. Everything inside of me feels weird, like I’ve downed a gallon of ice water.
Christ.
A lie.
“We’re not engaged. We’re not a couple,” I repeat the bitter truth aloud just so I can hear it.
My words sting me all over again.
Cole leans back with a hard exhale and rubs his hands over his thighs. His jaw ticks. His shoulders are brittle. He looks like a man on the brink.
But I’m on the brink too and I’m not done. “I feel you when you look at me. My body has such a reaction to you.”
His eyes don’t leave mine. His voice is measured. “We have a past.”
The tiniest hint of relief edges into my chest.
So, we do have a past.
He’s not just some friend who whisked me away to a cabin in the snowy mountains of Utah.
But I can’t remember that past. At all. “Let me see if I understand this correctly. We have a past. But we’re not a couple now. But you care enough to fly across the country, retrieve me and bring me to your home.”
“Correct.”
Jesus. Why can’t this be simple? I press my fingers to both of my temples. “My head is killing me.”
Cole stands up and lifts the container of chili off the table. “I’ll heat this up and make some cornbread to go with it. Why don’t you take a bath or something?”
Right. Like he’s just shutting this down. Not hardly.
He’s not getting rid of me that easy. I stand up and move to block his path. “Why did we break up?”
Pressing his lips flat, he looks down at me with unreadable thoughts behind his eyes. “We’re not going there right now for your protection. It will hurt you and you’ve been traumatized. You’re safe. I’ll make sure you’ve got what you need as you recover.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when we left the hospital? Seems like once we exited the building you didn’t need to keep the lie up.”
“I wanted you to come here with me. And so you know, I never wanted to lie to you. But it’s what made sense.”
“You tricked me.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at him.
“Call it that if you like. I’m sorry if it hurt you, but I wanted you here where you’d be safe.”
I look away, letting my gaze fall to the center of his chest. For some stupid, idiotic reason I desperately need for him to hug me.
How nutso is that?
Cole’s knuckle slides against my chin, lifting my face until we’re eye-to-eye. “Be as angry as you want at me. I deserve it. But I need you to remember your promise to me—you’ll do what I say. It’s important so I can look out for you.”
Moisture floods my lashes. Stings the back of my eyes and along the inside of my throat. “What if I don’t want you to take care of me?”
What the hell did I just say?
He flinches and his hand falls away to hang limply by his side. “I can arrange for you to stay with my family.” He clears his throat and steps back. “But I hope you won’t choose that option.”
Tears spill over my lashes. The streaks they lay are cold against my burning cheeks.
Pressing my teeth into my lip, I fight for any kind of control over my emotions. “Why do you really want me here?” I rasp.
In a thick voice, he says, “Because I’m still in love with you.”