Chapter Eight
Piper
It can’t rain all the time—unless you’re in Ashwood in the spring.
Rain has been pouring down for days now. Not that I mind. I rather like the somber stillness of a days long storm. There is something so calming about the sound of rain, the smell of it in the air. It mingles perfectly with the fire I just got going in the fireplace.
We’ve been stuck in Pace’s cabin for close to five days. Outside a hell of a storm has raged on, stopping most life in Ashwood all together. I’ve loved every single moment of us being locked down at this cabin. Beside it having the most beautiful view of town from the huge bedroom windows, being forced to spend quality time with Pace has been wonderful.
Volunteering for the fire station means he has left a few times since I got here. I suppose I could have gone back to town with him. It just seemed pointless because we would both want me here once he was done being a hero. Being apart does not go well for either of us now.
“I miss you,” his voice hums despite the crackle of the bad connection. “Has Smokie worn you out yet, sweetheart?”
“I miss you too, honey. No, we’re having a grand time. Watching her dart outside to do her business in the downpour is adorable. dog is such spoiled princess,” I joke even as I curl up with that very spoiled dog, sipping hot tea and watching the rain.
“That just means I have two of you on my hands now, yeah? I will be home soon, unless we get another call out. With the storm passing, these emergencies will slow down. What should we do tonight, sweetheart?”
Smiling, I pull the thick, fluffy blanket we’re curled up in tighter around me. We’ve been on the phone together several times today. It’s how we spend the days he goes to town. I work on the comic strip while I roam around his beautiful cabin, spending time with Smokie and being happier than I have ever been.
Bettie’s been speaking to me loud and clear since I first got here. I finished the meet cute storyline for the deadline I needed, but I also have four more storylines done. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten ahead of things. I have just had so many ideas for Bettie’s stories—and for my own.
It seems obvious I’ve fallen in love with a mountain man.
I talk to him about everything and nothing all day long. We send long, cute, flirty messages or video chat if one of us grows too needy. I tell him all about Susie and my mother back home in True Ridge. About how I tried to be a good daughter and sister to somehow make up for how my father abandoned us. I think they would be proud of me now, of all the chances I have been taking lately.
Besides the mishap of me winding up in a tree with a wild rabbit after me, I've taken risks up on this mountain. I’ve gone hiking with Smokie, even if we can't go far due to downed trees and flooding. I saw a perfect spot for rock climbing about a mile beyond the cabin, so if the rain lets up soon, I might go give that a try.
Beyond outdoor adventures, being here with Pace is me taking a chance. Sharing space with someone, letting myself open up, be close to someone else, is a huge risk for me. I've told him about my trauma, about my troubles with friendships, relationships, and everything that seems to come to others with ease.
Pace does not judge me about being twenty-eight and unsure about who I want to be when I grow up. He took me on a hike where he talked about walking a little further, a little longer, each time. His analogy was that I can live life that way. I can go a little farther, try a little longer each time. Try new things, open up to new people, and find out who I am.
“Whatever we do, do not let me near an open flame,” I answer at last, a shudder of shame making Pace chuckle.
Last night, I tried to cook dinner before he got back from being called to town. With all the rain lately, several of the streams in town have flooded homes and businesses. Pace had to go assist with a rescue of some animals. As if being a hot, sweet, grumpy mountain man was not enough, his other persona is a tattooed, sweet, still grumpy fireman.
I truly had no chance of not falling in love with him.
“You’ve got me to rescue you anytime you need saving, sweetheart. For the time being, however, why don’t I just bring something home for dinner, yeah? Smokie is still recovering from those steaks.”
Hiding my face, I laugh with him. Yes, once I was done with those even Smokie refused the charred remains. I tried. It doesn't bother me how badly I failed because I tried. Plus, he kissed me for at least an hour as we let the cool mountain rain take care of the smoke from my mishap.
“You do that, doc,” I tell him as I smile huge. He can't see it because we're just chatting but I know I must look a fool.
Not just because I am excited to see him in a few hours. Or because I finished another storyline for Bettie's next adventure. Not for the cookies cooling on the counter that he has no idea I made—I can't cook with fire but with a stove, I can bake with the best of them. No, his words excite me for the strangest, silliest, reason.
Pace mentioned coming home for dinner—to this cabin, which is his home and now kind of feels like mine too.
“I will be back as soon as I can, sweetheart. Handling some more debris disasters. This storm is doing a number Ashwood. I am glad you came to my place the day you did.”
“Because it gives you a valid reason to keep me prisoner?”
“Yes. Absolutely, baby. You can't leave that mountain without some help. Sure as hell ain't helping my dream girl get away from me.”
That huge smile I had just gets bigger. Glad that's how he feels because I have no plans to go anywhere. Not as long as he wants me here. I love this cabin, his beautiful, sweet pup Smokie, being up on the mountain and…the nights we've shared together feel magical. While we haven't bothered to call this anything, I think we're on the same page about it.
I belong to the sweet, hot, mountain-man-slash-firefighter.
We’re interrupted by an alarm sounding at the fire station. I can hear some of the other firefighters, whom he talks of often, telling him to stop being such a teenager and hang up the phone. I laugh and tell him to go play a hero as long as they need him.
Cuddling up on the big fluffy chair with Smokie, I doze off for a little while. I dream of a thousand afternoons just like this. Drawing and writing my stories, maybe even creating new characters to go on their own adventures. Laughing with Pace between calls while he's at the fire station. Nights sitting with him by the fireplace, talking in the dark, making love.
“It's too hot,” I murmur as I stir, smelling the smoke from the fireplace. It is way too hot in here now. Hot and loud. What is that?
Slowly, I come to, hearing Smokie’s booming barks as I slide across the hardwood floor. What is happening? Blinking fast to clear the fog, I cough. Smoke? Why am I…. why is the dog dragging me across the floor? It's so hot in here. What is going on, what have I done?
“Smokie, calm down girl. What's wrong?”
Clouds of smoke fill the small front room of the cabin. Fire? Is there a fire somewhere? My chest burns as a coughing fit overtakes me. Smokie drags me to the door. Coming to my senses, I pull the door open and let her rush out, with me fast on her furry heels.
Rain still pours down from the gray skies, coming down in powerful a wall of ice-cold drops. I shudder in the boxers and tank top I borrowed from Pace's dresser this morning. Taking a moment to catch my breath as I inhale cool, crisp air, I try to figure out what just happened. How was there a fire? Was it just smoke from the fireplace where I started a fire earlier?
“What did I do?”
Backing up from the cabin, I am swamped with guilt. With shock. What have I done? Did I start a fire in the cabin of a man who lost everything he knew to a fire? Jesus what is wrong with me? I tell the dog to wait for me before I turn back to rush inside, hoping she listens.
Coughing as I duck back inside, I glance towards the fireplace. That fire I stoked to life with so much effort earlier is out. Just orange cinders remain, a slow trickle of smoke wafting from hearth. Frowning, I cover my mouth as more smoke billows out. Then I see it. Jesus, so much for being good at baking. The entire stove is smoking, some flames licking out from the oven doors.
Rushing towards the kitchen, I grab the bowl I mixed those cookies in earlier. Filling it with water, I cough and sputter as I pull open the door of the oven. It burns my hand, and I shout, almost dumping the bowl. I catch it in time and toss it at the tiny fire flickering inside the oven.
“You cannot come back from this. It could have been anything else. Anything else besides a damn fire. What were you thinking? What can you get right, Pipes? Nothing. Right when you've gotten all you could ever want, you literally set it on fire. This was a bad idea. Bad idea.”
Once I have the fire out, I set to cleaning up the mess. No matter how I scrub or what pretty things I spray, the smell of smoke clings to the air. It fills the entire cabin. I've ruined this place. Ruined the one place he could come feel safe. The first place I’ve felt at home since leaving True Ridge. How could I have done this? How could I be so reckless?
With the cabin still smelling of smoke, I take Smokie for a quick walk. I linger in the woods, claiming a last few moments of peace. I take my time getting back because I have to go. Before he gets back. No more nights by the fireplace or lying in bed listening to the rain pouring outside. As if confirming this, the rain slows until it stops altogether.
“Thanks for the sign, I appreciate it. I will be on my way, don't you worry. I can't be here with him.”
After changing, I write a note I hate having to write. I tell him how good this time with him has been. The best time. How I am so glad I took a chance I was not brave enough to take before he found me in that tree. Before he saved me. Because he did, save me. Then, I go.
I guess I won’t be able to save the mountain man after all.