Chapter 3
Hall
She stood in the moonlight, shivering so hard I knew it wasn’t from the chill in the air.
She’d lost the quilt at some point, and the moonlight revealed the soft curve of her breasts held in place by the thin straps of her low-cut nightgown. Her chest rose and fell with each shaky breath.
The woman was beautiful. She was full-bodied with big brown eyes. Her wavy chestnut hair tumbled around her shoulders, mussed from sleep.
Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks flushed from the cold, and something in my chest twisted at the sight of her.
She looked so lost.
“I can’t go back to Abeline,” she blurted out, her voice cracking on the final word. “I can’t. I won’t.”
I didn’t know who or what Abeline was. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was the fear in her eyes when she said it, and the hint of desperation.
Whatever Abeline was, it had wounded her more than her house burning down.
In the distance, the owl called out again, its voice echoing across the valley. The mountains rose up around us, dark shapes against a darker sky, and I was suddenly very aware of how alone we were out here.
How alone she was.
“You don’t have to,” the words came out before I could think them through. “You can stay with me.”
The spring night pressed in around us, cold and damp. Smoke hung thick in the air, mixing with the scent of wet ash and pine.
Her eyes went wide. “What?”
“My cabin. Up the mountain.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder toward the ridge. “It’s not much, but it’s warm and… safe.”
She stared at me without comprehending my words. I couldn’t blame her. I was a stranger who’d just crashed through her bedroom window and dragged her out of her house.
Other than the fact that I’d just put out her kitchen fire, she had no reason to trust me.
But she also had no options unless she wanted to get in her car and find a motel at this late hour of the night.
“I don’t even know your name,” she whispered.
“Hall. Hall Evers.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I’m Cassidy, uh, Cassidy Mitchell.”
Cassidy. I turned the name over in my mind, liking the way it sounded.
She was still shivering. Her nightgown was short, barely reaching mid-thigh. I could see goosebumps rising on her bare arms.
I tried not to notice how low-cut the nightgown was, and how the hem fell short on her thighs. I noticed anyway. She was only half-dressed, with her thick curves on display.
“My clothes,” she said, glancing back at the house. “My shoes. I should get…”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. I softened my voice. “The smoke’s too strong. Everything in there will be saturated. You’ll make yourself sick breathing it in.”
Her face crumpled. “But everything I own is in there.”
“I’ll give you clothes. Whatever you need.” I didn’t know if I had anything that would fit her, but I’d figure it out. I’d figure everything out. I just needed to get her somewhere warm and safe.
Cassidy looked up at me then, her eyes latching onto mine like I was something solid in a world that had just fallen apart. Like I was a hero.
I wasn’t a hero. I’d just done what needed doing. But the way she looked at me made me want to be one.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”
“Come on, then, Cassidy,” I rumbled as I guided her up the mountain.
The trail was familiar to me, even in the dark. I’d walked it a thousand times and knew every root and rock by feel. But she didn’t.
Within minutes she stumbled.
I turned back to see her hobbling, her bare feet torn up by the rough ground. Blood smeared across a flat stone where she’d stepped.
“Stop,” I said.
“I’m fine. I can make it.”
She couldn’t, we both knew it.
So I closed the distance between us and scooped her up into my arms.
Cassidy let out a startled sound, her hands flying to my shoulders. “You don’t have to…”
“I know.” I didn’t put her down.
She was soft. That was the first thing I noticed. Soft and warm against my bare chest, her curves fitting against me in a way that made my blood heat despite the cold.
My body responded before my brain could stop it. It was just a stirring low in my gut at first.
Then a tightening in my chest. Followed by a flicker of life in my cock. I gritted my teeth and focused on the trail, putting one foot in front of the other.
She was vulnerable and scared, and this wasn’t the time. I heard the soft hitch in her breath as she tried not to cry.
Then she did cry. They were quiet sobs that shook her whole body, her tears soaking into my bare skin. She pressed her face against my chest and wept, and something inside me cracked open.
“It’s going to be okay,” I murmured.
The words felt clumsy in my mouth. I wasn’t good at comfort or reassurance or any of the soft things people needed.
But I tried anyway. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
Cassidy cried harder while I held her tighter.
My heart beat fierce and protective against my ribs. This stranger had become something precious in the span of an hour.
I wanted to fix everything for her. Wanted to take away her pain and rebuild her house with my own hands. Then I’d hunt down whoever Abeline was and make sure they never hurt her again.
The intensity of the feeling should have scared me, but it didn’t.
It felt right.
Then, as we climbed higher, a different feeling shot through me, cold and sharp.
The telescope.
It was still on my back deck, pointed down at the valley straight at her house. If Cassidy saw it, she’d know I’d been watching her.
My stomach clenched. I couldn’t let her see it.
But it was dark and she wouldn’t go out on the back deck tonight. I’d have time to move it and change the angle before morning. She’d never have to know.
I held her closer and kept climbing up through the woods, listening for the sound of a bear or mountain lion… even a pack of coyotes. But the night was silent; the critters of the woods scared off by the fire.