Chapter 5
Cassidy
I woke to sunlight streaming through the window and the smell of bacon.
For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Then it all came rushing back.
Hall. The wild barbarian who’d stopped my house from completely burning down.
That almost-kiss we’d shared sitting out on his couch.
And him rushing in, wrapping his almost completely naked body around me, hugging me right on this very bed after I’d had the nightmare.
My core throbbed at the memory, wet slickness dampening my panties.
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow. His pillow. Which still smelled like him.
Why did I want this man so badly? I was definitely in trouble.
I found a pair of thick wool socks in his dresser and padded out to the main room wearing my nightgown with his flannel thrown over it, wishing for pants.
Hall was already up. He stood at the stove, his broad back to me, flipping pancakes with surprising dexterity. He’d put on jeans and a henley, though his feet were still bare.
The cabin looked different in daylight. Smaller, somehow. Even cozier.
Sunlight poured through the windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. I could see the mountains through the glass, rolling green peaks stretching toward a brilliant blue sky. It was breathtaking.
“Morning,” he said without turning around. “Coffee’s ready.”
I poured myself a cup and watched him work. His big body moved efficiently in the tiny kitchen as he reached for plates and slid bacon onto them.
“Breakfast is on the deck,” he said, finally turning to face me. His eyes traveled down my body, taking in his unbuttoned shirt slung over me like a robe, with the low neckline of my nightgown peeking out. Something flickered in his expression before he looked away. “If you’re up for it.”
The back deck was small but beautiful, overlooking the valley below. Two mismatched chairs sat side by side, and Hall had set up a small table between them, loaded with pancakes and fresh fruit.
I realized that one of the chairs matched the small kitchen table inside. The one without any chairs around it. His theme of one continued. I was almost surprised he had more than one plate.
He must have dragged the chair out here so there’d be seating for both of us.
It made me wonder what kind of man only had one kitchen chair? And one deck chair?
But the answer was clear, Hall was a man who never expected company.
A telescope sat in one corner of the deck, its scope pointed up to the sky above. I bet he saw some spectacular close-ups of the night sky through it.
I settled into the straight-backed wooden kitchen chair and looked out at the view. The mountains rolled away in every direction, green and misty in the morning light. And there, far below, I could just make out my farmhouse.
Or what was left of it.
From this distance, I couldn’t see the damage. It just looked like a house, sitting peacefully in the valley. But I knew the truth. I knew everything I’d lost last night.
“You can see my house from here,” I said softly.
Hall went still beside me. “Yeah.”
“Is that how you knew about the fire? You saw the flames?”
A pause. Then, “Yeah. I saw.”
I turned to look at him, this quiet mountain man who’d saved my life. “Thank you. I don’t know how to thank you enough. If you hadn’t seen… if you hadn’t come…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I’ll always come,” he said, and the words settled something restless inside me.
We ate in comfortable silence, watching the sun climb higher over the mountains. The food was simple but delicious, and I realized I was starving.
Hall ate methodically, his eyes on the horizon. I studied his profile while he wasn’t looking. He had a slightly crooked nose, and he furrowed his brow when he was thinking.
He was handsome. Really handsome, in a rugged, unpolished way.
It felt like fate, as if the universe had put him on this mountain above my farmhouse, just so he could be there when I needed him.
I knew that was ridiculous. But he was kind and strong and had carried me up a mountain in his arms. And right now all I could think was that this man would fix everything that was wrong in my life.
Even though my house had just burned down throwing my whole world into a tailspin, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Abeline, and the people in it were the farthest they’d ever been from my mind.