Chapter 8
Lana
The gas stove clicked several times before the flame caught. And when it did, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding until the familiar blue fire appeared beneath the kettle. One blessing of gas appliances during power outages.
“What do you think?” I whispered, leaning against the counter to face Caleb. His face was drawn with pain, the lines around his mouth deeper than they’d been this morning.
“About our unexpected guest?” He kept his voice low, glancing toward the living room where Julia huddled by the fire. “I’m not sure yet.”
I pulled three mugs from the cabinet and set them on the counter with more force than necessary. “Convenient timing, isn’t it? Right after we find a box of potential treasure maps?”
“Very.” Caleb shifted his weight, wincing slightly. “But her hypothermia isn’t fake. No one could manufacture those symptoms.”
“True.” I opened the tea canister, selecting chamomile for Julia to calm her and Earl Grey for Caleb and me. We needed to stay alert. “But that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t have pushed her car off the road, knowing she’d seek shelter here.”
Caleb’s eyebrows rose, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “Actually, that’s not something I’d considered. You’d make a decent operative.”
“I watch a lot of crime shows.” The lie slipped out easily. I wasn’t ready to share why I could think like someone who’d set up an elaborate trap. Some stories were better left untold.
The kettle began to whistle, and I lifted it off the flame. Steam rose between us as I poured hot water over the tea bags, the familiar scent of Bergamot filling the kitchen.
“We keep the ammunition box hidden,” Caleb said decisively. “And we take shifts sleeping tonight. I don’t care how innocent she seems.”
I nodded, adding honey to Julia’s tea. “I’ll take first watch. You need to rest that leg.”
“Lana—”
“Don’t argue.” I fixed him with a firm stare. “You pushed it too hard today. I can see it in your face.” I walked over to the fridge and took the bottle of pain meds down. “As a matter of fact, take two of these, now,” I said, handing them to him.
He opened his mouth as if to protest, then closed it again, conceding with a slight nod, and held out his hand. “But when I go to bed, wake me in four hours. No heroics.” He popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them dry.
“No heroics,” I agreed, though I had every intention of letting him sleep longer. His body needed rest to heal, and I’d gone without sleep plenty of times before.
I arranged the mugs on a tray, adding a plate of cookies I’d found in the pantry. “Ready to play gracious hosts to our maybe-not-so-random guest?”
Caleb’s mouth quirked into a half-smile that did strange things to my pulse. “After you.”
Back in the living room, Julia had curled into the corner of the couch, her eyes drooping with exhaustion, with Scout curled to her side.
She straightened when she saw us, attempting a smile that didn’t quite hide her discomfort.
“He’s a sweet boy,” she nodded towards the dog that didn’t move an inch.
“He really is. Tea,” I announced, setting the tray on the coffee table. “And cookies. They’re store-bought, but they’ll do in a pinch.”
“Thank you,” Julia said, reaching for the mug I offered her. Her hands still trembled slightly as she wrapped them around the warm ceramic. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
I sat in the armchair opposite her, studying her over the rim of my own mug. She seemed genuine—the fear in her eyes when we’d found her, the way her body still occasionally shuddered with residual cold. But then the best liars were those who believed their own stories.
“How long have you been a vet tech?” I asked, keeping my tone conversational.
“Three years,” she replied, taking a careful sip of her tea. “I worked at a clinic in Colchester, but they’re downsizing, so...” She shrugged. “Time to move on.”
“Bad luck with the storm,” Caleb commented, lowering himself onto the couch at a careful distance from Julia.
“Yeah.” She looked toward the window, where snow continued to batter the glass. “My parents warned me to wait, but I was worried about missing the interview.” A rueful smile crossed her face. “Should have listened to them.”
“Parents usually know best,” I said, watching her reaction.
“Mine certainly think they do.” She laughed softly. “They’ll be frantic when they can’t reach me. My mom still treats me like I’m sixteen sometimes.”
The details felt authentic—specific enough to be true, but vague.
Scout jumped off the couch and positioned himself halfway between Julia and us.
“So,” she said after a moment, “what about you two? Are you... together?”
The question caught me off guard. I glanced at Caleb, finding him already looking at me, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Ten years strong,” Caleb said before I could answer. “She won my heart at the county fair.”
I had to turn away to look at the fireplace as I was sure to burst out laughing at his sincerity.
“Oh.” Julia nodded, though something in her expression suggested she didn’t quite believe him. “Well, it’s nice of you to take me in. Especially with your injury,” she added, nodding toward Caleb’s leg.
“Hunting accident,” he said smoothly, the lie we’d agreed upon. “Bad timing on my part.”
“Does it hurt much?” she asked, her interest seeming genuine.
“Only when I breathe,” he replied with a wry smile.
The conversation drifted into safer territory after that—the weather, local landmarks, Julia’s experience with animals.
I let Caleb take the lead, watching instead of participating.
He was good—asking questions that seemed innocent but were actually probing, establishing rapport while revealing little about us.
As the fire crackled and the wind howled outside, Julia’s responses grew slower, her eyelids heavier. Finally, her head nodded forward, jerking back up as she fought sleep.
“You should rest,” I said, setting my empty mug aside. “You’ve been through a lot today.”
“I don’t want to impose,” she protested weakly.
“You’re not.” I stood, gathering the mugs. “I’ll make up the couch for you.”
The sleeping arrangements would keep Julia isolated from both the ammunition box (hidden in Ella’s heating vent) and the back bedrooms where Caleb and I could talk privately.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her exhaustion finally winning out. “Just for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll figure something out...”
Within minutes, I’d transformed the couch into a makeshift bed, complete with extra blankets and a pillow. She was asleep almost before her head hit the cushion, her breathing deep and even.
I motioned for Caleb to follow me down the hallway, well out of earshot.
“She seems legitimate,” he said quietly when we reached Ella’s bedroom.
“Maybe too legitimate,” I countered, leaning against the doorframe. “Perfect story, perfect timing.”
“You’re suspicious of everyone, aren’t you?” There was no judgment in his voice, just curiosity.
“Aren’t you?” I raised an eyebrow. “In your line of work?”
“Former line of work,” he corrected, but nodded. “And yes. It’s kept me alive more than once.”
A silence fell between us, comfortable despite the tension of the situation. Outside, the storm continued its assault, rattling the windows and moaning through the eaves.
“You should get some sleep,” I said finally. “I’ll take first watch as we agreed.”
“Wake me in four hours,” he reminded me, his eyes serious. “I mean it, Lana.”
“I will,” I lied, already knowing I’d let him sleep through the night if possible. His body needed rest to heal properly.
He studied my face for a moment, as if trying to read my thoughts. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said finally, his voice softer than before.
“I’m an excellent liar,” I corrected him with a small smile. “Just not with you, apparently.”
Something shifted in his expression then—a warmth that hadn’t been there before, a recognition that made my heart beat a little faster.
“Goodnight, Lana,” he said, his voice rough around the edges.
“Goodnight, Caleb.”
I waited until he’d closed the bedroom door before moving back toward the living room. Julia was still sound asleep on the couch, Scout curled on the floor nearby, his ears perking up as I approached.
“Keep an eye on her,” I whispered to the dog, scratching his head.