Felix
Sweat coats my face and makes my shirt stick to my chest and back.
I need a shower.
But first I need to do what I’ve put off doing since I came outside this morning.
Call Uncle Granger.
I don’t have much time left to do it either. Above me the clouds are heavy with snow, and the wind picked up from a light leaf tickling breeze this morning to the fast branch snapping gusts whipping around me now.
I’ve lived here long enough to know when a storm is imminent. We’ve probably got another half an hour before it’s on us, maybe less, and I want to make sure we have enough wood for a few days before I stop.
I glance into the shed, at the pile of split logs, and debate moving more of them to the porch for only a second before I curse under my breath.
I’m procrastinating and I know it.
I’m not looking forward to calling my uncle because he’s going to have questions and I don’t want to answer any of them. Most of the ones I think he’ll ask are ones I don’t know the answers to anyway.
Blowing out a breath, I reach up and rip the tie from my hair only to have the wind lash the long strands across my face.
“Fuck.”
Gathering it back up, I swirl it into a bun and secure it with the elastic again. I’m just lowering my hands when the phone in my back pocket vibrates. Fishing it out, I turn the screen toward me and see the name of the man I need to call. Not that I expect anyone else to be calling me.
Hell, I don’t think anyone other than Uncle Granger even has my number.
Pushing out another harsh breath, I turn around and sit my ass on the woodblock as I hit answer and bring the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“Everything all right up there?”
My spine straightens, my eyes darting around the clearing. “Yeah. Why?”
“Once this storm gets going, we’ll be cut off for a few days. Wanted to check you didn’t need anything before it’s too late.”
“I’m good. Just finished splitting some logs.”
“Need more?”
“No.”
Neither of us speaks for a good half a minute before he says, “Felix,” in a low grumble I know well.
My uncle has made a study of all my moods since the accident.
He knows what every one of my silences means and I’m not surprised he’s picked up on my pensive mood.
But I can’t let his concern derail the reason I wanted to call him even if he did reach out before I could. “Do you still have my truck?”
“Yeah.” I can hear the caution in his voice. “I told you I wouldn’t sell it until you asked me to.”
“Does it work?” Riley will need transportation when she leaves, she may as well get use out of it. I have no intention of driving on a road again.
“Of course. No point keeping it if it’s not running.” Ever practical, I should have known Uncle Granger wouldn’t just hold on to it for me—he’d take care of it.
“After the weather clears, can you bring it over?”
“Sure.” I hear him pull in a breath, imagine him bracing for the answer to the question he’s about to ask. “You planning on driving somewhere?”
“No.” My reply is short. Sharp. And I drag in my own deep breath before continuing. “A friend needs it.”
Laughter rumbles in my ear. “Okay, who is this and what have you done with my nephew?”
“Funny.” In spite of myself, I smile.
“No. Seriously, Felix, you don’t have friends. You have online acquaintances you’ve never met in person, but friends? Nope. None of those since high school.”
“What do you know about Riley Rose?” I change the subject even though I know it gives away who I want the truck for. “She lived in Winter Lake with her aunt.”
“Name sounds familiar but I can’t recall—”
“Her aunt’s name is Bethany. Or was, she died a few weeks ago.”
“Bethany Sanders?”
“I’m not sure. Riley has lived with her since she was a toddler.”
“Oh, yeah, I think I know who you’re talking about. Her parents died in a freak accident on the mountain when she was no more than a baby.”
“Maybe.”
“Why are you asking about her?”
I’ve never lied to my uncle and while I want to because I’m worried he’ll head over here or ask how she came to be here, I can’t keep her presence a secret. “She here. With me.”
The silence over the line is so complete I pull the phone away from my ear to check we haven’t lost connection.
Bringing it back, I explain, “Bethany’s son, Warren, dropped her off here yesterday afternoon.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
Uncle Granger knows how much I hate visitors and before he goes off half-cocked, I rush out, “I knew she was coming.”
“You knew…” I can easily imagine the exasperated, confused look on his face as he shakes his head. This isn’t the first time I’ve shocked him with my actions, although I haven’t done much in recent years.
“It’s a long story,” I continue. “One I don’t want to get into now.”
“Do you want me to come get you? Get her?”
“No, I’m okay. We’re okay.”
“I can be there in ten. Back here in twenty.”
“No need. But thanks.”
“Will you tell me what’s going on?”
“Soon. When this storm moves on, bring the truck over and we’ll tell you everything.” I need to sort things out with Riley before I tell him anything else. We both expected her to stay, sure we had different ideas of what that stay would be like, but the outcome was the same. Riley living with me.
“I’m going to worry until then.”
“I’ll check in morning and night.”
“Make sure you do.”
“Talk late—”
“Wait! What did you want to know about Riley?”
“Anything. Everything. Something doesn’t feel right. About her situation. Warren didn’t even get out of the car to help Riley with her things—”
“Her things?”
“Yeah.” I blow out a breath and give up on keeping the reason for Riley’s arrival from him. “I met her on a website for people looking for a partner.”
“A dating site?”
“No. A life partner. Doesn’t matter, that’s not what’s important.”
“I think it’s the most important. Since when do you want a partner?” There’s shock and disbelief in his voice.
“A few months. We can talk about that later. The thing is, Riley didn’t put her information on the site. We’re both pretty sure Warren did. He evicted her from her aunt’s house because now that she’s dead, he owns it.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Of course he does. Now his mother is dead, he inherits it.”
“He can’t. His mother didn’t own that house.”
“Then who does?”
“Riley.”
“What?”
“Riley owns the house. It was left to her, along with a large trust fund by her parents.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure as I can be. I can give a few people a call to check, but if the Riley you’re talking about is the one I’m thinking of, and how many Rileys living with their great aunt Bethany can there be in Winter Lake? Riley Rose was the sole heir to a large estate that included the house in Winter Lake.”
“So this Warren guy has no right to kick her out of the house?”
“Not if we’re talking about the same person.”
My gaze bounces to the back of the cabin. “He put all her stuff in trash bags and dropped her and them off like they were trash.”
“Sounds like you need to put your skills to work outside of your job.”
“I’ve never done that. I’m not supposed to do that.”
“A lot of what you need to look for should be public knowledge.”
“Hmm…maybe.”
I’m cursing myself for not digging deeper into Riley when I first found her profile on Get Hitched.
Then again, what would have happened to her if I hadn’t sent that first message?
Warren could have made a deal with anyone.
She could be trapped with some sicko, made to marry him, and have no way of getting out of the situation.
“I can hear your brain spinning. Or is it the wind? Get inside before the snow starts. We’ll talk more in a few days.”
“Okay, see you then.”
“Be safe.”
“You too.”
Lowering the phone, I end the call and wonder whether I should tell Riley what I’ve learned or wait until I find out more. She deserves to know the house is hers. And unless her aunt and Warren have spent all her money, she’s got resources to do whatever she wants.
I should be happy for her. She has the means to support herself. Leave here. Except the ache in my chest and churning in my belly says I’m not.