Chapter 8 Trish
TRISH
It’s been two days since Joseph found me and took me in, and in those two days, the knot of anxiety I’ve carried around for so long has almost eased entirely.
It’s easy to be here. Joseph left this morning for a club meeting and said he’d be home after lunch.
I’ve spent the morning wandering the trails near his cabin with Rose strapped to my front in the sling he bought me and bear spray in one hand. Rose had her little face turned up to the sunlight streaming through the trees, as in awe of this place as I am.
She’s sleeping now in the travel crib we set up in the corner of the bedroom while I clean the kitchen. It’s the least I can do for the man who has taken me in, cooked me meals, and bought supplies for my baby.
He must have lived here on his own for a long time, and while the cabin appears tidy, I doubt it’s ever had a deep clean.
I’ve pulled out all the supplies from the cupboard below the sink and I’m on my hands and knees with bright yellow cleaning gloves on.
There’s a thick layer of grease, and my cloth leaves a clear path as I run through it.
I sigh in satisfaction and wash the cloth out in the bucket of soapy water.
Another few swipes and I’ve got the bottom of the cupboard back to a fresh white.
I’m about to start on the cupboard door when the sound of tires crunching on gravel makes me start.
Joseph took his motorbike today, and this is definitely a car engine. My heart jumps into my throat, and I can’t breathe.
How has Ian found me already?
I peer out from over the kitchen counter, and there’s a huge car parked out the front of the house. It’s some kind of classic old car with side wings. Not the type of car you find on the side of a mountain, but it’s not Ian’s beat up little Honda either.
A woman steps out of the passenger seat and she’s as classic looking as the car, in a 1950s style dress with curves to match and her hair pinned up in a red scarf.
She pulls a bag out of the back and marches to the front door and knocks.
I’m frozen down on my knees, peering over the kitchen counter, not sure if I should answer it or not. I’ve got no idea who this strange woman is.
She shields her eyes and peers in as she knocks on the door.
“Hey,” she calls. “I’m a friend of Lone Star. I’ve got baby clothes you can have.”
At that moment Rose wakes up with a cry, and there’s no point in pretending we’re not here. I pop up from behind the kitchen counter and pull my gloves off.
“Just a minute.”
I get Rose up before opening the door a crack.
The woman smiles when she sees Rose. “She’s adorable.”
Her eyes light up, and Rose smiles right back at her. “My little one’s sleeping in the car; she’ll be up soon.”
I peer past her to where the car door hangs open, and there’s the shape of a baby seat bundled up with a blanket.
“I’m Danni,” the woman says. “My husband, Colter, is in the club. Thought you might need some baby things and a bit of company.”
I like the woman instantly. She’s got a friendly air about her. I’m about to invite her in when there’s a cry from the car.
“Ah.” She pauses. “Bettie’s awake. It’s always the same as soon as the car stops.”
She retrieves her baby from the car and jostles her on her hip, soothing the tears.
“You mind if we come in for a bit? She needs a feed.”
I make a bottle for Rose while Danni feeds Bettie. They’re only a few months apart, and I chat easily with Danni, sharing motherhood stories and baby tips. It’s good to talk with another first time mom, and to meet one of Joseph’s, or Lone Star as everyone seems to call him, friends.
While I pour Danni a coffee, I work up the courage to ask what I really want to know.
“What are the MC like?”
You hear bad stories about motorcycle clubs and what they’re into, and I’ve only got Joseph’s word to go on.
Danni nods knowingly. “They’re good guys. They’re not like the MCs you see on the TV.”
She tells me about how her and Colter, known as Vintage, met and how the MC helped her set up her gallery and studio.
“It’s like a family here. They’ll do anything to help their own and protect them.”
She eyes me intently, and I wonder how much Joseph has shared about my situation.
“He’s a good guy, Lone Star. They call him that because he’s always been a loner, but the star part is because he’s loyal and true. You become his old lady, and he’ll defend you to the ends of the earth.”
I look down at her words, because I’m embarrassed it’s that obvious what I’m thinking. That I want to stay here, that I want to hitch myself to his star and never let go.
“I’ve only known him for two days,” I whisper, “but I don’t want to leave.” It feels good to confess it, to say it out loud.
Danni chuckles.
“The same thing happened to me. There’s something about this mountain and the men on it. They both have a way of getting to your heart and not letting go.”
Rose cries and Bettie wails in sympathy and we scoop them up, back to motherhood duties. Danni slings her baby bag over her shoulder as she holds Bettie on the other hip.
“I hope you stick around, Trish,” she says before leaving. “I don’t know your situation, but whatever it is, the club has your back.”
As I watch her pull away in her beautiful but impractical car, the silence of the cabin settles around me.
I could get used to life here, to the peaceful quiet of the forest. And there’s something else I’m feeling: a longing in my heart, an ache in my body. Joseph’s been gone for half of the day, and I miss him. There’s no denying it. I’m falling for the big, silent mountain man.