Chapter 8 Willow
WILLOW
Tall pines line the road that winds through the mountains, their tops so high they seem to be almost touching.
We drive in silence as I try to process the events of the last few hours. It’s not even midday, but so much has changed.
This morning, I felt my only option was to run. Now, I have Hudson running with me, protecting me.
I peek over at him to see him staring at the road ahead. His clean-shaven, chiseled jaw twitches, and he turns to glance at me.
“Are you okay?” There’s real concern in his expression, no longer the harsh taskmaster I’ve known him as for the past few days.
“Yeah.” I let out a long breath. “I will be.”
I still don’t know why he’s here, why he walked out of the center to help me. I’m just grateful he did. I move to grab my phone to check my email before remembering I don’t have it. So instead, I wipe my hands on my thighs.
“You been into the mountains before?” Hudson asks.
I glance at the scenery surrounding us. The road has opened up to a mountain vista of rugged peaks and evergreen trees, so different from the concrete and grayness I’m used to.
“Never. I’m from the city.”
“Charlotte.” He names the city I grew up in, the city where, until recently, I lived in a rented apartment above a vape shop.
“How do you know so much about me?”
He flicks me a glance that makes my insides flutter.
“It’s my job to know.”
“As an ex-Navy Seal?”
“As a concerned citizen.” He keeps looking straight ahead, focused on the road. “I wanted to know who was coming to my town.”
He doesn’t say the rest; he doesn’t have to. In his mind, I’m still an offender. I broke the law, and that’s all that matters.
I shift in my seat so I’m angled toward the passenger window. It was stupid of me to think otherwise. I broke the law, and for some people, that will be all they see.
We drive in silence for another hour as the road winds deeper into the mountains. Eventually, we take a turn onto a narrow gravel road, and a few minutes later, the road ends in a clearing. Hudson stops the pickup, and I peer out the window at the wooden cabin in front of us.
It’s nestled among tall pine trees, and the mountains are visible through a clearing behind. Logs are woven together into a classic A-frame shape, and a deck runs around the perimeter. It looks more like a romantic getaway than a safe house.
“This is the safe house?”
Hudson checks his GPS. “This is the place.”
He slides out of the car, and I follow. My boots crunch over dead leaves and an icy crust that’s formed over a puddle. The air’s cooler up here, coming straight off the snow-capped mountains, and I pull my jacket around myself for warmth.
“I hope there’s a fire.”
The wood creaks as we go up the stairs to the narrow deck. A single chair sits outside, heavy with leaves and cobwebs. The place looks as if it’s been vacant for months.
After Hudson unlocks the door, I follow him inside to see it’s a one-room cabin with a ladder leading to a loft floor.
A fireplace sits against one wall with a shag pile rug before it.
A wooden coffee table and loveseat fill the living room space.
A kitchenette is to the left, and a small table and two chairs are under the loft.
I drop my bag on the floor as I look around the small but cozy space. Everything has a layer of dust and needs a good shake out, but it’s cute.
Hudson strides through the cabin like a restless hound. He opens the cupboard in the kitchen, checks the locks on the windows, and opens the only other door, which is tucked away under the loft.
“Bathroom,” he lets me know.
I follow him around, taking in our new surroundings.
“Where do we sleep?”
Hudson pauses in the middle of the room and glances up at the loft. “Up there, I guess.”
He climbs up the ladder, and I wait with one hand on the rung, trying not to notice how good his ass looks from this angle.
Once he’s up, I follow, and when I reach the top, my breath catches in my throat. There’s a single round window by the bed that looks out over the valley with the snow-capped mountain in the distance.
“This place is stunning.”
My gaze goes to Hudson, but he’s looking at the bed and scratching the back of his neck. Which is when I realize the problem.
“There’s only one bed.”
And what a bed it is! It’s carved out of mahogany wood and polished to a shine. On the headboard are leaf patterns carved in intricate designs. How a bed this beautiful ended up in a cabin like this I don’t know.
“I’ll take the couch,” Hudson says.
“You’re not going to fit on that thing.” The thought of Hudson trying to squeeze his bulk onto the loveseat makes me chuckle. “I’m smaller. I’ll take the couch.”
He shakes his head. “There is no way I’m sleeping in a comfy bed while you’re on the couch. Not happening.”
He folds his arms over her chest, and my gaze darts to his muscular arms. I drag my eyes away, but by the way he’s smirking at me, I think he noticed.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says in a tone that commands no argument. “I’ve slept in worse places. I’ll be fine.”
His statement is a reminder of his military life.
He must have been on missions in war zones, and now here he is babysitting me.
It can’t be easy for him, and the fact that he’s willing to give up his own comfort and sleep on the floor for someone he barely knows tells me oodles about his character.
He may be an uptight drill sergeant, but he’s got integrity, and I admire that.
“Thank you.”
He huffs as if it’s no big deal, then heads down the ladder.
I stay for a moment, looking out at the view. A cobweb sits at the base of the window. If this is going to be my home for a few days, the first thing it needs is a good clean, and thankfully, we stopped at a convenience store on the way here to pick up some supplies, including cleaning products.
While I clean, Hudson hooks up a generator and gets the fridge humming.
As I finish wiping down the last surface, I hear a scraping sound from the roof and go out to the front deck, where I spot a ladder propped up against the roof. Looking up, I catch a glimpse of Hudson’s boot.
“You need a hand up there?”
“I’m all good,” he calls down.
The deck wraps around the cabin, and I walk around to the far side of it, where it opens out to the valley. To the left is a woodshed with a thick stack of logs.
Next to the log shed is a structure made of corrugated iron sheets standing on their sides and wrapped around in a circle. A metal ladder leads up to it, and it’s covered by thick material.
“What’s that?” I ask, but Hudson doesn’t hear me.
I walk over and put my boot on the ladder; it’s only two rungs.
The cover is secured with a cord wrapped around a fixture, and I undo it to peer inside.
The corrugated iron hides the hard plastic casing of a small pool filled with water.
A metal ladder leads into the pool, and there’s plastic seating around the edges.
A homemade hot tub. It’s filled with water, and the cover has kept the leaves off it.
“There’s a hot tub!”
Hudson’s face appears over the edge of the roof. “Yeah, I noticed that. I can get it running if you want.”
Do I want to sit in a hot tub on a mountaintop with a view to die for?
“Hell yeah.”
He grins at me, but then his expression turns serious. “Let me get this satellite dish attached first.”
“Is that so you can watch a game?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “It’s so you can access your email.”
The smile slides off my face as the reminder hits. I’m not here for a getaway with a hot man. There are people looking for me, and my brother could be in danger.
I appreciate Hudson all the more for getting on the roof and hooking up the satellite. He’s thinking about my needs in the situation, and once again, I find myself mumbling a thank you to the man who seems to know what I need without having to ask.