5. Emma
EMMA
Once we arrive back at the outbuilding, Brody insists I get some rest. It’s still only the afternoon, but I’m exhausted.
The trip to the grocery store didn’t help—it was overwhelming, being surrounded by so many strangers at once—but Brody made it all okay.
He made me feel safe and threw me yet another lifeline when I needed it most. Tomorrow, I’m going to give it my all and work hard for him.
I’ll do everything I can to show how grateful I am. But first, I need some sleep.
Brody brings me clean sheets, spare blankets, and pillows before heading back to his own cabin.
The bedding smells like him—warm spice and fresh pine—and I eagerly breathe in his scent as I curl up on the mattress.
It’s a million times more comfortable than sleeping in the car, and my limbs turn heavy, sleep pulling me under immediately.
When I wake up, it’s dark outside. According to the alarm clock Brody bought me from the store earlier, it’s three in the morning, and I groan as I stretch out my limbs.
I slept for nearly twelve hours, but it’s too early to wake up, so I roll onto my side and try to doze off for another hour or two.
But my mind is wide awake, thoughts rushing through my head.
Thoughts of Brody.
My heart flutters as I think of him in his cabin, a few hundred yards through the trees.
If it weren’t for him, I’d be spending another night in the car, contorted into an uncomfortable position and struggling to sleep.
I wouldn’t have a job. I wouldn’t have eaten.
It’s scary how desperate my situation would be right now if I hadn’t met a gentle giant in the forest. But instead, I feel safer and happier than I’ve felt in a long time.
Scourfield has never felt so far away.
I know it’s risky, putting so much faith in someone I just met.
But Brody is a good man. I can feel it. He wants to protect me, and under his gruff exterior, I know he cares about my wellbeing.
Heck, he cares far more than I deserve. There’s so much I haven’t told him—so many secrets I’m keeping.
But he never pushes me to talk. All he’s done since we met is help me, and I can’t wait until the day I can pay him back.
Thinking about him does little to help me sleep.
I’m more awake than ever as I remember the moment I first saw Brody emerging from the trees, all muscles and scowls.
I push myself off the mattress, heading for the window and pressing my forehead against the cool glass, looking toward Brody’s cabin.
With a jolt, I spy my green Honda parked nearby, and I feel another wave of gratitude to Brody.
He took my car keys before I went to sleep, promising to fill up the tank so he could drive it back here.
My eyes flit back to his cabin, and I imagine him inside, his permanent scowl smoothed out by sleep.
Part of me wishes I was in there too, curled up beside him, his strong arms tight around my body.
Something throbs deep inside me at the thought of being close to him.
Feeling him against me…skin on skin. Heat rushes between my legs, and I shiver at the unfamiliar longing, my breath coming fast.
The lights flicker on inside Brody’s cabin and I let out a gasp. For one crazy second, I wonder if he somehow heard my thoughts. A giant shadow appears at the window, moving around behind the curtains, pacing back and forth. Clearly Brody is struggling to sleep too.
I wonder what he’s thinking about.
I watch him eagerly, but soon enough, the pacing stops and Brody’s cabin goes dark once more.
After watching for a few more minutes, the lights are still stubbornly off, and I finally step back from the window.
But just as I’m about to lie back down, I see the glint of headlights somewhere in the trees.
Who the heck is driving around out here at this time of night?
Unease settles in my gut as I peer at the vehicle, watching it move closer. It looks like a truck. In the moonlight, I catch a flash of red paint before the truck is swallowed up by the trees and vanishes. I’m clutching the windowsill so tight it hurts.
A red truck.
Just like the one in Scourfield…
But before I can let my thoughts spiral, I take a deep breath and force myself to be reasonable.
There’s nothing unusual about a red truck.
It was probably just a mountain man making a late-night trip somewhere.
And anyway, it’s dark—I only saw a glimpse.
Nobody from Scourfield can find me out here.
If anybody had followed me, they would have confronted me by now.
“You’re safe,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. “Everything is okay.”
I’m still shaken up as I climb back onto the mattress, but knowing Brody is just next door calms me. With him around, it feels like nothing can touch me, and soon enough, I’m fast asleep again, dreaming of the mountain man in the next cabin.
“That’s it. Hold it steady…watch your fingers.”
I do as Brody says, holding the two pieces of wood together while he drives a nail through them. It’s late morning, and we’re in my room, building a bedframe from pieces of oak that Brody cut himself. He slots two more pieces into place, then straightens up to look at our handiwork.
“Looking good,” he says, running a hand over his silver-streaked beard. “We’re nearly done.”
He catches my eye as he reaches for another piece of wood, and I swallow hard.
I swear he’s even more handsome than yesterday.
“You okay?” he asks. “Want to take a break?”
I can’t help but smile. He must have asked me that ten times since he arrived this morning.
He came over first thing to bring me breakfast—pancakes, muffins, and a flask of coffee—as well as a stack of clean clothes for me to wear, borrowed from his sister who lives nearby.
I’ve barely lifted a finger in the hours since he got here.
Every time I try to help, he insists he’s got it and suggests I take a break.
“No, I’m fine,” I tell him. “I just feel a bit useless. You’re paying me to help you, and all I’ve done this morning is hold stuff in place while you work hard.”
Brody contemplates me for a moment, then hands me the hammer.
I wasn’t allowed to use tools in Scourfield, and the weight is unfamiliar in my hands.
I grip it tight, trying to hold it the same way Brody did, and I feel him shift behind me, moving closer.
A moment later, his giant hand wraps around mine, sliding it down the handle of the hammer.
“Hold it here,” he murmurs, his voice making me shiver. “Keep your wrist relaxed.”
He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body, hot against my back. I want to melt against him—let his powerful arms envelop me—but I force myself to focus.
“See that nail?” Brody points. “It’s not in all the way.”
Gingerly, I tap the protruding nail with the hammer. Then again.
“Harder. It won’t break.”
This time, I hit the nail with more force, hammering it all the way into the wood.
“Perfect,” Brody says. “You’re a natural.”
I turn around to face him with a smile, my heart stuttering when I see how close we’re standing. Brody towers over me, his eyes like a summer sky, burning into me with an intensity that steals my breath away.
Oh, God…
I want him. My desire runs bone-deep, flooding through my veins like lava as I stare into his ruggedly handsome face.
The world seems to melt away, dissolving to nothing as Brody’s gaze flits down to my mouth.
He leans toward me slightly, the scent of fresh pine enveloping me as he moves closer, closer…
Knock knock.
I stagger backward, instantly on alert as I look toward the front door. Someone is knocking.
Did he find me?
Is my father on the other side of the door?
I struggle to breathe, my lungs squeezing tight. Brody notices my panic and rests a firm hand on my shoulder, his brows knitted with determination.
“You’re okay,” he tells me. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I nod, but as he heads toward the living room, I duck behind the bedroom door, keeping out of sight. My heart lurches unpleasantly as I hear Brody’s footsteps reach the front door. He wrenches it open, and the bang makes me jump. I clamp my hand over my mouth, trying to keep my breathing silent.
I’m not going back.
Father can’t make me.
I’ll kick, scream, and fight if I have to…
Then Brody speaks.
“Oh. Tanner. Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
My body sags, and I let out a shuddering groan of relief.
Brody mentioned Tanner yesterday—he’s the mountain man who’s been helping renovate the cabin.
Straightening up, I force my trembling legs to carry me into the living room.
The man on the doorstep is a giant—even taller than Brody—but he gives me a friendly nod when he sees me.
Everything’s okay.
Father isn’t here.
But it’s a long time before I stop shaking.