Chapter 24
Mabel sat in the dim light of Zane’s living room, trying with all her might not to laugh at Styles in his fuzzy, zippered pajamas. Which would have been more welcome than crying over Zane’s safety. And over Carolina’s sudden presence in his life.
But laughing at Styles’ cuteness would only encourage the little guy, and that should not be happening. It was nearly one in the morning, and Styles had yet to fall asleep.
Mabel’s experience with three-year-olds was limited, and Styles wasn’t your typical three-year-old anyway.
But still. Wasn’t a little guy staying up hours and hours past his bedtime a serious problem?
Why had he not collapsed yet? Mabel certainly felt like collapsing, aside from the buzz of worry over Zane. It was that and her responsibility to take care of this Energizer Bunny named Styles who was keeping her awake.
Not wanting to distract Styles, she sneaked another peak at the community Facebook group to see the updates on the fire. She really needed to take a break from looking for a while. It wasn’t doing good things for her mental health.
A last wish for the safety of the fire crew in her mind—again—she pulled Styles onto her lap after he got up from his makeshift bed on the couch.
“One more story, and then we’ll close our eyes and off to dreamland we’ll go.” Maybe her frequent use of the word “sleep” had been part of the problem. Maybe if she stopped mentioning the end goal, it might happen sooner.
It wasn’t that she minded hanging out with the kid. He was freaking hilarious. But she really was starting to wonder about how he could possibly be okay at this point of the night. She guessed “being too overly tired to sleep” was actually a thing.
“I’ll pick one.” Styles rushed to Zane’s bedroom bookcase and brought out another book. Man, Zane sure had a lot of kids books back there, more than most uncles, she guessed.
She read it to him, the classic, sweet smell of baby shampoo filling her nose. Even a calming bath hadn’t done a thing to his energy level.
“Vacuums suck things up too,” Styles said, pointing to the last page of the book, which contained a painting of an elephant maneuvering things around with the suction of his long snout.
Oh. Crap. Styles was obsessed with vacuums and could spout off many a fact about the various brands and types available.
“Let’s lie down while you tell me, okay?” She tucked him back into his little blankets on one sofa, and then she laid down on hers across from him, making a show of yawning in a grand way, hoping he’d be influenced to yawn as well.
To her surprise, he did. After a liony yawn, he asked, for the tenth time, “Where’s Zane?”
Mabel’s heart did a cold zip up and through the rest of her. That was an excellent question. Where was he? How was he?
And not that she’d be discussing this with Styles, but where were they? She and Zane. And Carolina?
“Zane is working. He’ll be home later.” She focused on making her voice strong and calm.
Styles made some silly faces, and then he pretended to fall asleep. “Zee haw, zee haw.” His fake snore was actually pretty good.
“We’ll bee-tend to be asleep. Let’s trick Zane, Maybe.”
Excellent idea! Fake it ‘til you make it?
“I love it. Watch, I’ll go first.” She stretched her arms high above her head and did another huge yawn, then snuggled into her blanket and pillow, keeping her breathing steady and her eyes closed.
Styles mimicked her, and a couple of minutes stretched on, every second ticking away getting them closer to Styles actually falling asleep and Zane coming home. Hopefully in that order.
Without warning, a key turned in the lock, and Zane came into the room. She popped one eye open for a moment. His face was covered in soot, and the soft flannel clothes he’d worn under his turnouts emanated a thick stench of smoke.
Her body responded to his rugged, raw appearance. Frustration brewed within her. She couldn’t be attracted to him! He reeked—and he’d brought another woman to Topaz Rock.
He pulled off his boots, and she opened both eyes. She gave a small smile but stayed right where she was on the couch. She had to prepare herself before she could talk to him. Or maybe she could leave and postpone the inevitable.
He’s been with another woman. I need to go.
And he needs to stop making so much noise. Styles is asleep!
Pointing across the way at Styles caused Zane to pull up abruptly. He walked quietly across the room.
He sank into the sofa at the other end from her. He pointed to Styles and then gave a big thumbs-up.
Her cheeks burned. Yes, she had finally, finally got the little boy to fall asleep.
“How are you?” Zane silently mouthed to her, his brows knitted together in concern.
She rolled her eyes, and the wall around her heart started forming again. He was asking her that?
Before she could answer, Styles sat up. “Surprise!”
Both Zane and Mabel startled before Zane started to laugh. His laugh was hoarse, though, and the skin under his eyes sagged into dark circles.
“We bee-tended to be asleep!” Styles said.
Zane dropped his head back even more as his laughter took on a deeper tone. “You totally got me.”
Mabel started laughing with him. “Me too.”
Zane dragged himself off the sofa and crawled over to Styles. He ran his hands through Styles’s hair, pressing his nose to his head, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to go shower. You go to sleep for real now, and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
Styles nodded and wrapped his pudgy, dimpled arms around his uncle in a tight squeeze.
Zane glanced at Mabel before heading into the bathroom.
“I can stay until you’re done,” she said, her gaze on the carpet. “Who knows what this one might do while you’re in there.”
He gave a swift nod in thanks and disappeared into his bedroom.
Mabel’s mind was keyed up by the time Zane appeared in her line of vision again, this time smelling like musky pine and wearing a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
She struggled to get up into a seated position. She needed to go home. She wasn’t ready to talk to him about anything. It was going to hurt, and she wasn’t ready.
Relief over his safety gave way to anger. She’d trusted him, kissed him, and he was moving on? This kind of thing was the reason she hadn’t let herself fall for him all this time. She knew he would do this to her.
“You can lie back down again if you’re tired,” he whispered. He checked on Styles who was, blessedly, finally asleep for real.
She stood from the sofa and grabbed her wallet and keys from the side table. “I’m not tired.” Fighting to stay calm, she took a couple of steps toward the front door. “Is the fire out?” she asked, turning halfway around.
He made a low, rumbling noise in his throat, so soft she almost missed it. He must have known she was angry.
Good. Because what he was doing, to both her and Carolina, was wrong. So very wrong, and she wouldn’t be a fool again.
“Mostly,” he whispered. “We’re about ninety percent contained. The county sent more people in to relieve us.” He paused, and she could hear the sound of him scratching his face. “I think I’ll try to get a few hours of sleep and then head back over at first light.”
She reached the door and allowed herself a glance in his direction. “What was the damage like?” Mabel hated even asking, but from what little she’d seen of it from the mountain and from social media posts, it looked like a very big deal.
He blew out a long breath, his eyes looking far into the distance. “Honestly? Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m…pretty beat.”
“I can just get that info from the Facebook group.” She opened the door, a blast of cold Autumn air hitting her, awakening her emotions of anger and fear even more. “Goodnight, Zane.”
Taking a couple of steps toward her, he stopped short, right before he reached the place where the carpet met the tile of the entry. “Wait. There are some things I didn’t explain. I know how things look with Carolina.”
Jealousy at even the way he said her name had Mabel reeling. Blood roared in her ears. She was a cushion used for sewing, where everything all around her was sinking sharp quilter’s pins into her. Everything in her soul hurt.
She held up a palm. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t want to wake up Styles.”
He reached for her, but she dodged away, taking a step out into the night air. “Don’t,” she said.
He reared back, shock and confusion on his face. He blinked and dragged a breath into his smoke-filled lungs and began coughing.
Now was the perfect time to leave since he couldn’t speak to her, lie to her, or make his rejection clear.
She took long strides to her car, not looking back as she got in and drove away. She didn’t pick up her phone as it buzzed with a call and then texts.
She’d unwrapped herself to him so he could see her and know her. And again, he changed. Again, he rejected her.