4. Hunter
Chapter four
Hunter
It takes two days for the sweet girl next door to take me up on my offer.
Two days of patiently waiting between ordering a delivery of wood to give her enough heat to last for more than a week and going through those cookies like each one is gold.
This much sugar can't possibly be good for my health, but I'll be damned if I let a single one go to waste.
When I hear that polite knock on my front door, I'm dropping everything to see what she needs.
She's got a far better-fitting coat on today. She must've made her way down to buy it after realizing the one she brought wasn't going to cut it. The faux fur around her hood brushes against flushed cheeks as her gloved fingers tangle together.
"Hey!" Surprisingly perkier today than before, she blinds me with her smile. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Not at all." Talk about an understatement. If I weren't leaning against my doorframe, the pull this woman has on me would have me already one foot out of the door. "What can I do for you, sweet girl?"
The pet name slips out before I can stop it, rolling off my tongue with effortless familiarity. Juniper visibly reacts, squirming under the weight of it. My eyes track down to her legs, wrapped in leggings far too thin to ward off this biting cold as they graze each other.
"Boxes," she blurts, the pink on her cheeks spreading to her ears. "I've, um, got a few of them full of Gregory's clothes. I wanted to donate them, but my car—"
"Yeah." Already nodding my head, knowing I have no intention of saying no, I turn away to collect my coat. Feeling her eyes follow, I shove my feet into my boots, trying not to waste a precious second. "We can load everything in the back. Don't want you sliding off the road, anyway."
It's her smile of appreciation that makes me almost stumble on my feet as I snatch my keys from the hook.
Making my way out of my cabin, she leads me over to hers. Allowing me to step in, I can't help but hesitate at the entrance.
Juniper notices. Her smile softens in what appears to be pity. Does she know? "You don't have to come in if it's too hard. I can drag them all up front."
Clearing my throat, I force one foot in front of the other, joining her. "It's fine. It's just strange being in here without feeling..."
I struggle to find the right word.
Hell, just looking at the rug in front of the couch makes me uncomfortable. It's where I found Greg unresponsive, after all.
There's a brush against my fingers, and it's Juniper who's squeezing my hand.
"I get it. I'm still not used to being here." Giving my stiff limbs a jumpstart by pulling me in one direction, we head toward his bedroom.
Boxes are already packed, lining the wall, making the bedroom look as bare as can be. Almost like no one has stayed here to begin with.
"There are collectibles and stuff I planned on taking to a thrift shop. I don't know if they're worth anything, but..." She grimaces at my frown. "You could look through them if you want?"
"You don't want to keep anything?" Dragging my gaze from the boxes to her, I notice her squirm again, but this time, it's in discomfort. "You want to get rid of everything?"
There's a moment of hesitation before she nods. "Hunter... I don't want you to think I'm a bad daughter, but my relationship with my father..."
It's not a good one; I know that much. If it were, I would've met her before he died.
"Complicated?" I offer, and she nods. "I'm not going to judge you. If he left you all of this, it's your choice to decide what to do with it. All I want to do is help when I'm needed."
Her mouth quirks up slightly in appreciation. "I want to give this stuff to someone who'd appreciate it more than I would. Donating it feels like the right answer."
Bending down to stack a couple of boxes, I pick them up with ease. "It's your call. Let's do it."
Between grabbing the boxes and loading them up in my truck, I can't help but notice the state of the cabin. Like his bedroom, there are plenty of belongings packed up, while a few trash bags are hanging about, full enough to be tossed right away.
She's emptying this cabin, leaving nothing behind.
"If you don't mind me asking," I say between loads, "what is your plan for this place?"
She grunts as she adjusts the box in her hands. "I have no need for it, so I figured I'd clear it out and put it on the market. It probably won't sell any time soon because of the weather, but it can't hurt to get the ball rolling now."
It's an approach that's to be expected. Still, realizing that my time with this woman is limited doesn't sit right. It feels like I've barely gotten to know her.
Knowing I've got no right to ask her to stay outright doesn't make it any easier not to let the words form on my tongue. The best I can do is grunt and nod.
I've got the rest of the loading of my truck to think about now.
By the time we're on the road, Juniper is snuggled up comfortably in my passenger seat. It's the strangest thing seeing a woman her size swallowed up by the seat at my side. It's a wonder she didn't ask for help to get into the cab, not that I wouldn't have jumped at the opportunity to help her.
Her attention is on the window next to her. "Does it always look like it's about to snow?"
"During this time of year?" A laugh escapes me. "Yes. Normally, people don't leave their cabins often enough to have to worry about the heavy snowfall."
"Don't tell me that everyone acts like bears, where they get enough supplies to last through the season." When I don't deny her claim, her head tilts to look my way. "Wait, really?"
"Can't speak for my neighbors, but personally, I try to.
It's smart, and if it means I don't have to put myself at risk when it gets bad, then I'm happy to hoard all of my goods.
" It's a practice I've done for the last decade living up here, and I haven't run into any issues.
This is the first week I've been more active during the colder season in a long time.
"Surely, you're used to Montana weather. "
She nods. "In Lincoln Heights, we've got beautiful snow plows and people who shovel sidewalks. I don't think there's ever a time when I feel like I'll be stuck."
Lincoln Heights, huh? So she's been less than an hour away this entire time? I could drive there and back, getting her where she needs to go if the occasion arose.
Stop considering asking her to stick around.
"So you're a city girl then?" Cocking a brow, I'm forced to stifle a smile when she huffs. "Greg only had so much to say about you, you know? You could tell me a little more."
My words seem to have the opposite effect on her as she turns her attention back to the window. Unfortunately, with the state of the path I'm on, I can't afford to look her way to figure out what she could be thinking.
"What did he tell you about me?" Her voice comes so soft, it feels like she's got her fingers around my heart and is twisting it hard.
"Only good things," I reassure. "He always spoke so proudly of your achievements. Every time your social media page got updated with a new photo, he'd show it to me so happily. The man was proud of you, Juniper. He told me you did everything on your own."
Now that I think about it, he'd only ever brought up her bakery.
Sometimes, he'd dredge up old memories paired with his ex-wife, too.
Always good memories. He'd smile every time he brought either of them up, but there was always a sadness lingering behind that curve of his.
I had an idea about his situation, but never pushed by digging deep into his past. Not when he was trying hard to live his life for what time he had left of it.
"He never told me what kind of person you really were," I add, hoping she'll fill in the blanks for me. "I'm interested in finding out what he didn't know."
Her hands curl on her lap as she nods. "It's not his fault he didn't know. I cut him out of my life because..."
"The drinking?" I offer, causing her to turn and look at me with widened eyes.
"He was in rough shape when he moved up here all those years ago.
If it means anything, he came up here to sober up, but decided to stick around after getting to experience the peace that comes with excluding yourself the way we do. "
I'm not the type of person to judge, but I respected him for putting in the effort he had to kick the bad habit. I guess I didn't think it was bad enough for that to be the reason Juniper never visited.
She remains silent for the longest time, sitting on the information I've given her until we reach the base of the mountain. It's only when we reach a red light that I ask her if she's doing alright.
Juniper nods her head, but she lets out a sigh. "It sucks that it took me leaving for him to do something drastic enough to move to a mountain. Makes me wonder how a conversation between us would've played out if I had tried to reach back to him."
"Before you came here, did you ever want to?"
She grimaces and shakes her head. "I didn't even know what he's been up to these last few years. I assumed he hadn't changed and didn't want to get sucked back into his toxic behavior."
Reaching toward her, I pat her thigh. "Don't beat yourself up then. Just know, I don't think he's ever held it against you."
Dragging my fingers away before I accidentally let them linger, I clear my throat in hopes she doesn't feel awkward about the topic and my movement.
Instead of becoming uncomfortable, she gives me the gentlest of smiles. "Thanks, Hunter. Even if I wasn't here for him, I'm glad he had someone during his recovery. He was lucky to have you."
The light turns green, but it takes me a moment to push down on the gas pedal.
"He's not the only one, Juniper." Fighting the urge to keep my mouth shut before I say too much, I don't have the strength this time around. "You've got me too."
I risk a glance her way to see her biting her lip. She's trying to contain something behind that smile. Unsure of what to make of it, I head toward our first destination with more questions than answers, and a problem that is only seemingly growing.
The feelings for her that I can't seem to squash.