Chapter Nineteen
Abby awoke to mostly darkness and a soft, rhythmical sound coming from her right.
She blinked to get her bearings, then turned to find Whit snoring at the small table near the stove.
Abby shifted and groaned at her sore knee as she sat up and draped her legs over the squeaky bed.
Whit’s coat fell onto the floor, and she knelt to pick it up, touched that Whit had shrouded her as she’d slept.
Now she hobbled over to the table and eased it beneath Whit’s head to serve as a pillow.
But the gentle movement disturbed her and she woke.
“Mm, is it morning?” she asked as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.
The candle in the hurricane lamp had a tiny flickering flame burrowed inside it, trying desperately to hang on to life. Abby blew it out and sank into a chair.
“By the looks of it,” Abby said. “I can’t believe I slept that long without waking. I must’ve slept like a rock.”
“You did,” Whit said.
“Why didn’t you come to bed? You could’ve moved me over. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“I wanted to let you sleep. You needed the rest.”
“So did you.” She lightly grazed her arm, disliking the exhausted look on her face. Whit didn’t pull away; she merely eyed her hand and then met her gaze.
“Not as much as you did.”
“Well, I’m rested now,” Abby said, patting her arm. “So, tell me what I can do to help our situation?”
“Whoa there, cowgirl.” Whit stood and stretched. “How’s your knee?”
“It’s not bad.” It still hurt, but she was trying to downplay it. She knew that as soon as Whit saw her try to walk the gig would be up. So she confessed. “It’s still sore.”
“How bad?”
“Pretty bad.”
Whit nodded as if she’d expected as much. “Then you should stay here. I’m going to go find that creek I saw on the map and look for berries.”
Abby didn’t like the idea of staying behind, but she knew it was the wise thing to do.
She would only slow Whit down, and going out in search of a creek and food would most definitely irritate her knee.
The disappointment she felt must’ve been showing on her face, because Whit rested a hand on her shoulder.
“I won’t be long.”
Other concerns came to mind as she looked into her maple syrup-colored irises. “You sure you’ll be okay out there alone?”
Whit squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be okay. Will you?” She focused on the window, as if searching for the culprit of the knocking.
“I’m not going to lie, I’m a little anxious he’ll come back while you’re gone.”
“I’ll leave you the knife. If it’ll make you feel safer.”
“You need that. You’re the one going out alone.”
Whit chewed her lower lip. “Alright. But you keep that door locked. No matter what.”
Abby didn’t agree but she didn’t argue either.
Whit snatched up her coat and slipped into it. Then she grabbed the empty pot and the undershirt Abby had used as a cushion for her knee, along with the spear. “Do you need to relieve yourself? Now’s the time to do it, before I take off.”
Abby slowly followed Whit out the door. She ambled down the steps into the frigid, frosted morning, and went to pee as Whit stood guard on the porch. When Abby returned, she found Whit studying her closely.
“You’re walking a little better,” she said. “But still not good enough for our journey just yet.”
“I wish it would hurry and heal.”
“It will. You just need more rest.” She helped Abby back up the stairs. “I shouldn’t be gone long. An hour or so.”
“Please, be careful.”
“You do the same.”
Abby watched her disappear into the woods and then closed and locked the door.
She added more firewood to the embers in the stove, hoping a flame would catch.
But after monitoring it for a few minutes, she knew she had to do something to help it burn.
She scavenged through the wood pile until she found some dry bark and brush.
She chucked that in the pile of ash and stirred the contents with a stick.
Soon a flame caught and the stove came to life with heat once again.
She closed the door and sat at the table, enjoying the growing warmth.
With the icy temperatures of the mornings, she worried the first snow would come and then soon after that, even more.
Then what would they do? Could she walk through inches of snow to get out?
It didn’t seem likely, considering she could hardly walk as it was.
And even if they were able to leave in the snow to try to make it out, there was no telling what Boyd would do to them while they were on their way.
Would he become violent and try to hurt them physically?
Or would he continue to fuck with them in other ways?
The dooming thoughts plagued her, and her throat grew raw with emotion.
Tears threatened but she shoved them down and wiped angrily at her eyes.
A loud bang startled her. A chill ran up her spine and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. She brushed away more tears and steeled herself as more banging ensued. Whoever it was had bypassed the knocking this time and gone straight for the loud, forceful banging.
“Who’s there?” she called, gripping the table so hard it hurt.
More thumping, this time on the back of the cabin.
The wall shook and the calendar fell to the floor.
The window rattled and she feared it would crack or break altogether.
Though it was small, she still had the fear that the perpetrator would be able to come through to get her. She couldn’t let that happen.
She stood, gritted her teeth, and marched to the door. Before she could think long enough to change her mind, she unlatched the door and flung it open. “I’m not afraid of you, you son of a bitch!”
The banging stopped.
She stood frozen, shaking as she’d done before. Swallowing, she spoke again, more terrified than ever as she imagined the villain making his way around the cabin to get her. “Why don’t you show yourself, huh? Or are you too chicken shit to face me like a man?”
She held fast to the door, gripping it so tightly she could feel the splinters digging into her fingertips.
She waited in silence. An eternity seemed to pass and she felt like she might faint from fear at the slightest of movements.
She stared straight ahead, too afraid to turn to scan the surrounding area.
But there was only quiet. Slowly, she reversed back into the cabin and closed the door.
She locked it and slid down the rear wall and fought sobbing. Eventually, she fell asleep.
Another loud series of noises jolted her awake and she rubbed her face, confused. She pushed herself up as the clamoring continued from the front of the cabin.
A knock sounded at the door and Whit called out. “Abby, it’s me.”
Feeling stiff, she limped over to the door and let her in. Whit took one look at her and her face clouded. “What happened?”
Abby started to shake her head, to deny that anything had occurred, but Whit grasped her shoulders and stared into her with a deadly seriousness. “Abby, what happened?”
“He came again.”
“When?”
“Soon after you left.”
“He’s watching us. Motherfucker.”
Abby didn’t tell her about confronting him. She was realizing now just how stupid it was to do. He could’ve easily attacked her and taken the cabin back for himself. Then where would they be? Up shit’s creek, that’s where.
“You’re safe now. He seems to be gone,” Whit said after taking a look around. She picked up the pot and the wet shirt bundle. “I brought back some cold rocks for your knee, and I managed to find some salmon berries. There aren’t many, but I thought it would be a nice treat for you.”
“They will be, thanks.” She took the pot and Whit carried the shirt full of rocks inside and locked the door. Abby scooted her back to the wall on the bed as Whit placed the cold bundle on her leg.
“Good?”
“Mm-hm.” Abby opened the pot and munched on some berries. “Want some?”
“No, those are for you.” She smiled and sat at the table.
“You’re too good to me, Whit,” Abby said. She did so much for her, going out of her way to help her, and make sure she was okay. It was very kind.
“I’m just doing what’s right.” She started picking at the pile of smelly fish to nibble. Then she got a thick stick to line some pieces of fish on and stuck that carefully in the stove.
“You do more than that and you know it,” Abby said. She shrugged, but Abby prevailed. “I appreciate it, Whit. Truly. You’re a really nice person.”
“Nice,” she said with a chuckle.
“Something wrong with nice?”
“No, just…” She grew quiet.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Abby could tell there was definitely something and she couldn’t let it go. “No, tell me.”
“It’s nothing. Forget it.” She opened the stove door and started fiddling with the fish-lined stick.
“No way. You don’t let me get away with not telling you things. So fess up, woman.”
Whit remained silent.
“Something bothered you about the word nice and I want to know what it was.” Abby changed her position on the bed, and slung her legs over the side. “Otherwise, I’m going to come over there and make you tell me.”
Whit chortled.
“Don’t laugh.”
“I’m sorry.” She kept messing with the stove’s contents. “It’s just, that’s a ridiculous statement.”
“Ridiculous?” The bundle of cold rocks clamored to the floor as she stood. Whit hurried to her.
“Abby, don’t.” She appeared serious now in not wanting her to move. But Abby was resolute. She took a step toward her, putting a little more pressure on her knee than she’d intended, and she fell, landing in Whit’s arms.
“So—rry,” Abby said, bracing herself against Whit’s chest. “Guess that was dumb.”
Whit held her tight, staring into her eyes. “Yeah.”
She didn’t let go and Abby didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she relaxed against her and released a breath.
“Guess I should lie back down.”
“Uh-huh.”
But neither moved. Abby held her breath again, heart thudding madly behind her breast. She shut her eyes as Whit inched closer. Then, at the last second, Abby widened her eyes.
“You have someone,” she blurted.
Whit blinked. “What?”
“Back in Cozy. You said so yourself.”
“Abby—”
“No,” Abby pushed away. “I can’t, Whit. Not if you’re just going to go home to her.”
Whit held fast but didn’t try and pull her back. “I’m not. I mean, I am, but I’m not.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means—she’s—it’s not like that.”
“Not like what? Serious? Is now when you tell me you have an open relationship?”
“What?” She had the nerve to look appalled. “No, of course not.”
“Then what, Whit?”
Whit’s eyes drifted closed. “It’s not what you think.”
“But you do have someone waiting for you back in Cozy?”
Whit seemed to struggle to answer. “Yes, but—”
“Forget it. I don’t want to hear it.” Abby pushed away fully this time and fell onto the bed. She cried out as a sharp pain shot up from her knee. Whit tried to come to her side, but she refused her.
“I’m fine,” she said, more hurt than she’d care to admit, and not just from her knee. Whit tried to return the cold bundle to her leg, but Abby turned on her side to face away from her.
“Abby, come on. You need to keep your knee cold.”
“Later.”
“It won’t be cold then.”
Abby didn’t want to admit it, but Whit was right. And she didn’t want her to have to go back out to the creek. She flipped onto her back and raised her pant leg. “Fine.”
Whit situated the shirt onto her leg and remained at her side. She seemed to be searching for something to say. “Whatever you’re thinking about me, it’s not true. If you’ll just listen, I—”
“No, Whit. I don’t want to listen. So, just leave me alone. Please.”
She closed her eyes to shut her out. It apparently worked because she heard her messing with the stove again.
Abby kept her eyes closed, wanting nothing more than for sleep to come once again. Anything to stop feeling the hurt she now couldn’t deny.