19. Mia
Chapter nineteen
Mia
I take another bite of the stew. It tastes horrible, and I don’t want it, but I have to eat. I force myself to chew and swallow, staring blankly into the fire. The heat gives me some comfort, mirroring the warmth in my belly as I consume the meager meal. Noah keeps his eyes on his bowl, hardly making a sound. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. His expression is unreadable, a stony mask that hides whatever turmoil may be churning under the surface. He’s probably pretty pissed at me for putting him directly in the path of a madman. Simply being with me is a death sentence.
“I’ll clean up,” I say when we’ve finished eating, standing up and gathering our bowls. “You should rest.”
Noah nods but doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he watches me with piercing eyes, studying me intently as if trying to figure out some complex riddle written on my face. I wish I could give him the answers he’s so desperately seeking, but the truth is, I don’t even know them myself.
Retreating to the small kitchen area, I busy myself with cleaning our bowls and utensils.
The water is freezing, but it’s a distraction from reality, from the fear that’s so deeply rooted within me. As I scrub at the stubborn stew residue, my thoughts drift to the imminent danger we face. The man who is after me is cold—ruthless. He’s already taken two lives, and there’s no reason to think he won’t take more. The only reason he would kill Eric was because of misplaced jealousy. He believed his own lies that I was messing with a married man.
The sound of a log crackling in the fireplace pulls me back to reality. I dry off the last dish and place it onto the wooden rack, then sigh and glance over my shoulder. Noah sits there, his hard gaze now fixated on the roaring flames. Nightfall came fast, and we were back in the soft lighting of the flames. The warm glow illuminates his face, his features strained with worry.
“I could take the first watch,” I offer, turning back to him. “You should get some sleep. ”
“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “You need rest, too.”
“I can’t sleep,” I admit with a shrug. “There’s too much going through my mind.”
“I think we need some kind of alarm system,” he says.
“An alarm system?” I look around the rustic cabin with no electricity. No wi-fi. I do not understand how he’s going to make an alarm system.
He nods. “Yes.”
“We’ll use the empty cans, and I found some wire in that closet,” he says. “And we have the broken glass from the window.”
I still don’t get it, but I trust him. He stands up, gesturing for me to follow him. We rummage through the closet, finding more than just the wire he’d mentioned. There are also fishing lines with tiny bells attached, likely used to alert when a catch is made. Noah’s idea suddenly makes a lot more sense.
We spent the next hour setting up our makeshift security system. The snare wire is run around the cabin’s perimeter, strung between trees, and staked into the ground. We tie the fishing bells to it at intervals, which jingle when the wire is disturbed. We hang the empty cans over the front door, forming a noisy curtain that no one can pass through silently.
The broken glass from the window is more complicated. Noah had an idea to spread it thinly on the ground around the cabin. Any footsteps would cause a crunching sound that would easily give away someone trying to approach, but the snow acted as a pillow. Instead, we put it on the tiny front porch, hoping the sound would alert us.
By the time the last trap is placed, night had fallen in earnest. The stars are out, clearly visible against the dark sky. The moon hangs low, casting shimmering shadows over the snow-covered ground. Thankfully, the clouds we saw earlier had rolled right on by. The forest is eerily quiet, as if the creatures that live there know something we don’t. The chill in the air deepens, and a shiver runs through me. We did what we could to protect ourselves, but would it be enough?
“I wish we had more time,” I say as we stand by the front door, examining our handiwork.
“So do I,” Noah replies quietly.
He takes my hand then, his touch warm and reassuring against the biting cold. “We’ve done all we can do,” he says firmly. “Now, we should try to get some sleep.”
I nod but don’t move. Instead, I stare at the sky, taking in the beautiful yet chilling sight of a winter’s night in full bloom. Part of me worries that this might be my last night on this earth. I want to appreciate the beauty—just in case this is the last chance I get.
Noah gently squeezes my hand and leads me back into the cabin. He locks the door, and we scoot the couch in front of it. We find ourselves back on the floor, close to the fire. We could sleep in the bed, but it just feels cozier here. I feel safe in the little nest we built. He doesn’t put his arms around me or cuddle with me. We both lie on our backs, wide awake. Sex crosses my mind, but I’m worried about letting my guard down.
I lie next to Noah and stare at the ceiling. I can’t help but think about the man beside me. He’s a mystery with a past that’s as shadowy as the forest outside. I pretty much put him on my ex’s hit list, and his first thought was taking care of me. Oddly enough, if I had to be in this situation, I am glad it’s him I’m stuck with .
The wind picks up, which is a little spooky. I can hear the distant howl of wolves. It is an eerie sound yet thrilling in its wildness. Eric was right. He said they would be back, and they are here. I am disappointed I won’t get the chance to photograph them. Eric’s research and the book he was writing will never be finished. He was going to use some of my pictures for his book—and now it will never happen. I glance at Noah; his eyes are closed, and if I didn’t know better, I would question whether he was even alive. Without thinking, I poke his chest, jolting him awake.
“Do you have a wife or girlfriend?” I blurt out.
He blinks, disoriented, then focuses on me. “No,” he says, his voice groggy. “Why?”
I prop myself up on one elbow, determined to dig deeper. “Why are you single? Have you ever been close to marriage?”
Noah sighs, clearly not thrilled about being interrogated in the middle of the night. “I’ve had my share of relationships, but nothing ever stuck. I guess I’m just not the settling-down type.”
“Why not?” I press. “What’s your story? ”
He turns the tables on me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What about you? Why are you always on the go?”
I shrug, looking away. “I’ve never felt the need to stay in one place. I’m a nomad. Carter was the first man I dated for any length of time. Looking back, I realize that it wasn’t really by choice. I don’t count that as a relationship. I was an obsession.”
“Good point,” he says. “I’m glad you got away from him.”
The fire shifts, sending up a blaze of sparks before settling down again.
“Yeah,” I finally reply, heaving a sigh. “Me too.” My gaze flicks to the dwindling embers, not quite ready to meet Noah’s eyes. “But did I really get away from him? He’s still coming after me.”
“I’ll keep you safe, Mia.”
I turn to look at him. I see he believes that, and I think he wants to, but I’m just not sure it’s possible. I think Carter is a man on a mission.
“Where’s your home base?” he asks.
“Denver,” I reply. “I have a house there, but I live out of a suitcase most of the time. ”
“Have you ever thought about settling down?” he asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. “Maybe not traveling so much?”
I think about it for a moment, then shake my head. “I love my job. I’ve never found anyone who made me consider giving it up. I love being able to grab my suitcase and go.”
“And Carter just always went with you?”
“Yes,” I nod, realizing now just how odd that was. “He would insist on traveling with me. When I did have to go into the forest or wilderness or wherever he would stay at the hotel or tent. So, I didn’t really see how clingy he was. I felt like I still had my freedom.”
“Until you didn’t,” Noah finishes, his tone falling flat with the raw truth of his words.
I nod, the knot in my stomach tightening. “It was really that fast. One day, I woke up, and I realized it was wrong. That I wasn’t truly loved. I was something to be possessed.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m glad you saw what was happening. ”
The wolves howl again, closer this time. The sound is hauntingly beautiful. “Tomorrow, I want to track them and get pictures,” I say impulsively.
Noah looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You’re nuts,” he says, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice.
I laugh softly. “Maybe. But it’s what I do.”
Despite the situation, I feel a strange sense of peace. Being here, with Noah, feels...right. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day catches up with us. I roll to my side, and Noah automatically slides up against me, wrapping one arm around me and pulling my body against his. We drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.
I wake up to the sound of the wind still howling outside. The fire is nothing but ash, and the cabin is chilly. Noah stirs beside me, his arm draped over my waist. I smile and close my eyes once again. He’s got me. I’m safe. His body keeps me warm. That’s all I need.