Felix
I’ve got the last of Riley’s bags on the porch and I still haven’t managed to rein in my anger.
We’ve both been conned.
I want to hunt down her uncle or whoever the hell he is and beat him senseless.
She’s young. Younger than her profile listing.
And she’s clueless to the reason she’s here.
I should do the right thing and let her leave. Except with her belongings laid out in front of me in trash bags, I have a feeling she doesn’t have the resources to do it.
With a sigh, I lean down and scratch between Nev’s ears. “What are we going to do, boy? We can’t throw her out. But I can’t marry her.”
It’s too late to find alternative arrangements today.
Uncle Granger might know someone looking for a housekeeper or something else Riley would be suited to, but there is still the problem of where she’ll stay.
I could ask him to come get her to stay at his place—it’s bigger than my cabin, but doing that doesn’t sit right.
She might not understand the reason I invited her here, but I’m pretty sure the man who dropped her off does.
I’ll have to be the one to break the bad news to her. There is no job. And as much as I like the idea of her staying, I can’t force her to marry me.
I won’t force her.
My gaze lands on the bags again and I can’t help the growl that rumbles in my chest. “Who puts someone’s things in trash bags?” Neville gives a matching growl and I laugh.
Good to know we’re of the same mind about Riley’s situation. It might not be what I planned, but I can’t leave her to fend for herself. I’ll help her any way I can.
“Come on, Nev, let’s get her things inside and dinner served. Maybe with warm food in our bellies, we’ll come up with a plan to help Riley.”
Opening the door a fraction so I can get each bag inside without losing too much heat, I urge Neville through first.
“Go on. Get inside.” He’s through the gap before I finish talking. Nev might be a mutt of some indeterminate kind, but he isn’t stupid and it’s starting to get cold out here.
Glancing behind me, I see nothing but gray clouds heavy with rain hovering above the treetops and know we’re in for another drenching. Best to hurry up and get everyone safely locked inside before the wind picks up or the rain starts.
When I have the last bag inside, the door closed and latched behind me, I toe my boots off on the mat and rub my hands together. It’s not much warmer in here than outside. Looking at the fireplace, I see the fire is no longer burning bright.
Dammit. I forgot to put another log on like I said I would before heading back outside to retrieve Riley’s bags.
Going over, I poke the ashes and glowing logs around before adding a couple more. Some small, some large for longer burning. I’ll have to keep an eye on it overnight to make sure it doesn’t go out.
Riley’s used to living lower down the mountain, close to town where the weather doesn’t get as cold as it does up here.
In the mountains, winter comes early. She’ll need thermals if she’s going to stay.
She’ll definitely need some to sleep in tonight.
If she doesn’t have any, I can loan her some of mine.
Nights are already cold, and with a storm rolling in, I expect tonight will be a little worse than it has been. The cabin is sealed, but it isn’t air tight. Hot and cold air seeps in and out of cracks too small for me to find.
“Do you mind if I put my milk in the fridge?”
Riley’s voice has me looking over my shoulder. She’s in the kitchen, some of her groceries from the bags spread out on the counter. She looks like she belongs. Like it’s normal to see her there. Swallowing, I force my mouth into a smile. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
I watch her for a few moments before finishing with the fire and moving over to the opposite side of the counter to her. “I’ll just wash up then get dinner served.”
“Oh, I can do that if you tell me where the bowls are.”
“No need. Why don’t you find some dry clothes to change into?” I nod toward her bags. “Do you have any thermals? You’ll need them overnight.”
With a single nod, she looks at the bags, frowns. “I do. But I don’t know which bag they’re in.”
“I noticed none of them are labeled.”
“Oh, that’s not why I don’t know.” Her eyes meet mine. “I didn’t pack anything. Warren had those on the porch when I got back from the grocery store this morning.”
Her words aren’t helping change my mind about the man who dropped her off. The one I believe put her profile on Get Hitched without her knowledge. Swallowing my emotions again, I say, “Go see what you can find. I’ll get dinner organized.”
Stalking to the bathroom, I shut the door behind me with too much force, but anger vibrates through every muscle and needs an outlet. If it wasn’t going to be dark soon, I’d go back outside and chop wood. Lifting the lid on the toilet, I pull out my dick to piss.
I’d like to piss on something—someone—else right now, but any retribution will have to wait. I need to take care of Riley first.
Business done and hands scrubbed clean, I go back into the main room and stop short. Riley is on her knees, tears sliding down her cheeks, a small broken object in her hands.
“Riley?”
She sniffles. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” I move closer, the need to be near her overriding any other thought. “What’s wrong?”
“The only thing I have left from my parents got broken.”
My jaw clenches and my hands curl so tight they ache. With effort I keep my voice soft. “Is anything else broken?”
“I don’t know.” She tips her head side to side to wipe a cheek on each shoulder. “This was the first thing I found.”
Thunder rumbles in the distance, echoing my thoughts.
I’ll call Uncle Granger and see what he knows about Warren.
About Riley. He knows pretty much everyone in and around Winter Lake.
Except then I’ll have to explain that I agreed to marry a woman I’d never met.
One who is clueless about our agreement because she never made it.
Moving closer until I’m right behind her, I peer over the top of her head and into the open trash bag. Everything is just tossed in. Like it’s trash. Except all those things are Riley’s. And with a jolt of shock, I realize what’s in these six bags are her only possessions.
“Why don’t you take everything out and see if anything else is damaged?
I’ll get our dinner served and then we can work out where to put your things so they’re protected.
But first, get out of those damp clothes.
There’s a storm rolling in and if the wind picks up, things will get cold in here even with the fire roaring. ”
“O-kay.” She sniffles, wipes her face on her shoulders again then gently places the broken ornament on the floor beside her. Shuffling on her knees, she opens another bag and looks inside. “I think this is my clothes.”
I want to hover over her, make sure she doesn’t find anything else upsetting, but I know I should give her privacy. Shaking my head, I step back and turn toward the kitchen. My gaze brushes over the bathroom and an idea hits me, and I turn back around.
“Do you want to shower before dinner? Freshen up after being in wet clothes all day?” Her face tips up toward me and the surprise and yearning in her gaze has my throat and chest constricting.
“Could I?” she asks, as though I’m offering her the most precious thing in the world.
“Of course. You don’t need my permission. Clean towels are on the shelves behind the door and there is soap in the shower you can use if you can’t find your own.”
Riley laughs but there’s no humor in it. “He probably didn’t pack my toiletries.”
It’s not a bad thing I want to hunt down her uncle and beat him senseless, right? I’m not normally a violent person. And my thoughts are less than he deserves.
Depending on how our talk goes, the one we’re going to have while we eat dinner, I’ll decide when to go looking for him.
I might not have gotten the wife I expected, and I might not know what to do with the woman who showed up, but I know what it’s like to feel trapped. Without control. And I’m more than willing to help Riley find hers.