Riley
Sitting close to Felix shouldn’t be comfortable. It definitely shouldn’t have my body tingling in places it never has before.
I don’t know this man. Only met him a few hours ago. And yet, I have to stop myself from leaning toward him. From touching him.
I do know he’s kind. The way he treats Neville—and me—shows he’s caring on a level I’m not used to. I learned over the years that actions speak louder than words and because of the way Felix behaves, I’ve been at ease since he told me to shower and take care of my things while he organized dinner.
I don’t remember the last time someone other than myself put a meal in front of me.
Surely Aunt Bethany cooked our meals when I was little and unable to cook, but I can’t remember any of those times. Seated at the counter, a warm bowl of stew and a slice of crusty homemade bread to dip into it in front of me served by someone other than myself? It’s a pleasure I’ve never had.
Tears prick my eyes and sting my nose, but I’m not in any danger of crying. Not again. I got all my tears out in the shower. The long, piping hot shower I indulged in because I knew Felix wouldn’t yell at me for wasting water.
“This looks and smells delicious.” I take another deep breath of the fragrant meal. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary.” Next to me he scoops up a spoonful and brings it to his mouth. “I’m used to cooking meals.”
“Same. This is the first one someone else has cooked and put in front of me though.” From the corner of my eye I see him look at me, the mouthful he’s just taken making his jaw flex as he chews, but I ignore his questioning glance and take a spoonful of my own food.
He swallows and says, “It’s good to see someone other than my uncle eating something I’ve cooked.”
We haven’t talked much since I came out of the bathroom, and I have no idea who he’s talking about, but I hope his uncle isn’t anything like mine. And if he is, I hope I don’t meet him.
“Do you have visitors often?” Breaking off a piece of bread, I dip it into the stew.
“Just Uncle Granger.”
“Oh?” I don’t want to pry but the word comes out like a question even if it doesn’t really ask anything.
“I don’t leave the cabin, or the forest. Only go as far as my uncle’s, which is about a mile and a half hike from here that way.” He indicates the wall the kitchen runs along and I can only assume he means through the forest that’s on that side of the cabin.
We’re quiet a few moments as we eat. After several bites, I remember my manners and say, “This really is delicious. What kind of meat is it?”
“Eh…”
I glance over, see his brow furrowed with concern while his jaw works on a mouthful of stew. “Is it meat you hunted yourself?”
He nods, swallows, then says, “Yes. Deer meat.”
“Oh!” My excitement snaps my spine straight. “No wonder it’s so delicious. I love deer meat. I can’t get it often and I have to lie to Aunt Bethany when I do because in her words, we’re too cultured to eat like poor mountain people.” I try to impersonate her snooty tone.
With a shrug and a grin, he says, “Don’t know I’d describe myself that way, but if this is what they eat, I’m happy to be poor mountain people.”
“I like mountain people, poor or not.” The words are out before I can stop them. And I have to clarify because… “I actually don’t know many mountain people.” Smiling sheepishly, I add, “You’re my first.”
“We’re just like city people.” His grin makes me smile wider. “I went to school in the city.”
“In Winter Lake?”
“Yes.”
“Me too!” I break off another chunk of bread. “I loved school.”
I might not have had many friends and didn’t get to do activities outside school hours, but I loved learning. Loved getting out of the cold, dark house and seeing people who smiled and talked rather than yelled.
“You didn’t want to go to college?”
Felix’s question stops me cold. Turns the yummy food in my belly over.
I did want to go. I applied all over the country for scholarships and grants.
Even got a few. Except Aunt Bethany’s health was declining by then and I couldn’t leave her to fend for herself, so my dream of getting out of Winter Lake was over before it had really formed.
“Is that a sore subject?” he asks before he rushes to add, “I didn’t go away to college either.”
I know so little about him that his next words are a shock.
“After I got out of the hospital I couldn’t walk, couldn’t take care of myself. I had to live with my uncle for months until I got back on my feet and could make it back here on my own.”
Swiveling on my stool, I stare at the side of his handsome face. “You were in an accident?”
“Yes.” He’s frowning again. “I told you—”
His mouth snaps shut and I wait for him to continue but when he doesn’t, I broach the subject we’ve ignored since I got here. “How did I end up here? With you?”
He turns toward me and it’s only then that I remember the scaring on the left side of his face.
It looks like someone took a knife and carved into his flesh.
It’s not pretty, but it doesn’t take away from his good looks.
If anything, it makes him look more handsome.
Manly. Like I imagine a rugged mountain man should look.
“Will you please tell me what Warren told you? He told me he found me a job doing what I did for my aunt. Nothing else.”
With a sigh, he puts down his spoon and twists on his stool to face me fully.
“There’s a website called Get Hitched. It’s for men and women looking for a partner, for marriage.
You put up a profile and write what you’re looking for.
If you see someone you think might be a match, you message them and see where things go.
I messaged Riley Rose. Except for the photo of you, I think everything in your profile was a lie. ”
“It wasn’t me you were talking to. It was Warren.”
“I worked that out within five minutes of you getting here.”
“So you thought I was here to marry you, and I thought I was here to work.”
“Yep.”
“I can’t marry—”
“I don’t expect you to.” He shakes his head, his frown on full display. “I’d never make you even if you were the one who said you would.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. We’ve both been conned, tricked. Luckily there was no money involved in the agreement. Well, none beyond me taking care of my wife.”
“Oh, I’d never expect that even if we did get married. I’d get a job. Help support us.”
Felix smiles, the left side of his mouth not quite going as high as the right, the groove in his cheek deepening. “Not many jobs up here.”
“No. I guess not.” If I had transportation, I could drive down the mountain into Winter Lake. Maybe get a job at Della’s Dina. Or at the Lodge cleaning rooms might be a better option. “Do you have a car?”
“No. I told you I don’t leave the forest. I have an ATV and a snowmobile for getting to and from my uncle’s if I don’t want to walk.”
“Oh.”
“You planning to steal my wheels and escape?” His grin tells me he’s not at all afraid I will.
With a matching grin I say, “I don’t know how to drive either of those.”
“Ride.”
“What?”
“It’s more ride than drive.”
I wave a hand to indicate the technicalities of using his transport aren’t important. “You really don’t leave here?”
“No. Haven’t since I got home from the hospital.”
“When was that?”
“Over ten years ago.”
“Wow.” I look around the room, take in the well-used furniture and the comfort of the place, and realize if I’m going to be trapped somewhere other than Aunt Bethany’s dark, cold house, this is a good place to be confined. “I can see why you’d want to stay here. It’s warm and comfy. Safe.”
“You think so?”
I look back at Felix, see the concern and hope in his gaze, and realize one more thing. It isn’t only living here I wouldn’t mind. I think I’d very much like living with this man. “Yes. I do. It’s the best place I’ve ever been.”