Chapter 9 Noah
NINE
NOAH
Islip out of bed while Sophia continues to sleep, careful not to jostle her. My heart thunders like the storm raging outside, the remnants of my nightmare clouding the peace I’d felt only hours before.
I was a fool to think her presence would be enough to chase away the smoke, the pain, even for as long as she had.
The guilt and agony always come back, no matter how hard I try to fight it.
Closing myself in the bathroom, I hesitate to turn the light on, to take in the scars that’ll stay with me the rest of my life.
Remnants of a life I loved, one I can’t return to.
Reminders of a brother I failed to save, no matter how hard I tried.
I was ready to give my life for him, prepared to go down in the flames.
Bile rises in my throat, so I steady my breathing and practice the calming techniques I’d been taught in therapy. My breath catches in my throat, and I hold it for as long as I can before releasing it slowly.
A soft knock at the door draws me out of the panic; I barely look up, drawing in another long breath as it creaks open, only releasing that breath when Sophia wraps her arms around me and hugs me from behind.
Neither of us say anything, though I don’t think we have to. Somehow, she’s come to know me better and better, and I don’t know if that should excite me—or terrify me.
Maybe it’s the sign I need to tell her how I feel. Because there’s no excusing the safety and comfort she offers me now. No way to talk away the calm she somehow manages to bring me.
Just like the moment I opened my eyes for the first time in that hospital room and I saw her beside me, now I fall deeper in love with her. She’s my angel.
My saviour.
Sophia groans as she hangs the final flannel in the closet. “How many of these do you have?”
I chuckle and fold my old station workout shirt, adding it to the pile of clothing she’s been wearing the last couple of days.
I used to hide them in the back of the closet.
Never able to throw them away, but too scared to forget what I left behind.
They were a reminder I both wanted to escape and to keep close.
Just like my old turnout coat still in the coat closet, hidden behind my snow jacket. I remember the day Cap handed it over to me. Said no one else would ever wear it.
“Didn’t you know?” I ask, tossing a pair of boxers on the bed. “That’s basic uniform for those of us living up here.”
Sophia rolls her dark eyes with a laugh, crossing her arms. “Funny.” She takes a pair of thick socks and joins them. “I swear, you own more than a cowboy.”
“And how would you know that?” I ask, a little teasing, though I can’t help the small flare of jealousy.
Again, my angel rolls her eyes. “Because I’m not blind. Don’t get all caveman on me.”
I drop the boxers and round the bed to pull her into my arms. The bruises are still there, but they aren’t nearly as dark or as swollen as they were when I pulled her out of the wreck. Another week, and she’ll be completely healed.
It has me wondering what it will be like after the storm passes and we can get down the mountain. It’s one thing being trapped together because of the snow, another to explore what might be between us without the forced proximity.
Once the weather clears, will she still want me?
Once she can leave, will there be a way for us to make this work?
Sophia leans up onto her tiptoes, and like a magnet drawn to her, I lower my face until our lips meet.
The kiss is slow at first. Teasing. There’s no hesitation between us, nothing to indicate she might not be as into this as I am.
Her hands inch up my chest to wind around my neck, deepening the kiss. All I want is to feel her again, to know she’s real and here, but dread pools in the pit of my stomach at the sound of static.
Sophia pulls away first, brows drawn in a frown. “What was that?” she asks, but the static cuts off.
My heart races as I look towards the set of drawers by the closet. I’d completely forgotten about the satphone. Our one means of communication.
“I think it’s—” Before I can finish, the static fills the room again, this time louder. Through it, I think I hear a voice.
A voice that sounds an awful lot like her brother.
Something shifts in Sophia’s eyes as she pulls completely away and goes to her knees. Before I can stop her, she fumbles and reaches beneath the dresser.
I’m frozen in place at the end of the bed, heart hammering in my chest, every thought and possible explanation fleeing my brain.
Sophia clambers to her feet, the satphone clutched in her hand. My heart races before stopping completely as the warmth in her eyes drains. Sophia sucks in a shuddering breath as she looks between me and the phone, fingers trembling.
A lump forms in my throat as I take a step towards her. “I can ex—”
“You’ve had this for the whole week, Noah,” she whispers, tossing the device onto the bed. “You could have called for help, but you didn’t. Why?”
The tone of her voice has every wall I’ve let down for her comes right back up.
I clench my jaw as I cross my arms. “The damned thing broke. I sent out an alert immediately.” There’s no emotion in my voice as I speak, and yet my heart is shattering in a million pieces as I watch the thoughts play out across her face.
Sophia releases a shaky breath, opens her mouth like she wants to say more, but before she can, the satphone breaks out in static again with that broken voice trying to come through.
It makes me look like a damned liar. Maybe I should have tried harder. That’s what it looks like she wants to say. I should have done more.
And she’d be right. Every fear I’ve had since I found her, since she kissed me, comes rushing back as her eyes dart to the bed.
“It doesn’t sound too broken to me,” she states, crossing her arms, mimicking my closed off stance.
I don’t look at her as I approach the satphone and pick it up. It feels like a brick in my hand, carrying the weight of every mistake I’ve made since bringing her here.
Maybe I really should have just taken her to the damned hospital. That would be better than the way she’s looking at me now, like she doesn’t recognise me.
I twist one of the controls to find the right frequency, which allows for whoever is on the other end to come through clearer.
“Grey? Come in, Grey.”
Sophia sucks in a sharp breath as Cooper’s voice becomes stronger. I should feel relief, but instead a weight drops into my stomach.
I barely spare Sophia a glance as I respond. “Ridgeway. I’m here.”
There’s a pause before Coop replies, “Please tell me you have my fucking sister.”
Sophia and I don’t speak as we await Cooper and the Jade Mountain Rescue Team’s arrival.
Her packed bag waits by the door while she sits at the dining table by the window, chin resting on her fist, eyes on the snowy landscape and driveway outside. She hasn’t looked at me since Cooper told us he was coming.
The first chance she gets, and she’s gone. I shouldn’t be surprised—I knew this would happen. I’m just surprised the peace lasted this long.
No, distraction. Sophia Ridgeway can’t be more than that, and yet she’s become everything to me.
She always has been everything to me. From the moment I spotted her in Dawson’s Diner, to the day I woke up in that hospital bed with her at my bedside, I’ve always known I would be hers, that no one else would do it for me.
I keep her in my line of sight as I watch the driveway. The snow has certainly cleared a bit in the last few hours, and the sky is blue for the first time in over a week.
The sound of a diesel engine catches my attention, and I slouch a little more as I watch one of the rescue trucks appear through the trees. Sophia straightens, a smile curving her beautiful lips as she catches sight of the vehicle.
They stop the truck next to mine. From the passenger side, Cooper jumps out, rounds the hood, and stomps through the snow up to the small porch I recently fixed up.
But before he can make it to the door, Sophia is up from her chair and throwing open the door, releasing all the warmth from inside the cabin.
A chill runs down my spine as I push off the counter. Sophia throws her arms around Cooper with so much love it makes my chest ache. It has me realising she’ll never see me as anything more than Noah, Cooper’s friend, and the man she nursed back to health. A patient, someone she feels sorry for.
“You have no idea how happy I am that you’re alive,” Cooper says, burying his head in Sophia’s shoulder. They might only be a couple of years apart in age, but he’s always taken his responsibility as big brother seriously. “When we got the call about your truck, I thought—”
“I know.” She takes a step back, and for the first time since she found the satphone, she glances at me. “But Noah found me, saved me.”
I can’t take my eyes off her, but I feel the burn of Cooper’s stare, so I force myself to look away from her to greet him. “Hey.”
Cooper steps around Sophia and holds out his hand. This is the first time I’ve seen him since winter hit, though not for a lack of trying on his part.
I take his hand and give it a shake. “Thanks for helping her, Noah. You have no idea how—” He stops and shakes his head. “I’m just glad you found her and not some creep, or worse—she tried to find help herself. Soph has no sense of direction.”
At that, I crack a smile, chancing a look in her direction. Her eyes remain locked on her brother, glassy and sad. My heart cracks a little more, the smile faltering. “She hurt her wrist in the crash, and her head.”
“I’ll get her to the hospital.” Cooper releases my hand and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “Thank you for looking after her, man.”
If only he knew. But I nod. I can’t bring myself to say anything else as he guides her to the door and takes her bag. The woman I love is walking away like nothing happened and there’s nothing I can do to stop her.
I step into the doorway, watching as Cooper throws her bag into the back of the rescue truck. The driver gives me a nod but nothing else, yet I still can’t take my eyes off her. Not even as she gets into the back and she’s completely obscured.
Cooper gets into the passenger side with one last wave in my direction. I don’t move until the truck has completely turned around and taken off down the driveway. Even when it’s disappeared beyond the trees, I find myself still locked in place.
When I can’t hear the engine anymore, I stalk to the side of the cabin where I’ve been keeping most of my tools and pick up one of the large sledgehammers.
The wood of the handle is icy in my hand, but I ignore the bite and carry it into the cabin.
The door slams behind me as I stalk into the kitchen and take in the countertops and cabinets.
I only see her and our broken future when I swing.