Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Izzy
The second I cross the threshold of his house that looks more like a cabin, leaving the blustery cold behind, a subtle warmth envelops me. The drastic change in temperature makes my cheeks sting.
After flicking the lights on, Ledger takes his boots off and lines them up neatly by the door, then moves to the black free-standing fireplace that sits a few feet from the wall in the living room.
There’s a small pile of barely-glowing ash and coal as he opens it and wastes no time placing several pieces of new firewood on top.
He’s crouched in front of the fire while he adjusts the stack of wood to his liking. The jeans he’s wearing stretch tight over his thighs, and I bite my lip watching him. I can’t help it. The man has incredibly muscular legs.
With a palm to the forehead, I turn to face the window and chastise myself for checking out this guy who probably has a wife and kids, for all I know.
I sneak a peek over my shoulder to look for a ring on his finger.
It’s bare. And judging by the space, I’d say a wife or kids aren’t likely anyway.
Wouldn’t there be some women’s shoes by the door or toys laying around if that were the case?
Not that it matters.
“Should warm up pretty quick,” he says as he stands and turns to walk back toward the door, which I’m still standing in front of.
His coat slides down his arms as he shrugs it off, revealing a maroon long-sleeved Carhartt T-shirt underneath.
“It looks good to me.”
“What?”
“I mean . . . it feels good in here to me,” I correct myself.
He nods.
Trying to be subtle so that he doesn’t think I’m judging his space, I gaze around the cabin. From the outside, I knew that the log structure was fairly old. It’s not run-down by any means, but I’m certain the rustic charm couldn’t possibly be duplicated in a new build.
I immediately loved how cozy it looked because of the glow from the porch light and the fresh layer of snow covering the roof. I can’t help but smile to myself now that I’m inside, seeing how equally endearing it is.
A massive cowhide rug covers the dark-stained wood plank floor.
The smell is a mixture of leather, smoke, and pine.
There’s no paint on the walls, just sturdy logs, each rich with the natural shade of warm chestnut.
The grain patterns twist and swirl along the surface.
Between each log, thick bands of white chinking hold everything snugly together.
There isn’t much in the form of strategic decoration, apart from a few humble memorabilia and sentimental items—like the old pair of vintage skis hanging near the hallway and the large three-tier bookshelf that spans the entire wall to my left.
It’s the unframed black and white tintype portraits arranged neatly on the slim console table that catch my eye the most, though. I stay where I am, but I want so badly to get closer and inspect them to see if they’re authentic.
A dirty brown cowboy hat, that may have once been a light gray or tan, hangs next to the door. It looks soft and well worn-in, and there’s a feather tucked in the band.
The strangest sense of nostalgia hits me. I don’t understand the feeling at first, seeing as how I’ve never been in a place like this. But it’s clear there’s a lot of history and love here.
“Wow,” I whisper. “Your place is so—”
“Small?”
“No— I mean, yes, it’s small.” I laugh. “But in a good way. In a charming and beautiful way.”
“I like it here,” Ledger admits in a low voice. He places his hands in his pockets, and I try to ignore his side profile while he looks around, which is proving impossible. Not even the full beard or the shadow from the black cowboy hat he’s still wearing can hide that strong jaw.
“Yeah, me too,” I whisper through a soft smile, not looking away from him.
Should I slap myself now or later?
“Where were you headed?” He absentmindedly scratches the side of his face. “I assume you’re not from around here based on all the luggage.”
“Centennial Valley. I have a job there in a few days. I was supposed to be staying at some ski lodge, though.” I pull out my phone and swipe to the camera roll, looking for the screenshot of my reservation.
“Snowy Range?”
I nod. “Yes, that’s it. Is it far from here?”
“No, you got pretty close. My family lives in Centennial Valley, actually.”
“No way!” I perk up finding our first thing in common. Well, it’s kind of something in common. Close enough.
“Yeah, I grew up there on my parents’ ranch. I work there for my dad now.”
That tracks. Only cowboys look that sturdy without even trying. I bet his hands are strong and—
“What’s that look for?” he asks.
“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” I raise my eyebrows and give a quick shake of my head. “I was just—picturing a ranch near these beautiful mountains. I’m sure the view never gets old.”
“It’s home. I’m used to it,” he says. “About your car . . . I know a guy that could pick it up and fix it once the roads are clear, but not sure when that’ll be.”
“So, I just stay here until then? It’s generous of you. I feel bad, though,” I laugh.
“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles. I think he’s being sincere, but I bite the corner of my lip anyway. “Maybe I’m the one that should feel bad since you’re stuck with me. I’ve never been accused of being the most friendly guy in the world, but I’m a lot nicer than that storm out there at least.”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Nice?”
With no immediate response, the silence stretches between us. I challenge him with a look and crossed arms, daring him to be honest.
“I can be nice.” He shrugs, finally taking his hat off and placing it upside down on the kitchen island counter not far behind him. “When I want to be.”
I eye him skeptically. “Are you a convicted felon?”
“No.”
“Do you return your grocery cart before you leave the parking lot?”
He twists his expression. “The hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
I smile and nod. “Okay. I can work with that.”
He shakes his head with a chuckle. So, he could be a liar.
And my questions aren’t exactly going to give me any scientific evidence on whether or not he’s a bad guy.
But after quizzing him a little bit, I don’t get the intuition that I should have my guard up.
With a deep breath, I decide I’m going to roll with the punches and try not to make a bad weekend worse.
I meet new people on almost a daily basis. In the time I’ve spent traveling, I’ve developed a keen sense of character. While Ledger isn’t exactly easy to read, something about him makes me breathe easy instead of wanting to hold my breath.
“Alright, well . . ..” He clears his throat to tear me away from my thoughts. “I’ll put your stuff in my room.”
He moves to reach for the bag closest to me, but I block his hand.
I’m feeling more myself now that I’m inside the cabin and I’m pretty sure this man isn’t going to slice my throat for fun.
In truth, I was scared at first to get in his vehicle, let him take me all the way up the driveway, and step into his house.
But I’ve accepted the fact that this is where I’ll be staying for a short while with no other options.
Maybe we could even become friends during my stay?
“I’ll be fine here.” I gesture to the leather sectional that takes up ninety percent of the living room. “I don’t want to kick you out of your room. That seems rude.”
He shakes his head and reaches around me to grip the handle of the bag anyway. “It’s not a big deal. I fall asleep on the couch most nights anyway.”
I hate the idea of taking over his entire space.
“It’s fine. Really. I’ll stay out here, and you keep your room.”
Glancing at the couch again, I predict it’ll be pretty comfortable anyway.
Several pillows and folded plush blankets are scattered across the cushions.
There’s no coffee table blocking the view of the fireplace, and if I wasn’t in the house of a total stranger right now, I bet it’d be the best sleep of my life.
I pull at the hem of my sweater as a loud ring sounds from the kitchen. Ledger walks toward the counter, stopping in front of a drawer next to the sink. It rattles from what I’m guessing is a vibrating phone as he pushes some things around in the drawer to find it.
“Hello?” he says, once he finally fishes it out and puts it up to his ear. “Uh, yeah. Is the pass closed yet?” He speaks quietly and looks over his shoulder, making me feel like I’m invading the privacy of his conversation.
To appear busy and like I’m not paying attention to him, I pick up one of my suitcases to move to the couch and unpack a few things. If his voice wasn’t as deep as it is, it’d be easier to ignore.
Even with his hushed mumbling into the phone against his ear, his voice echoes off the walls, sending a chill down my spine. I think I’ve been staring at the contents of my bag for at least a minute when I catch a clearer sentence from him.
“She’s going to stay here, actually.” He pauses while listening to the other person’s response. “Izzy,” he adds.
My head snaps up in his direction. He’s holding the phone out in front of him, toward me. I point to my chest with a quirked eyebrow, questioning if he wants me to take it or not. He nods, and I step around the couch to retrieve it.
“Hello?” I’m not sure why, but I keep my eyes locked on Ledger’s as I speak into the phone. He leans his hips back on the counter and crosses his arms.
“Oh, you poor thing! My son tells me you’re having to stay there with him because of your car and the storm. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Her voice is chipper and sweet, putting a smile on my face. “That’s very nice of you to offer. I think my plan is to wait for the roads to improve and then call for a tow truck. Thank you, though.”
“But you have a safe place to stay in the meantime, that’s the important thing,” she suggests.
I scan the warm cabin. While not large, it’s certainly comfortable and appears to be safe. “Yes, I got lucky that Ledger allowed me to stay.”
“Izzy is your name, he said?”
“Yes. Uh—Isadora, actually. Isadora Blake. But my friends call me Izzy, I prefer that.”
“Isadora?” Ledger mumbles under his breath, but I catch it. I shoot him a fuck off look, and he holds his hands up in retreat.
“Well, that’s a lovely name. Do me a favor and make yourself at home. I know my son is a little shy, but he’s a good man, I can promise you. He’s also singl—”
“Mom.”
I didn’t realize I was standing close enough for him to hear her end of the conversation, and I snicker with a hand over my mouth. We don’t know each other, but her comment about him being shy makes me think twice about my first impression of him.
Sure, he doesn’t say a whole lot. But he damn sure wasn’t shy when he helped me off the ground, and then demanded I stop being scared and get into his truck.
A surprising curiosity creeps its way into my thoughts. I can’t help but wonder more about what he’s like.
“Shame on you for eavesdropping, Ledger. Don’t you have things to do? Go chop wood or something while I chat with Izzy.”
I raise my eyebrows, not hating the idea of him wandering off to find the nearest axe. Bravery hits me, and I can’t help it, deciding to jump in on the banter. “Shoo. We need firewood.”
His eyes narrow and he runs his tongue over the top row of his teeth on one side of his mouth. I double down by pointing to the back door.
His mom’s cackles ring through the phone, and it puts a smug smile on my face. “I love it. He needs someone to boss him around just like that,” she says.
The fact that he remains in place, stubborn and unmoving, disproves her suggestion. Shy, my ass.
If anyone is going to be giving orders around here, I think it’s him. I’ll be speaking to my therapist in a few weeks about why that makes me want to squeeze my thighs together.
But then again, I don’t need therapy to help me figure out that I’m pathetically attracted to this man.
Maybe it’s just rebound hormones. I get them every time.
Not ideal to be horny and stranded with a hot stranger if I don’t want to make a fool of myself while I’m here, but it’ll fizzle out once I get some sleep.
I hope.
“You can call me Gina, by the way. Gina Cole. My number is on speed dial if you need to call for anything.”
She’s incredibly sweet, and it puts me at ease a bit, considering I’m trapped with a stranger for the foreseeable future. “Thank you, Gina.”
“Oh, shoot. Sarabeth! Wait for me to open that oven! I’ve got to go, dear. Have a great time.”
The line clicks and then goes silent. Have a great time? Ma’am, my car doesn’t work and I can’t go anywhere. I might not even make it to my next job location before I’m supposed to be there. And your son is a grumpy pants deluxe. I doubt I’ll be having a great time.
I shrug and hold the phone out to Ledger. He takes it and places it back in the drawer behind him.
“Satellite phone,” he clarifies.
“Ah. Gotcha. I was wondering how you had service up here.” I pull my own phone out of my pocket, checking the screen again, even though I know what I’ll see. Zero bars.
“You can use it if you need to contact someone,” he suggests.
“Oh. Okay, thanks.”
He nods, rubbing his full beard along his jaw. I tuck the ends of my sleeves into my palms and cross my arms, trying to look anywhere but at him. His eye contact is piercing, and it makes me fidget with the rings on my fingers.
After the day I’ve had, a hot shower is starting to sound amazing. Plus, it seems like a good way to get out of his hair.
“Well, I’m going to take a quick shower if that’s okay.”
“I need to jump in the shower,” he blurts out at the exact same time while picking his hat up off the counter.
Said hat slips out of his hands and drops to the floor. In a flash, he bends to pick it up, and I smother a grin.
“It’s your house, go ahead of me. Plus, you definitely look like you’ve been working all day.” I cringe, wishing I wouldn’t have said that last part out loud.
“I’ll be quick,” he promises with that low voice of his.
Gutter, meet brain.
I laugh softly and tuck my hair behind my ear, hoping to break the tension. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”
He steps forward, passing me on his way to the bathroom. I think I hear him mumble something along the lines of things only being awkward if we decided to split the shower to save time instead, but I could be wrong.
I could have sworn he wore a barely detectable smirk too.
Maybe it was nothing.