She looked up, eyes glassy. “You don’t have to?—”
“I know I don’t have to,” I said, already moving. “But you came a long way, thinking some stranger was going to feed you tacos and make you feel safe. That sounds like the worst fairytale I’ve ever heard, and the least I can do is live up to part of it.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. “I didn’t think it was a fairytale. I just thought maybe it would be enough.”
I looked at her long and hard. Her cheeks were pink from the heat, her hair clinging to her neck in damp waves. She looked exhausted, brittle around the edges. But she was trying to hold herself upright with dignity, and something about that damn near split me in half.
I went to the kitchen and gathered everything I could find to tide her over. Luckily, I had some peanut butter and crackers, along with some cheese. I set it all up on a paper plate, trying to organize it in an attractive way and failing miserably.
“You need protein,” I said when I finally handed it over. “And carbs. That’ll help.”
She took the plate like it was sacred. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to drive into town and get you what you came for,” I said, grabbing my keys. “Tacos, chips, salsa, whatever else they’ve got.”
She blinked. “Wait—you’re going now?”
“Yeah. Closest place is about twenty minutes each way. You’ll be fine here while I’m gone.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” she whispered.
“You’re not.”
Her eyes darted to the door. “What if someone sees me?”
“No one’s coming,” I said gently. “Nobody even knows we’re here. You’d have to know the turnoff, the drive, and which cabin is mine. Bobbi’s the only person who knows you’re here, and you were just dropped off. Even if she wanted to check in on us, she’d probably wait a few days.”
I expected her to smile at that, but instead, she stared down at the plate in her lap.
I softened my voice. “You can rest while I’m gone.”
Her head came up slowly, eyes wary. “You’re really going to come back?”
That one landed right in the gut. “I’m coming back. With tacos.”
She nodded, and I saw the tears she didn’t let fall. “All right.”
I hesitated at the door, watching her as she carefully took a bite of one of the crackers I’d slathered in peanut butter. Her eyes fluttered shut for a half second, like it was the best thing she’d tasted. I don’t know why that affected me, but it did. More than it should’ve.
I didn’t want a wife. I didn’t want anyone living in my space, breathing my air, unraveling the careful solitude I’d built out here like armor. But I’d be damned if I could leave her lookinglike that. Like the only thing holding her together was the belief that somewhere, someone might actually give a damn.
“I’ll be back soon,” I said, rougher than I meant to. “Make yourself at home.”
She nodded without looking up.
I stepped out into the hot mountain air, the sound of the door clicking shut behind me. The gravel crunched beneath my shoes as I headed toward the truck, every part of me tense.
I didn’t owe her anything. I hadn’t invited her here. But now that she was here, fragile and brave and impossibly lovely in that long-sleeved blouse and modest skirt that probably hadn’t seen a washing machine in months, I was starting to feel like I owed her everything.
God help me.
3
FINLEY
It was amazing what some peanut butter crackers could do.
Logan had made sure I was okay and headed out, telling me to stay on the couch and rest. But the protein and carbs in that small snack gave me a burst of energy. It propelled me off the couch, giving me the strength to wander around. I didn’t want to be nosy, but it couldn’t hurt to familiarize myself with the cabin.
