by Kate L. Mary
We stood in awkward silence for a moment while I sifted through all the questions in my head. There were so many. I had to get to know this man and figure out if he could be trusted. Last night he’d told me that he planned to stick around until Seamus got back, but I knew that probably wasn’t going to happen. How long would Sawyer hold out? Even more important: How long did I want him to hold out?
He had a home somewhere—even if he had told me my cabin was the nicest place he’d seen—and eventually he’d want to get back. Even though I could use the help, the idea of a stranger staying here, sleeping in my uncle’s bed and wearing his clothes, felt wrong. Like betraying the man who had spent the last eleven years raising me.
“Where did you come from?” I asked, then flushed again. “I mean, you said you were on your way home. Where’s that?”
“I think I got a little off course thanks to the weather, but as best as I can tell, I’m still a good five miles from my place. It’s a little cabin I found a couple years ago. It wasn’t much, only two rooms and barely even a kitchen—not like this place—but I’ve been working hard to build it up and collect supplies. It’s not easy though, especially on my own like this, but the mountains are safer. The dead hardly ever come up this way and people tend to stick close to the settlements.”
He was right. Over the past eleven years Seamus and I had only seen a handful of the dead. The rocky terrain must have been too difficult for them to climb, and even if they did manage to get up here, the barrier my uncle had built around this place stopped them from getting too close. They usually got tangled in the barbed wire he’d looped through the brush at the base of the fence, which had made it easy to take out the few we had seen.
“The winter pretty much knocks them out anyway.” Sawyer let out a deep sigh. “It’s the only reason I’ve stayed up here instead of heading south. The snow’s a killer, but at least it freezes them. Living closer to town would be good for trading, but it’s too dangerous and not something I want to have to risk.”
Even though Seamus had always said the same thing, I couldn’t help wondering what exactly was so dangerous about town. They had a wall, that much I knew, and it seemed like they’d pulled together over the last eleven years. Like society was on its way to being rebuilt. But my uncle had always been elusive about the details when he’d told me that it wasn’t safe for me to go down.
“What’s so dangerous about town? I’ve never been and my uncle won’t tell me much. My memories from before are vague, but I do know that things are different now.”
Sawyer raked his hands through his hair and again I noticed how greasy it looked. He needed it washed, which was something I could help him with.
First though, I wanted information.
“It’s nothing like it used to be.” He stared at the floor and his frown grew deeper, like thinking about it made him sad. “Sometimes, I wonder if that world ever really existed at all.”
He let out a deep sigh, then sank into my favorite chair. I followed his lead, sitting on the couch across from him while I waited for him to tell me more. The expression on his face was sad, almost torn. It must have been hard for him to remember the past. I was only a child when it all ended, and even though the first few years had been rough, I barely remembered the before. This was the life I knew. But Sawyer was older, and he had to remember more.
“In the sanctioned towns, there’s a new government, but it’s different than the old one. The laws are harsh and justice is swift, but it’s less preventative than it should be. It’s like they don’t really care about stopping people from committing crimes, and most of the time things just feel lawless. I guess that’s why so many people choose to live in the unsanctioned areas, which is what the settlement closest to us is. They don’t get help from the government, so they’ve had to create their own society. Only, there isn’t really one person in charge and the laws they have set up don’t really work. There’s no one to enforce them, which means people get away with doing a lot of things that would have gotten them sent to prison before. Maybe some of the unsanctioned towns are better, or maybe this new government will pan out and the sanctioned areas will finally be worth looking into. From what I’ve seen though, I don’t have a lot of hope that it will get worked out any time soon.”
“My uncle told me it was dangerous, but that was it. He never told me things were that bad.” I shook my head, unable to believe that even after eleven years, things hadn’t gotten better.
“There are good people too, don’t get me wrong, but you have to be careful when you go in to trade. You need to act like you have nothing to your name. Some of the people there would follow you home and slit your throat without a moment’s hesitation, just for your supplies. If you have women, even better.” Sawyer’s mouth dropped open and he shook his head. “Shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”
Even though his words made my heart pound harder than the wind blowing around outside, I tried to hide it from him. “It’s okay. Seamus—that’s my uncle—has told me about those men. How they’d love nothing more than to steal my virtue. It’s why he won’t let me go.”
“Your virtue?” Sawyer frowned, then his eyebrows shot up. When his eyes met mine they were full of understanding, as well as something else I didn’t quite understand. Whatever it was, it made every hair on my scalp prickle.
He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair again. “Right. Anyway, I’ve been on my own for a few years now, so throwing my time into making a safe place to live has been my priority. It keeps me focused and my mind off the loneliness if nothing else.”
“Who were you with before?”
He looked away, but I was pretty sure I saw a bit of sadness in his eyes. “Just a friend.”
I didn’t believe for a second that the person he’d been with was just a friend, but since it was obvious talking about it hurt him too much, I let it go. Maybe being here for a little bit would be a welcome change for him. If he was trying to keep busy so he could forget, I could help him with that. There were lots of things to do around the cabin that would take his mind off… Whatever it was he didn’t want to remember.
“How’s your injury today?” he asked, his eyes still on the fire.
I shrugged, which hurt, but not as much as it had the day before. “I’m sore, I won’t lie. But it isn’t that bad.”
He nodded, and when he tore his gaze away from the fire and focused his blue eyes on me, he looked impressed. “You’re tough, I’ll give you that.” He stood and moved toward the fire, feeling the clean bandages that hung on the line. “They’re dry. We should clean the wound again, just to be on the safe side.”
“Yeah.”
Heat spread to my cheeks as I pulled my sweater over my head. The movement made my shoulder ache, and getting the much tighter long sleeve shirt off was even harder. I gnawed on my upper lip as tears sprang to my eyes, but refused to allow them to break free.
Sawyer turned my way just as I managed to get the shirt over my head. His eyes got huge. He swallowed, and his gaze swept over my bare breasts before I managed to cover them with my shirt. My whole body flushed, from my icy toes to the top of my head, where my scalp prickled in a way that wasn’t totally uncomfortable. Something about the expression in his eyes shot right through me, and a part of me wanted the feeling to go on and on. I wanted to drop the shirt to the floor and sit naked in front of this man so he could study every inch of me.
But I didn’t.
Sawyer inhaled slowly and deeply, letting it out only seconds later. By the time he came over to sit next to me, the expression I had seen was gone and I started to wonder if it had ever been there to begin with.
Without a word he began to unwrap my bandages. Warmth moved through me and I held my breath. Twice Sawyer’s hands brushed my breast, but I could tell it was accidental. Just like the day before he never tried to touch me, and in that moment I decided I could trust this man. It would probably be a while before he stoppe
d making me nervous, and I didn’t plan on telling him right away that my uncle was missing, but I could now accept the fact that Sawyer didn’t want to do me harm.
He cleaned the wound and recovered it, and the whole time we sat six inches apart, never saying a word. When the fresh bandages were finally secure, he sat back, and his eyes moved over me one more time before he let out a deep breath. Then he stood and cleaned up, heading into the kitchen without a word.
When he came back, I stood. “I can wash your hair if you want.”
“Really?” He cocked his head to the side and a smile tugged at his lips.
“I make soap,” I said with a nod. “I used to wash my uncle’s hair, so it’s no big deal.”
“Used to?” Sawyer’s eyebrows pulled together.
Instantly, I realized the mistake I’d made and forced out a laugh as I headed into the kitchen. “He’s practically bald now, so he just shaves it off. Says it’s easier.”
It was amazing how natural the words came out. I didn’t have much practice at lying, so I’d never expected to be so good at it. There had never been the need between Seamus and me.
I started a fire in the stove, then set a pot filled with water on top. In the pantry I found the small washbasin, as well a bar of pine soap and a towel. While I waited for the water to warm up, I got everything else ready. Sawyer watched from the doorway as I moved across the room, his blue eyes so intense that I had to keep my eyes down. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I knew that he was making me nervous. He was watching me so closely, like he was memorizing every move I made or every line of my body.
By the time I went back into the kitchen and found steam rising from the pot, I was trembling from his gaze.
Chapter 7
SAWYER
In the kitchen, Lucy carried a pot over to the table. Steam rose off it, swirling around her face. Her cheeks were pink and lively, and her skin snow white and perfect. The rest of her was too. At least the parts I’d seen. The image was going to be burned into my brain, and I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t like it. I did. I fucking loved it. Loved how she looked and how warm her body had felt under my hands as I’d dressed her wound.
“Ready?” she asked from the doorway.
She had taken the sweater off and the shirt she had on now was fitted, conforming perfectly to her curves. It left little to the imagination, and thankfully I had seen enough to fill in the gaps. A part of me knew it was a very bad idea to allow this woman to put her hands on me, but not only did I desperately want to be clean, but I also wanted her to do it.
“Sure,” I said, almost cringing at the way my voice caught in my throat.
Lucy motioned for me to come to the table. One of the chairs was turned around, and I sat in it so my back was to the basin. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, and a second later Lucy’s fingers ran through my hair, starting at my forehead, then moving to the back of my head. It was possibly the best thing I’d felt in years, and I had to bite back a groan. It wasn’t easy, and it got even harder when she poured a cup of warm water over my head. Her fingers ran through the strands a second time and this time I let out a deep sigh.
“Feel good?” Lucy asked.
“You have no idea.”
Her hands left my head and I cracked one eye long enough to see her rubbing a bar of soap between her hands. It smelled like the forest, fresh and piney, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come across scented soap. Probably ten years ago. These days, almost everything stank, especially down in the settlement. Another good reason to stay up in the mountains.
Lucy worked her fingers through my hair again, rubbing and scrubbing and massaging until the moan I had managed to keep in before broke out of me. I didn’t care though, because this was the best thing I’d felt in years. Her hands on me felt like magic, but they also had my mind wandering to how they would feel on other parts of my body. How she would feel under my hands, spread out on her bed, naked and mine to explore. It was impossible not to picture it, and when I opened my eyes and her gaze met mine, the images only became more graphic.
She swallowed and whispered, “Let me just rinse it out.”
All I could do was nod, and she didn’t look away for even a second as she poured cup after cup of warm water over my head.
When my hair was finally rinsed out, she broke the hold her gaze had on me and grabbed the towel. She covered my wet hair with it and I sat up, ready to take it from her. Only she wasn’t finished. She ran the towel over my head, massaging my scalp again. With me sitting up like this, she was so close to me that I could feel her body heat. Her breasts were right in front of my face, close enough that one nearly brushed my nose. My pants, which had gotten tighter while she was running her fingers through my hair, now threatened to split at the seams. I wanted to pull her against me, to feel her little body with mine and to kiss her. To strip her down and show her everything she’d been missing out on up here in the mountains.
“Lucy.” When I said her name, it came out strangled and needy. I hadn’t planned on saying it, so I couldn’t get anything else out, and even if I could I wouldn’t know what to say.
I must have startled her because she dropped the towel. I reached out, meaning to touch her, but halfway there realized that would be breaking a promise I’d made. Instead, I picked the towel up off the floor and stood, forcing Lucy to take a step back.
“Were you going to say something?” She tilted her head, and something about her curious, brown eyes made me think of Lisa.
Why, I wasn’t sure. Lisa’s eyes had been brown, but a much deeper color. Dark chocolate to Lucy’s desert brown. Still, a memory or feeling clawed at my brain, trying to break free, and no matter how hard I tried to push it back I couldn’t. Before I knew it, it was there, showing itself to me in all its painful glory. Lisa and me, lying in bed after that first passionate night. She’d stared at me with this same look in her eyes, like she was trying to read my mind, and for the first time in two years I’d felt hopeful that life could be good again.
Too bad it hadn’t lasted.
The pain inside me was so intense that I had the sudden urge to cry. It had been years since I’d cried, and there was no way I would let myself do it now. Especially not in front of Lucy.
When I swiped my hand through my wet hair, a few drops of water fell to my chest. Lucy’s eyes moved down, following the drops as they made their way to my stomach, then continued their journey all the way to the trail of hair peeking out of my pants.
The ache inside me hadn’t lessened, but the sudden urge to take Lucy in my arms and do whatever I could to forget it was almost as strong as the hurt was. But wasn’t that what had happened between Lisa and me? It was, and look how that had turned out. It had ruined her and nearly destroyed me, and there was no way in hell I ever wanted to go through anything like that again.
I needed to put some distance between us.
I took a step back and cleared my throat. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to use the facilities. It’s been a while since I had the luxury of going inside.”
I forced out a smile, trying to mask the pain that was threatening to burst out of me. It must have worked because Lucy nodded.
“Of course. Why don’t I get you some real clothes to wear since yours are wet? Seamus wouldn’t mind at all, and it could be a couple hours before yours are dry.”
All I could do before I turned and headed into the other room was nod.
Chapter 8
LUCY
My heart was pounding so hard it took me a few seconds of breathing slowly to calm it. I had no idea what my body was doing, but I found myself wanting Sawyer to touch me. When he’d reached out to pick up the towel, I could have sworn he was going to grab me and pull me against him, and when he hadn’t, I’d felt disappointed.
Maybe I’d read too many romance novels over the years. In them, people were always falling madly in love with just one look, but that couldn’t be normal. And I knew
I didn’t love Sawyer. I wasn’t that naïve. I was interested in him. Drawn to him, even. He was beautiful, but sad, and I knew something had happened to make him move into the mountains all alone. I had a feeling it had to do with the person he claimed had just been a friend.
When I went into my uncle’s room I was still thinking about the beautiful man who had stumbled upon me in the woods, saving my life. It made me smile, because despite everything, it did feel like a story straight out of one of my romance novels. Hadn’t I fantasized about this very thing dozens of times? Yes, but at the same time, I’d never really thought anything like this would happen.
I opened the bottom drawer in Seamus’s dresser and the familiar scent of pine soap drifted out. It was the same kind I’d just used on Sawyer’s hair, but something that I’d made especially for my uncle. In the kitchen I’d been too distracted by the gorgeous man to be affected, but now, surrounded by my uncle’s things, the scent of pine caused a crack to cut across my heart. Over the last few weeks I’d barely allowed myself a moment to think about the fact that Seamus may never return. I’d focused instead on surviving, on making sure I remembered all the stuff he’d taught me so I wouldn’t let him down. But sitting on the floor of his bedroom with the smell of pine floating around me, I couldn’t stop the tears from coming.
Grabbing a pair of pants, I pressed them to my nose and took a big whiff. Tears fell from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks, and the soft tremors of sobs shook my shoulders. It felt like my heart was going to break in two, remembering my uncle and his easy chuckle. The firm tone of his voice when he’d taught me the skills I needed to survive, the softness in his eyes when I’d cried over the loss of my mom. Seamus hadn’t been affectionate with me, but he’d loved me and I’d always known it. He’d done his best to protect me and give me everything I needed, and in the end he’d been the best parent a girl could have when the end of the world came.