Slow Burn (Rabun County Book 1)

by Lisa Clark O'Neill

  He stood, and Adeline glanced back toward him, dejection on her face. “This is bad.”

  It wasn’t good. “On the upside, that step down saved the rest of the cabin from flooding.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “Should I, like, get a bucket and start bailing or something?”

  “Given the fact that this property is maintained by a management company, I think your safest bet is to call them first and see what they have to say. They may not want you to do anything at all based on insurance considerations.”

  “Insurance again.” She sighed. “Uncle Bristol is going to kill me.”

  “For what? You didn’t bust the pipe.”

  “No, but I brought my apparent personal black cloud with me. I mean good God, how many accidents, mishaps and…” she gestured toward the standing water “household catastrophes happen to normal people over the course of a few weeks?”

  “I’d say that depends on the weeks in question, and on your definition of normal. I think if you ask most people, they can tell you about a time in their life when they seemed to be living under Murphy’s Law.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  Hearing the sudden weariness in her voice, he gave her good shoulder a squeeze. “I know it’s been a lot, but this isn’t your fault. The past few nights have been much colder than normal, and while I wouldn’t have expected a pipe to freeze if it were properly insulated, with the heater also on the fritz, it was just bad timing.”

  “It just feels like the universe is trying to send me a message that I don’t belong here.”

  Sutton didn’t like hearing that. “The universe isn’t sentient. Or at least isn’t trying to slide into your DMs.”

  “You know what I mean. And even if the universe isn’t communicating, other people are. Like that comment on my blog post about my accident. My first accident.”

  His brows drew together. “What comment?”

  “It’s nothing.” Drawing in a breath, she forced a half-hearted smile. “Just an internet troll.”

  “Can you tell me specifically what was said? Adeline,” he interrupted her obvious evasion before she could voice it. “Please.”

  She stopped just short of rolling her eyes. “I posted a couple photos that I took at the Driscoll house on the morning I fell, along with a short story regarding that being the end of my lucky streak in terms of never getting injured. A couple of other abandoned enthusiasts who I talk to regularly were joking around about it being overdue, join the club, etcetera, but one account that I’ve never interacted with before left a comment like That’s what you get for being where you don’t belong. Being that I’ve never had any previous communication with them, it struck me as rude. But it’s really a pretty mild troll by internet standards.”

  Maybe. But it still didn’t sit well with Sutton. “I hope you blocked them.”

  “Of course I did. And honestly, I didn’t mean to turn this into a woe is me fest. I, um, guess I should call Keith. The property manager. I’ll just use the landline.”

  Sutton watched her walk away, hating the helpless feeling that came from wanting to fix something he couldn’t. He understood the emotional turmoil when everything seemed to go wrong. Hell, he’d been dealing with that himself here lately.

  He heard her leaving a message, and guessed Keith wasn’t answering his phone. Sutton allowed himself a nasty thought about the quality of Caldwell’s property management, but didn’t vocalize it. Adeline didn’t need any additional negativity coming from him.

  “I feel like I should at least, what, take photos? Except that I don’t have my phone, because that is also broken.”

  “I’ll snap some pics,” he said. “Why don’t you go get your stuff together.”

  She hesitated a beat. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

  “You’re not, but I’m really hoping you will later tonight. So, get a move on, will you?”

  She finally laughed, even if it sounded hollow. “I guess one good thing about the bathroom being small and having absolutely no storage is that none of my things were ruined. Just the family vacation home.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  She disappeared into the bedroom, and Sutton pulled out his phone, took several photos of the flooded bathroom. As far as he could tell, it was the only room in the cabin with drywall, and all of that was probably going to have to be replaced. Maybe they could take the time to insulate the walls a little better when they did that.

  And speaking of insulation, Sutton wondered if they’d run the pipes through the wall or under the floor when they’d added on the bathroom. If they were under the floor, they’d be even more exposed to the elements since the cabin was raised several feet with only an open crawl space underneath. Maybe he should go check, take a few more photos for good measure.

  Sutton went outside, pulling his jacket collar up against the frigid air. He’d be damn glad when the weather went back to normal tomorrow. Walking around the side of the cabin, he located a lattice door that allowed access to the area beneath. It was only about five, maybe five-and-a-half feet high, so he was going to have to crab walk in order to avoid hitting his head. Sometimes, being tall had serious disadvantages.

  Pushing open the door, he was startled by the sound of something falling over. A trash can, he realized, after peeking his head inside. Apparently, this was where they were stored.

  Easing through the gap, he bent over, hauled the can back upright. Luckily it had a locking lid, so the contents hadn’t spilled out. He’d have to ask Adeline if he needed to drag it out to the road. He wasn’t sure about the day or details of the collection.

  Sutton started to move past it, but something on the ground beside the second trash can – or maybe it was for recycling – caught his eye. He reached down, pulling the folded notecard from where it was wedged partially beneath the can’s wheel. The outside was dirty, the writing too smeared to make out, and he started to chuck it into the trash before curiosity took hold. Giving into it, he opened the card and shook some loose soil from inside. The ink was faded, but legible.

  Bristol,

  Please accept this small token of appreciation from our team to you. It was a pleasure doing business with you, and we look forward to working with you again in the future!

  All the best,

  Shelby

  Caldwell Premier Mountain Properties

  Sutton frowned. Bristol Arrowood was Adeline’s uncle. But he thought that Adeline said her uncle hadn’t been back to Clayton in years, maybe not even since her grandparents sold out. It would make little sense for there to be a handwritten note addressed to him, a note which had clearly been attached to a gift, in the trash area beneath the cabin.

  Unless he’d been in town far more recently than Adeline knew.

  It was none of his business, really. And even if Bristol Arrowood hadn’t told his niece he’d been in town, that didn’t mean much.

  The language of the note was curious, however. The past tense was a pleasure coupled with that hopeful note about the future. Unless this was when he signed on with their property management team. But he wasn’t sure what future business there might be in that scenario.

  Tapping the card against his palm, Sutton wondered whether it was best to toss it or show it to Adeline. Deciding to decide later, he shoved the paper into his jacket pocket. He’d just started toward the back of the cabin when he heard her muffled scream.

  Shooting up, Sutton banged his head, but didn’t allow the sharp pain to slow him down. Knocking the trash can over again as he scrambled out, he rounded the corner at a run, and took the front steps two at a time. The front door was cracked, and he threw the screen door open and raced through it. Spotting the bulky shape of a man just inside the bedroom, where Adeline stood holding a shirt over her breasts, Sutton charged.

  When he hit him, the man crashed into the bed before they both fell to the ground.

  “Oh my God,” Adeline said, while the
man beneath him bucked and attempted to roll.

  “Get off me.”

  “Sutton, no. Jesus, don’t hurt him! This is my fault. Sutton. Sutton.” She clapped her hands in front of his face. “This is Keith. Keith. He’s the caretaker.”

  Her words penetrated the fog of rage that had clouded his vision. Breathing hard, his eyes began to focus on the back of the man’s balding head, and he slowly lifted the knee that he’d pressed against his spine.

  At the first opportunity, the man crawled away and flipped over. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he aimed a glare at Sutton. “What the hell?”

  Blood still coursing with adrenaline, it took him a moment to clear his mind enough to respond.

  “I heard Adeline scream,” he managed, and then dragged a hand down his face before bracing it on the bed. He used it to help himself stand.

  “My fault,” Adeline repeated, struggling to get her bad arm into the sleeve of her sweater and keep herself covered at the same time. “I’m partially deaf, and I didn’t hear the knock.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Sutton said, feeling like an ass. “I’m sorry, man.” He extended a hand to help Keith up. “I overreacted.”

  Keith stared at his hand before accepting it. Gaining his feet, he brushed a hand over his thinning hair to settle it back into place. “I guess I can understand how it looked bad. What with her half-dressed and all. I apologize for walking in on you, ma’am.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, although her cheeks turned red. “No harm done.”

  “No harm done here, either. Well,” he rubbed his jaw again. “Not much anyway.”

  Sutton hoped the man wasn’t inclined to sue. “If you need to get checked by a doctor –”

  “Shee-it. Excuse me, ma’am. I may be a little past my football-playing years, but if I can’t handle a tackle, I might as well hang it up. Even if it was dirty.”

  Sutton winced, but the other man held up a hand. “You don’t need to keep apologizing. But I would like to have a look at that bathroom now, see what’s what. And you said the heater is out too, ma’am?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Figures everything just goes in the crapper all at once. I think those other cabins are rented for the upcoming holiday, overflow from that hotel up the road, but do you need me to see about you staying in one of them for a few days while we get this sorted out?”

  “She’s staying with me,” Sutton said.

  “All right then. And before I forget, I have that wood post out in my truck. You want me to bring it in here or take it with you?”

  “What post?” Sutton wondered at the same time Adeline said “Take it with us, if you don’t mind.”

  “It’s one of them growth charts,” Keith said. “Was on a support beam from the old inn up in Clayton.”

  “My family’s,” Adeline explained. “Beckett Caldwell gave it to me.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ADELINE watched Sutton re-secure the plastic tarp around the beam, making sure that it was wrapped up tight before he hauled it from the bed of his truck.

  “Do you want some help?” she offered, adjusting her duffel bag on her shoulder.

  “You could open the door for me.” He handed her his keys.

  “I like the little plastic dog,” she said, studying the chain.

  “My sister,” he muttered, and then turned back around.

  Adeline wasn’t sure whether he was indicating it had been a gift, or making a comparison. Pursing her lips, she went to unlock the back door to the clinic, and then held it open. “Are you certain I can’t help carry it?”

  “It’s not that heavy.”

  “Good,” she said as he walked inside “because coupled with that enormous chip on your shoulder, you’d really be weighed down.”

  Sutton sat down the beam and then turned to face her. “Excuse me?”

  “Either this is Groundhog Day, and we’re going to keep revisiting that pushing Adeline away theme, or you’re just pissed and doing a bad job of hiding it.”

  He stared at her for several seconds. “You’re really damn direct.”

  “I am, aren’t I? That’s new. I used to be a lot more conflict avoidant, since that was the only way I could have a pleasant relationship with my father, but I’ve realized that’s a bullshit way to live. I haven’t known you that long, but it’s been long enough for me to recognize when you’re about to implode. It’s the growth chart, isn’t it? You went mute as soon as I mentioned Beckett Caldwell’s name.”

  Sutton paced back and forth in the hall before stalking toward her and lifting his hair away from his forehead.

  “See that scar?”

  “Can you bend down a little?”

  “Jesus –”

  “The lighting is bad, okay? And our heads are basically in different zip codes.”

  He bent down, and Adeline studied the jagged white line.

  “Beckett split open my scalp with a broken beer bottle. It would have been my throat, but he was drunk and his aim was bad.”

  Adeline looked back up. “What happened?”

  “He… you know what, if we’re going to get into this, I’d really like to have a drink. Shut that door though, please. Colonel Mustard is somewhere around here, and I don’t want him to escape.”

  Sutton used the keypad to open the secondary door that led into the clinic, propping it open with a rubber stopper. He then picked up the beam, carrying it into the breakroom. Adeline closed the door and followed, sitting her bag down on the table. Sutton tossed his coat aside before opening a filing cabinet. Adeline’s brows went up when he took out a bottle.

  “You keep whiskey in there?”

  “It was supposed to be for after opening day,” he said. “I put it in there to hide it from Willow – who has limited understanding of personal boundaries – because this is her favorite brand. It’s from a distillery up the road.”

  He washed out a coffee mug, and then loosened the bottle cap. “Would you like some?”

  “I don’t… actually, yes,” she said, changing her mind. She removed her coat and hung it on one of the chair backs. “Are you going to make coffee to put it in?”

  “Wasn’t planning to.” He poured a healthy amount, and then took down another mug. “These are the only drinking vessels that I currently have. However, if you’d like some, I’ll be happy to make it for you.”

  “No. Please don’t bother.”

  “Cheers, then.”

  He handed her the mug, clinked his against it, and then threw the contents back.

  Adeline took a sip of hers and nearly choked.

  “Puts hair on your chest,” he told her.

  “Just what I’ve always wanted.” Determined, she tried it again, with much the same reaction. “I guess I’m not much of a drinker. What?” she said when the smile slid from his face.

  He studied her for a moment. “Let’s sit down. I’d rather get this out here than bring the… bad energy, I guess you could say, into the apartment.”

  Aside from a table and chairs, there was also a beaten-up but quite comfortable leather sofa in the room, which he’d told her the other day was where he planned to catch a nap if he had to stay up overnight with a really sick patient.

  Sutton joined her on the couch, stretched out his yard of legs. And then surprised her. “Have you gotten any sort of impression, the times you’ve been around Beckett?”

  “You mean like wow, he comes off as a spoiled jerk at first, or…”

  “Or,” Sutton said.

  So, he wanted to know if she thought he was evil. “You want the truth?”

  He nodded.

  “I had a… reaction, I guess, the first time I met him. But I think it was because my emotions were running high when I saw what had become of the inn. But when I spoke with him at his office, aside from being really angry at what I interpreted as callousness at first, I wasn’t left with a bad impression. In fact, I was surprised by his consideration.” She studied his face. �
�That isn’t what you wanted me to say.”

  “I wanted the truth.” He glanced at her mug. “Are you going to finish that?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Good.” He threw back that one, too.

  “Doesn’t that burn?”

  “Oh yeah. Good stuff.”

  “What did Beckett do?”

  “If you’d asked me a couple of weeks ago, I would have been able to answer that pretty easily.” Sutton pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I’m… reevaluating my version of events.”

  “Because of me.”

  “Among other things.”

  Adeline felt a lump form in her throat. That he’d asked was enough, but the fact that he didn’t appear to be doubting her was her undoing.

  “I’m not always right,” she reminded him. “It’s not like a muscle that I can work out and make it stronger. And some people are probably better at disguising their… sociopathy, I guess.”

  He rolled his head along the back of the couch, meeting her gaze. “Would it be all right with you if we didn’t talk about this now?”

  “Of course. Although I have to admit that my curiosity is in overdrive.”

  Reaching out, he brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “You have the prettiest skin.”

  “I look like paste. Freckled paste.”

  “Whipped cream with a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

  The corners of her mouth quirked up. “Are you drunk?”

  “No. I come from good Scottish stock. I’d be excommunicated from my family if I were that much of a lightweight. I’m just… relaxed.”

  Adeline’s gaze traveled down the length of his body, from his messy hair to his crossed, booted feet. “I can see that.”

  “I like when you look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want to jump me the way you did the first time we kissed.”

  Adeline felt her cheeks heat, even as she laughed. “What can I say? You’re hot.”

  “And getting hotter by the minute.” To her shock, Sutton dragged her over until she was astride his lap. The snaps and frissons that she’d begun to get used to whenever they touched, ramped up to another level. Adeline rolled her shoulders as she experienced a full body shiver.