by Nina West
But first....
It’s the last thing I want to do right now, and yet I’m compelled to get answers so I don’t spend the entire day in my head, concocting scenarios, none of them with happy endings for me.
I step into the stairwell where I can gain more privacy than out in the hotel hallways. Pulling out my personal phone, I find where I programmed his number—something I did the first day I started with him, for no other reason than because I wanted Henry Wolf’s phone number on my personal phone—and I hit Call.
And I hold my breath.
He’s not going to answer. Why would he answer? He’s probably already on a—
“Wolf.”
My heart stutters.
“Make it quick, Abbi. My plane is about to leave.”
How does he know it’s me calling? Does it show in the display? “I was just.... You’re leaving.”
“Is there a question?”
“Why are you leaving?”
“Because I have a hotel chain to run. I can’t do that from the wilderness.”
“But you said you were staying for the summer.”
“Things changed.” I can’t help but hear the sharp edge in his already abrupt tone.
“I’m on my way to work with the Outdoor crew.”
“Good. You got what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” What I wanted was for Henry not to break my heart by sleeping with another woman. I want to not feel like my insides have been torn out of my body, leaving this hollow ache behind.
He sighs. “You’re young and inexperienced and naive, Abbi. I knew better. I was just so overcome by stress, and you were there. And so easy.”
“Fuck you.” I can’t believe those two words slip out my mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever actually said them to anyone, not even Jed. But what’s more, I can’t believe the real, raw anger that laces them.
“Take care of yourself and enjoy Alaska, Abbi. Go and fuck a few more people. I know I will.” The line goes dead.
A sob tears out of my throat, and only then do I realize that I’m actually crying. God, I hate to admit it but Mama was right. I’ve seen Henry’s teeth now, and he delivers one painful bite. A one-minute phone call with Henry and I’m bawling in a stairwell.
Furiously wiping away my tears, I rush down the stairs to change my uniform.
For the first time truly aware that, for all its vast, rich wilderness, Alaska feels completely empty.
Chapter Sixteen
“Miss Mitchell.”
The moment Darryl Sykes lays soft gray eyes on me, the moment I see the slight shake of his head and hear his sigh, I know what he thinks of this entire arrangement. Fortunately for me, he chooses not to share that opinion with me. “Get on into the truck. But spray yourself with this first.” He tosses a can of bug spray in the air. I fumble with it before dropping it into the mud.
Darryl sighs again, this one louder and full of exasperation.
I offer him a smile of apology and then quickly douse myself from head to toe.
Mercifully, the uniform department had one pair of women’s steel-toe boots available. They’re two sizes too big and I feel like a clown, but they’ll work. So will the pair of men’s small pants that are loose but fitted enough not to fall off my hips. My Wolf Cove t-shirt fits, and if I roll up the sleeves of the Cove outdoor jacket, it’ll do.
All in all, I look like a little girl dressed in her daddy’s uniform, but I just have to grin and bear it until a size that fits me arrives. They said they’re shipping a few sets up from Seattle. Thankfully some Wolf Hotel locations believe in equal opportunity between sexes when it comes to outdoor maintenance.
We ride in complete silence, and I’m okay with that. Darryl doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who talks much. I’m guessing he’s in his late forties, wiry, with shaggy salt-and-pepper hair and a thick mustache over his lip. I’ve seen him leave on a fishing boat after shift every day, so I’m pretty sure he doesn’t live on the resort. He looks like the type of guy who sits in his living room alone with a bottle of Bud in one hand and TV remote in the other, happy not to deal with other humans.
It takes me a minute to realize that Darryl’s taking me to the exact clearing where Henry brought me that one time, and the second I do, a sharp pang stirs in my chest, of the fantasy I wish I could go back to, to forget the bitter disappointment that has followed.
Three trucks are lined side by side, and six big, muscular guys are busy chopping and stacking wood into the back of them. There’s clearly a “type” when they hired staff for the outdoor crew: strong and rugged.
A stir of nervous flutters spark in my stomach. Do they know I’m coming to work with them? What are they going to think? I wish I didn’t care so much about what other people think.
“Grab yourself a pair of gloves. You’ll be helping to stack wood today. We have a lot to replenish after the busy weekend and they’re calling for rain for the next few days, so we’ll be out here for most of the day.” Darryl eyes me warily. “Hope you’re up to it.”
I collect the pair of workers’ gloves, too large for my childlike hands, and slide out of the truck without a word, because it doesn’t matter what I say. Darryl has already made up his mind about me.
Connor sees me first, and it seems to catch him off guard because his face twists up in shock. Ronan, standing over a hunk of wood with an ax in hand, his jacket already peeled off despite the cool morning air, freezes midswing.
I don’t think I can deal with them today. Especially not when Ronan watches me with easy eyes and a relaxed smile, not an ounce of embarrassment. As if I didn’t walk in on him having sex with my roommates. As if I don’t know what he looks like beneath those clothes of his, how big his dick is when it’s erect, the kinds of sounds he makes when he’s turned on.
My cheeks flare with heat.
“Listen up, everyone. Abbi Mitchell will be joining us in the crew for the rest of the summer, or as long as she decides she wants to put up with you idiots.” A round of soft chuckles surrounds me. “I expect you all to treat her with respect. I better not hear anything different. Especially about you two.” He gestures at Ronan and Connor.
“Best behavior, Scout’s honor!” Connor promises, but that grin on his face makes me believe otherwise.
With that, Darryl climbs back into his truck and rolls away.
Great. That’s exactly how I want to be introduced to these guys. And now they’re all staring at me. Thank God for these baggy clothes.
I duck my head and trudge over toward the pile of chopped wood, my feet suddenly weighted down by my oversized boots.
“So, you got your sabbatical?” Connor hoists two large pieces of wood, one in each hand, seemingly with no effort.
I sigh, reaching down to grab a log. “Something like that.”
“You don’t look too happy about it.”
“I’m....” What am I? This is what I asked for, after all, when I foolishly tried to blackmail Henry. So, did I succeed? I still don’t know what’s happened to Michael, and I’m afraid to ask anyone. “I’m surprised is all. I didn’t really get much warning about the change.” I glance at the other guys, who I’ve seen around the lodge with Ronan and Connor, but I’ve never actually spoken to them. I can only imagine what they’ll be saying about me when I’m out of earshot.
Connor throws an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. “Well, don’t worry. Ronan and I’ll do all the hard work. You can just sit and watch if you want.”
When Ronan winks at me, I realize they’re not talking about crew work at all, and Ronan must have told him what happened in my cabin. Do they all think I like to watch people have sex now?
I shrug his arm off, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I can handle the hard work. I’ve worked on a farm all my life.”
“Oh, really.” Ronan chuckles and holds out the ax.
Seeing the challenge in his eyes, I march over and yank it from his grasp, silently thanking my assho
le boss for having the decency to teach me how to swing one of these while he seduced me into giving up my virginity.
Remembering the details from Henry’s lesson—how to stand, how far apart my feet should be, where to aim—I try to ignore all the doubting eyes on me and I bring the blade down on the line once, twice. The third time, two pieces of wood tumble off the platform.
“Damn! She can put out fires and split wood. I think I’m in love,” Connor bellows from behind me, followed by a round of claps and hollers.
I’m so proud of myself, I can’t keep the stupid grin from my face. I level Ronan with a look. “Where’s the next piece?”
He simply lingers there for a long, silent moment, a mixture of surprise and newfound respect reflected on his handsome face, before he heaves over another chunk of wood and sets it up for me. “Well, all right then.”
“And Ronan?”
“Yeah?”
“Leave me the hell alone, today. Please. It’s already been a bad day.” I beg with my eyes, hoping to appeal to his more basic human emotions, buried somewhere deep within that deviant body of his.
He says nothing, but the flicker that passes through his eyes makes me believe he might understand.
Chapter Seventeen
“Those green things, they don’t get any better when they’re cold.”
I drag my eyes up from the brussels sprouts on my plate to see Miguel’s wide grin. He’s making his rounds with a bin, loading in dirty dishes to take to the back.
The smile slides off when he sees my sullen expression. “What the matter?”
“Nothing. Just tired.”
“Right. I heard about that. So, you’re part of the crew now? Crazy. How’d that happen?”
I’ve seen the look on his face plenty of times already today. A lot of surprise, even more doubt. I sigh. Everyone’s been asking me that exact same question, along with “Why didn’t you go with Wolf? Doesn’t he need an assistant?” I give Miguel the standard answer that I’ve given to everyone else. “I knew my job as his assistant would only be a temporary one.”
“So, this is really what you want?”
“I like being outdoors. It’s what I originally applied for, so yes.” So, so long ago, it seems now. Back when all I wanted to do was get away from Jed and Greenbank, sure that I’d never get over him. Unable to so much as imagine looking at another guy.
Boy, was I wrong on so many counts.
“Well, then, I guess that’s good.” He pauses. “It’s a good look for you. It’s hard though.”
“Yeah.” I reach up to rub my shoulders. A full day of swinging an ax and loading wood, then unloading and stacking has reminded me how inactive I’ve been through the school year. I’m going to have a hard time getting out of bed tomorrow morning.
I could really use a massage.
“Hey, do you know—” I begin to ask about Michael but then stop myself abruptly. Miguel knows that Michael was with a girl two nights ago. If I ask flat-out, he may put two and two together, and I can’t risk anyone putting two and two together to equal Abbi was sleeping with Henry Wolf.
Henry has turned me into a paranoid freak.
But I need to know exactly what happened with Michael because no one has said a word about him being fired and shipped off yet.
Deciding on a more roundabout approach, I toy with my steamed rice and ask casually, “So, what’s the latest gossip? Anything interesting happening around here?”
Miguel shrugs. “Rachel came back.”
“Yeah. I know. She’s my roommate.”
“That’s right! I forgot. A cabin full of beautiful ladies.”
I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. After hearing how he refers to those “beautiful ladies” when he doesn’t think they’re around, his charm holds no power over me. “Anything else?”
“Nah. Same ol’ shit.”
I just don’t get it. Miguel would have heard about his roommate being fired, wouldn’t he?
Unless he wasn’t fired?
Do I dare hope that Henry was lying? Or maybe he changed his mind?
“You still eating?”
I offer Miguel a weak smile. “I might. Thanks.” My phone rings then, and I’m torn between relief that I can end my conversation with Miguel and annoyance that I have to deal with a call from home.
“See ya around, sweet Abbi.” Miguel winks and moves off to the next table with that swagger of his.
With a sigh, I answer. My day has already hit rock bottom. She can’t possibly make it any worse. “Hey, Mama. Sorry I didn’t have a chance to call back.”
“What on earth have you done to yourself, Abigail?”
I frown, unease sliding down my spine like a trickle of cold water. “What are you talking about?”
“There I was, mindin’ my own business at Sunday service and Mary Jane shows me a picture of my daughter looking like a jezebel!”
I don’t even know which Mary Jane she’s talking about—we know at least five—but now I’m panicking, especially given Henry’s threat. “What are you talking about?” For Mama to refer to me as a jezebel—a name that up until now has been reserved for Jed’s girlfriend—is serious.
“Some big event at that hotel you’re working at. There were pictures posted on that Tweeter thing.”
Oh. I heave a sigh of relief. “You mean from the grand opening?”
“Alls I know is you were in a skimpy black dress and those ridiculous shoes, and I could barely recognize you under all that muck on your face. And what on Gods green earth did you do to your hair! You’ve ruined it!”
I roll my eyes. I expected as much from her. “Mary Jane, who?”
“Lucy’s little sister.”
Of course. Lucy. The one who e-mailed me, asking about Alaska. I taunted her with a link to a picture of Henry, mainly so it would get back to Jed, so people would stop saying I’m heartbroken and want him back. “Why are they looking at Wolf Hotels on Twitter?” I already know the answer to that, before she gives it to me.
“They’re all obsessed with what you’re doin’ in Alaska and this boss of yours. And stop trying to change the subject.”
Of course they are. Because they don’t know the real him, like I so unfortunately do now. “I was required to wear that dress.” I stubbornly add, “And I don’t think I looked bad.”
“You had everyone’s tongues waggin’ around here. I can’t believe I had to defend my own daughter. What kind of employer would require you to dress like that as his assistant, you tell me that!”
She doesn’t really want to hear the answer to that.
And I don’t want to talk about Henry—or what I’ve been doing up here—with anyone, including Mama. “How are things in Greenbank? How’s Dad?” I haven’t talked to him at all since I got here, which isn’t entirely unusual. He’s not much of a phone guy and he’s hardly actually at home. I’ll have to call when I know he’s around. Basically, at sunrise, at lunch, or at dinnertime. Otherwise he’s in the fields or sleeping. The time difference is making it hard.
She heaves a sigh. “The usual. I haven’t been sleepin’ much, worryin’ about you.”
I hear the sound of her sucking back a sip of something. “You’re drinking coffee?”
“Just my usual cup.”
I roll my eyes again. “It’s almost ten at night over there, Mama. You’re not sleeping because of caffeine. Don’t be trying to give me a guilt trip about that.”
“I’m not givin’ you a guilt trip. If you feel guilty, then it must be because you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing.”
Good old manipulative Mama.
The crew strolls in then, all freshly showered and changed, and my spirits sink. I was hoping to avoid them for the rest of the day, to be honest. Not that they’ve been anything but civilized. Ronan was decent enough to leave me alone, and Connor made only a few mild sexual innuendos that actually made me chuckle.
But I’m exhausted and sore and all I wanted to do was grab a
quick bite to eat in peace and then go back to shower and curl up in bed.
Ronan and I lock eyes for a split second, but I avert my eyes quickly.
“Abigail! Are you even listening?”
“Yes!” I totally wasn’t listening.
“That place and those people are obviously no good for you. You’ve had your time to do whatever it is you needed to do, and now it’s time to come home, before you have major regrets. I’m sure Reverend Enderbey doesn’t like seeing his future daughter-in-law splashed all over the Internet, especially not dressed like that.”
I let out a loud groan of frustration. Every conversation with her is the same. She is relentless and delusional. She’s one of those people who thinks that if she keeps harping on a topic, she’ll eventually get her way. The worst part is, she usually does.
“For the last time, Mama,” I manage to get out through gritted teeth. “Jed and I are not getting back together. I don’t care if you’re right and he gets bored of Cammie. I don’t care if he changes his mind. I don’t want him back. I will never want him back.” It’s time to lay down the law, because I can’t keep dealing with this. I’ll go insane. “You want to know why I don’t call home more often? Why I avoid your phone calls? For this exact reason. I’m sick and tired of the broken record. I love you, but from now on, every time you bring Jed up, I will hang up the phone.”
“Abigail Margaret Mitchell, I am your mama and you do not speak to me like that.”
“Too bad, Mama. You’re not respecting my wishes and you won’t let me move on!” I’m not bothering to be quiet. I don’t care who can hear me anymore.
A strangled gasp fills my ear. “After all your daddy and I have done for you, paying for your schooling, raising you right, giving you everything you have, you have the nerve to speak to me like that.”
Here we go, the second stage of Mama’s guilt trip. “I appreciate all of that, but that doesn’t mean you get to make my decisions for me. I’m an adult now.”
“I don’t try to make your decisions. I simply try to guide you in the right direction!”
The right direction—to spend the rest of my life with my cheating ex-fiancé because it looks good for the Mitchell family that he’s the reverend’s son. It took me a while to realize that this is what it’s really about: our standing in Greenbank. Our standing with the church. She’s so caught up in that, she can’t see anything else.