by Emily Bishop
It does not escape me that I left a beautiful woman in my kitchen so that I could go pet my snake. In reality there is a much different snake that needs petting, but that’s not for her to handle. I can handle myself just fine.
My hand is the only one I’ll trust. Besides, how do I know she’s not here for the money? A man can only be fooled so many times. I’ve worked damn hard to not be that fool.
Milly unfurls from her bed, ready to hunt for some food. I have a few fresh rodents ready for her to eat, but I’ll have to find a way to get them to her without scaring…
“Hey, I plated the food, if you’re hungry.”
I glance up to see Rayne standing in the doorway. The light around her reflects in such a way that it casts a halo around her head. With her blond hair, I almost believe that she’s some kind of angel, but I come to my senses.
She is nothing but a nuisance I need to be rid of, once the snow passes. That’s all. Milly lifts her head farther, and Rayne sees her for the first time.
Uh oh. This woman was on the ground shivering when she thought I was some kind of animal. The snake will likely drive her away.
Is that such a bad thing, really?
“Ooh, who is this?”
I’m shocked as Rayne walks over to the tank, reaches in and strokes Milly’s body as the snake continues her path onward in search of dinner.
“Uh, that’s Milly.”
The only female I trust, I don’t say.
“Hi, Milly,” she coos. The snake retreats into the little cavelike hidey-hole I created for her in the tank, and when Rayne meets my stunned gaze, she laughs.
I haven’t heard laughter in a long time. I forgot how nice it is.
“You don’t have to look that surprised. I’ve always had a fondness for lizards and reptiles. I think they’re fascinating.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Then you won’t mind watching her eat?”
She winces and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’ll bring our bowls back to the living room. If you can feed her anywhere else, that would be appreciated.”
“Duly noted,” I say.
I’ve cooled off enough to stand safely, no boner in sight. Rayne disappears, and I make my own exit, only to return with a mouse a couple minutes later. I pop it into the tank.
I don’t hang back to watch Milly eat. I’d like to have an appetite for my own meal, after all, and now I’m quite famished myself. When I enter the living room, Rayne is perched on my couch, her bowl on the edge as she waits for me to join her. Mine is on a table next to my favorite recliner, and I join her by the fire.
“Thank you for the meal,” I say.
We can go ahead and skip over any conversation about what happened in the kitchen.
Please tell me she’s in agreement about that. Please.
She meets my gaze and grins. The meaning is clear. She gets it. Thank God.
“No problem. You might want to wait to thank me until you try it, though.”
“Have you?”
“Not yet. I wanted to wait for you.”
I ignore the warm feeling that blossoms in my chest at that comment. I nod and pick up my bowl, which is loaded with veggies atop a steaming bowl of noodles. I twirl them onto and fork and take a bite.
It’s a simple meal, but it might be my new favorite.
“This is outstanding. How did you know to mix this combination?”
Rayne shrugs and takes a bite of her own, tasting it to see if she likes what she’s created. She looks like a professional, evaluating or critiquing for flavors.
“I have some knowledge of flavor pairings, at least in this realm. The truth is, I’m not a chef, per se. I’m a baker, but I am passionate about food and cooking.”
“You must be, to own that many restaurants.”
Rayne clears her throat. Clearly, she wants to keep things on the down-low. If there is anyone in the world who can understand that, it’s me.
“How long have you been into reptiles?” I ask.
It seems like a safe enough topic, and her closed expression breaks open with a gentle grin.
“As long as I can remember. My dad had this snake he kept at his office. I named him Charlie, and I would visit him and play with the snake all the time. One time, I left the office door open and my dad’s secretary screamed as the snake slithered across her shoe.”
She smiles at the memory, then her eyes darken.
“Anyway, that was a long time ago, and when it first started. When did you get Milly?”
I shrug. It’s clear neither of us is prepared to give too much away, but we have to be able to talk about something. If she’s able to dance around the sensitive information, then so am I.
“A man can get lonely in the mountains, even in the splendor of nature, surrounded by books. I found that I lacked companionship, but other animals are too high maintenance. I don’t want to have to let a dog out all the time, and a cat means clean-up as well. If I let them roam the woods around here, there’s always the risk they’ll get eaten by something. Milly was for sale a town over when I stopped in at a pet store, so I took her home with me.”
“Does she like living here?’
I shrug. “I think so. I imagine she would much rather live in a jungle somewhere, but since she’s already been in captivity, it would be dangerous to try and reintroduce her. Also, I’m not quite ready to commit to a trip to Africa to bring her back to her native environment.”
“Right. Because that would be pretty high-maintenance.”
I smile, and I’m stunned to realize that it’s a genuine smile. “Yes. Very high-maintenance.”
“You like things simple.”
Oh, if only you knew. “Simple is good, certainly. It’s been my mantra since coming here, to keep things from complicating, and it’s been a nice existence. I think you’ll find you like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” She drops her gaze again, eats more of the food.
“You never did tell me whether this trip was business or pleasure. Are you a writer, here to finally get that manuscript finished?”
Her lip twitches, but there’s something hidden behind her eyes. “I wanted to get away for a little while. My life can get a little hectic at times, so I find that time away rejuvenates me and sets me back to rights before I jump back in.”
Bullshit.
Still, I nod as though I accept that answer. If she was looking for a convenient getaway, why did she have her driver drop her far from the actual cabins? She doesn’t strike me as terribly adventurous. Based on her clothing and the fact that she can afford this place, Rayne is used to a certain style of living.
One that doesn’t involve hiding one’s tracks in the woods.
A flash of light darts past my peripheral vision, and I look out the front windows. There is nothing there now, but I could have sworn I saw something.
“What? What is it?” Rayne’s gaze follows mine to the window.
“I thought I saw a light or something, but it must have been a trick of the eyes.”
When I look back at Rayne, she’s gone pale as ash.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Are you sure it was your imagination? Are you sure there couldn’t be anyone out there?”
Her voice raises a pitch, and her eyes dart around as though she’s frantic. I leave my food on the side table and move next to her.
Just having a relaxing retreat, my ass. Something is seriously scaring this woman. But what?
“Hey, relax. The woods can play tricks on the eyes. Also, it’s still snowing. It was probably a snowflake in the reflection of the light in here.”
“Are you sure?”
Her eyes search mine, and they are desperate for answers. I can’t help myself. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Her skin is clammy, her body tense. I run my hand along her back until she calms down.
“You’re right, of course. Just consider me another city girl in the dark woods,” she says with a forced laugh.
I
pull away but leave my hands on her elbows as I search her eyes. I give her a chance to tell me what it is that’s going on with her, but after a moment, she breaks eye contact and develops a keen interest in the back of her hands.
I glance at my clock and realize it’s late. “We should get some sleep. You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch.”
Relief passes through her expression even as she protests. “I couldn’t possibly impose…”
Her eyes dart to the window, and I know she wants to be as far away from the door as possible.
“I insist, really. There are fresh linens in the closet. Please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll show you one of your many cabins in the morning, and you can get on with that relaxation.”
I don’t know if she can sense the sarcasm in my voice, but she doesn’t register it if she does. Rayne nods and rises off the sofa, breaking our contact. I can’t help but feel a little bereft, and that annoys me.
This woman is clearly hiding something, which means she’s already lied to me.
“Goodnight, Lorn, and thanks.”
I nod, and I stare ahead as she closes the bedroom door behind her.
Who is this woman? And what is her real motive for being here?
Chapter Five
Rayne
When I wake up, it’s the first night I haven’t had a nightmare in more than a year. I stretch and pull a pillow to my face.
The scent of cotton and pine floods my senses, and my eyes shoot open.
Bright light pours in through a side window and cascades over the bed I’m in. Lorn’s bed. I try not to imagine what it would be like to have him in here next to me, possibly stark naked. My belly flutters at the thought.
Then I remember the real reason I’m here. Getting lost in the woods. Needing space to be alone, to think out a plan.
The door creaks open, and Lorn peeks through.
“You awake?”
“Yeah,” I say, though my voice gives me away. I sound almost exactly like that creaky door.
Lorn presses the door all the way open, and I sit up to look at him. He crowds the doorway entirely. His body takes up nearly the entire frame. He has to duck to enter the room.
“Sorry, I need the bathroom.”
I glance to the side and realize that when I closed the door last night, I usurped the only bathroom he has.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to block it from you all this time.”
Lorn grins down at me. He walks by me and shrugs. “As you’ve so correctly pointed out, I am a woodsman. I know when to use the forest.”
My cheeks go red at the thought that I made him have to go to the bathroom in the cold while I was cozy and warm in his bed. No wonder he thinks I’m such an imposition.
As he closes the bathroom door, I scurry out and open the front door to check the weather conditions. The snow stopped falling sometime in the night, and there appears to be a few inches on the ground, but nothing unmanageable.
All around us, trees that once looked menacing now glisten with a fresh coating of winter snow. Sunlight casts rainbows across the smooth swath of untouched snow. While the seclusion last night was a little scary, in the light of day, it now feels comforting, reassuring.
Necessary.
Footsteps approach from behind, and Lorn’s presence hovers at my back. I repress a shiver and turn to look up at him.
“Thank you, for everything.”
I wait for the snarky comment. I should have thanked him long before this, but I was so scared and frustrated and annoyed.
To his credit, he simply nods. “Happy to help our renters, as needed. Just don’t make it a habit.”
There’s a lightness to his words that belie their meaning. I think he would help me in any situation, were I to ask. I doubt he’d be thrilled about it, but he’d do it.
What kind of man is Lorn? He never gave me his last name either. Why? Is he hiding from something, too?
I’m ogling him as I consider all this. He’s changed into another black T-shirt. I can only tell that it’s new because the one he had on before was wrinkled from sleep. I need to get a grip, or I might die from embarrassment.
“I’ll try not to. Can I be shown to my cabin now?”
He nods. “Of course. Are you ready to head out?”
“Yes.”
I’ve been ready since the moment I kissed him and he pulled away. At that moment, if I could have run into the woods and never come out, that would have been my preference. As it was, I like warmth and comfort. Sue me.
Lorn steps back and hands me my jacket off the couch. I make quick work of slipping into my shoes, and when I step back out into the living room, Lorn is waiting by the front door with my suitcase.
“I can grab that,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“Trails are slick this morning with the fresh snow. You’d do better to focus on your footing. I can carry this.”
“Really…”
“Rayne, you don’t have to fight every attempt at civility.”
A twinge of annoyance pricks at my gut. He’s treating me like I’m incompetent, like one slip-up on the trail means I can’t walk properly at all. I fall for this guy only to be reminded of his arrogance.
It’s a good reminder of why I’m here, and what I shouldn’t be doing.
“Fine. Let’s go,” I say, tugging on my coat.
Lorn lifts an eyebrow at my cold tone, but he shrugs it off and opens the door. He pulls my suitcase behind him as he exits, and I follow at a small distance. Distance from Lorn is good. The closer I get to him, the more I want to run my hands all along his muscular body.
Not good.
He leads the way through the woods, and we are surrounded by a glimmering winter wonderland. Above us, the sunlight dances along the frosty branches, the world quiet in the cold as animals burrow down to keep warm. I inhale the scent of snow and fresh air, and I am rejuvenated.
It’s not that long of a walk, and a clearing opens up to another cabin, not so different from Lorn’s. He stops in front of the porch steps and turns to face me. In the cold, his cheeks have gone rosy, his eyes bright and glassy. This morning they look more green than brown.
Why does he have to be so damn attractive?
“I take it you can handle yourself from here?”
I nod and grab the handle of my suitcase. I carry it the rest of the way to my new front door for the next month and turn to look down at Lorn. It’s a new angle, being above him, and I kind of enjoy the sensation of having the higher ground.
“Where is the main cabin from here?” I ask.
“There’s a map in your cabin of the entire range, but if you head down that trail there, you’ll see it.”
“Thanks.”
“Yep.”
There’s a heavy silence where our kiss and any number of hidden things hang in the air between us. I turn and open the door and step in side, closing it behind me without another glance at Lorn.
It’s better that way.
Still, I press my back against the portal and listen for him to walk away. I hear nothing, but that’s not so unusual, I suppose. He may be large, but he seems perfectly able to use stealth in the woods.
I tell myself I’m glad he’s out of my hair. Now I can focus on what’s important.
The cabin is cold. I step back out and grab a few logs for my woodstove, noting Lorn’s absence. I place the logs into the stove and find a match and some kindling stored next to it, possibly from the previous tenant, possibly as a courtesy. Who knows?
I light the kindling and stoke the fire until it sustains itself, and then I step back, proud of myself.
I can so do this.
I drag my suitcase to the bedroom. It’s cold in here, too, and I’m hopeful that the fire works its magic soon. I lay the suitcase flat and unzip it. When I open the flap, the picture of my father rests atop a pile of neatly folded clothing.
“Hey, Dad,” I breathe. A small puff of steam escapes my lips, it’s so cold. I
take the picture in my gloved hands and sit back, staring at the image. In it, my father is young, his blond hair slicked back and his face frozen in a blissful smile. I like to remember him like this.
My last memory of him surfaces, as it so often does. I remember holding my breath, my heart frantic as I hid beneath his desk. The argument that happened right before the gun went off. My father falling to the ground. Those eyes…
I was twelve years old when I witnessed my father’s murder. I was forced to take the stand against the man who killed him and became the reason that man went to jail. Larry Corker, my father’s murderer, had been angry that my dad put his brother in jail for domestic assault.
Now, eleven years later, Larry’s been released on good behavior, and I have to figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I’ve changed my last name, which is something, but I’m not convinced that’s enough. I have a feeling, deep down, that Larry will come for me, that he’ll want his revenge for his brother and for himself, because my father stood up to them and forced them to face justice.
I release a sigh and start unpacking. I have time to figure this all out. I’ll find a solution out here in the safety of the remote. When I finish placing the last of my clothing in the dresser, I’m no longer chilled. The fire in the other room is healthy and pumping out heat, so I close the stove door and allow it to do its thing.
I pull out my cell phone and plug it in. I need to check my email and make sure the world isn’t falling apart in my absence. Maybe a little distraction wouldn’t be so bad, either. I need to stay tied to my world, the one I created for myself after my father’s death.
It’s the one thing that’s kept me sane all these years.
I open up my screen and flip to the Wi-Fi, only to find that one doesn’t exist.
Seriously?
I tap out then tap back in, refresh, try to find any form of internet connection, all to no avail.
Looks like I’ll have to go find that mountain man again, after all. Or at least someone at the main cabin to help. It doesn’t need to be him. Actually, it’s probably better if it isn’t him.
Already dressed for the outdoors, I step back outside into the sunny morning and start my path through the snow. Lorn pointed to a path straight ahead, so I take it, my boots caked with snow as I walk. By the time I reach another clearing, I already feel calmer. Being in nature might be better than medication. I’ll have to look into this.