Cassie realized she truly hoped he would sleep peacefully. Something about this man made her want him to heal from his unbearable loss.
* * *
Luke ached from head to calves when he sat up in the tiny bed and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. How long had he slept this time? He had no concept of time in his windowless prison room. Last he remembered, he was spilling his guts to Cassie about Maggie. What had prompted that much revelation? He rarely talked about that day to anyone.
Sitting up was a chore, harder than training a horse to saddle and rider. Hell, much as he hated calling that process breaking a horse, he felt like the one who had been broken this time. A shiver made him aware he was half-naked. He’d been the one to strip off his clothes after that nightmare. He had finally warmed up, but being out from under the covers reminded him that he was at twelve thousand feet, near a mountain pass, in a cold-ass cabin.
Damn, but Cassie kept this place glacial, despite the space heater she’d left running for him in here. No wonder she wore so many layers of clothes. He needed to work on that fireplace blower today. He hoped it wouldn’t require any parts he couldn’t fashion himself out of whatever she had laying around.
What day was it? His internal clock had been broken, too. Noticing a floor lamp for the first time, Luke flipped the switch, but didn’t see a clock in the room. He glanced around the seriously utilitarian bedroom. He thought his house was bare of ornamentation, but at least his mom had put some of her soft touches here and there—chenille bedspread, fake flowers in pots in the kitchen, even the bowl of seashells in his bathroom that he’d collected at Galveston Beach on a rare vacation when he was nine. Momma was sentimental about things like that and had kept them all those years.
Cassie’s bedroom was small and dark and had no mementos whatsoever to hint at her past. Kind of reminded him of how a monk or nun lived in the olden days. Hell, even they probably had more personal touches in their rooms than he saw in this one. The only splashes of color came from the Indian blankets on her bed. The geometric patterns in vibrant greens and reds on one blanket counterbalanced the somber blacks and whites of another. He wondered if she’d made them herself. No, probably not. They looked like heirlooms. And at daVinci’s bar, she’d said fiber art was new to her.
Then again, she might have used a loom back in her home country—Bolivia? No, Peru. Many people made a distinction between creating functional items like blankets as opposed to artwork only to be displayed on a wall but never used. He didn’t agree with that thinking. He preferred creating pieces of art that would be useful items as well, like the furniture he made for his and other people’s homes, or even play equipment for the Masters at Arms kink club. Somehow, he could see Cassie feeling the same way about functional art—even if she only enjoyed the art herself at home.
But she had done that gallery exhibition of her paintings months ago, so clearly she wanted to share her art. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen many decorations on her walls anywhere in the cabin, so maybe her art was only created to be shared with or sold to others. Not for her to enjoy.
In this room, the cabin’s chinking and logs provided the only wall adornment. Hell, who slept in a room without a window? Did she enjoy living in a cave? More like a tomb. How could someone living on a gorgeous mountain peak want to be so closed off from all that beauty? If he’d built this place, he’d not only have a window, but a skylight above the bed so he could watch the stars come out at night and make their trek across the sky.
He shook his head to clear it of his fanciful notions. How Cassie chose to live was none of his business.
Luke grabbed his shirt from the ladder-back chair beside the bed, again showing she had an appreciation for functional art. Next, he pushed his feet and legs into his jeans. With a grunt, he rose and waited for the expected dizziness to hit. When it didn’t, he figured maybe the worst of the concussion was behind him. He tucked his shirt into his jeans before zipping and buttoning them closed.
Luke’s stomach growled, taking his attention away from the chill in the room. His appetite had returned full force. Steak and eggs sure would hit the spot this morning.
Luke entered the frigid living room and glanced around. No Cassie. He didn’t hear any sounds from the kitchen, either. She must be in the shed with her alpacas, or maybe she’d gone to her studio. He’d like to see where she worked but wouldn’t invade that space the way he had the rest of her house. An artist’s place of work was sacred, deeply personal, and no one should enter without an explicit invitation.
Somehow, he didn’t expect that invite to be forthcoming anytime soon. She was one private person. Hell, so was he. The only time anyone had been in his studio was when he needed help moving a covered piece to his truck for delivery.
The fire had died down—whether because he’d asked or from neglect, he didn’t know. Had she slept in her studio? She sure as hell hadn’t shared that bed with him. He hoped she’d been warm wherever she had bedded down. Tonight, he’d take the floor in here and let her have her bed back.
But his first order of business was rustling up some breakfast—or whatever meal it was time for. Then he’d take the insert apart and see what the problem was with the blower. Maybe he could have some decent heat blazing in this cabin soon.
Although, Cassie sure seemed to prefer the cold. Must be from growing up in the Andes. Or maybe his body had softened in the comparatively warmer climes of West Texas? His stomach growled again, and he decided he’d eat before trying to find—or decipher—the woman who was Cassie López. A thorough survey of the contents of the fridge told him eggs wouldn’t be on the menu, and he wasn’t going to invade her freezer hunting for a steak without permission, so he ladled out a bowl of the delicious soup she’d served at his last meal. While it microwaved to a scalding hot temperature, he sliced off a thick slab of her amaranth bread. Soon, he sat down at the table and dug in, blowing on the spoonful of soup to cool it down. He took a tentative bite and closed his eyes.
Damn, but the girl could cook.
He’d been living out of cans and prepared boxed dinners for so long he appreciated every flavorful bite. After having his fill of a second bowl, he still had not seen or heard any sign of Cassie, so he decided now was the time to tackle that fireplace repair before his energy failed him again. He noticed the circuit-breaker box on the wall in the corner. She’d clearly labeled the circuits, and he cut the juice to the fireplace.
Thirty minutes later, he had the insert pulled away from the fireplace and quickly figured out what the problem was. Luckily, it was fixable using the tools he’d found in her kitchen drawer—exactly where his momma kept hers, too. Good thing. A run to the hardware store wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“What are you doing up?”
Luke glanced across the room to where Cassie stood covered shoulder to knees in her ever-present woolen poncho. She’d come from outside. Her studio must not be inside the cabin. Or maybe she’d been taking care of the alpacas.
“Fixing the insert’s fan.”
“You should not be doing that so soon.”
“Sorry, but I’m tired of freezing my ass off.” He heard how cranky he sounded and gave her a smile to soften his rant. “It was an easy fix. Besides, I’m almost good as new thanks to your wonderful care, darlin’.”
He expected her to bite his head off, but she merely took a deep breath. Maybe she was warming up to him and his endearments. He wiped the grin off his face before he pissed her off—again.
“You should be in bed.”
“Spent enough time in bed already. I need to do something useful.”
He stood from his kneeling position and shoved the stove insert back into the fireplace with both hands and his shoulder as if shoving a blocking sled down a football field. His upper body strength was pitiful at the moment, but it slammed home, and he stood, working out a kink in his shoulder. Man, he was seriously out of shape.
“Now, I’ll turn the
circuit back on, and we’ll build a fire we can enjoy together this afternoon.”
“I do not have time to sit by the fire.”
“Then why don’t you let me help with your chores to free up some time?”
“I can take care of my obligations, Lucas.”
“Call me Luke.”
“I prefer Lucas.”
Probably because she wanted an air of formality between them, even though they were sharing the same house. Hell, they’d even shared the same bed a couple of nights. He grinned at the memory. Luke was all about tearing down the barriers between them. She might come across as a prickly-pear cactus, but Luke sensed it was all a façade. Why was she trying to hide her true nature? If Karla thought so much of her, there must be more to her than she allowed the rest of the world to see.
“Darlin’, we’re going to be together here for at least a week or two. Might as well get it through your head that I’m not going to just lie around here and mooch off you. Put me to work.”
The sparks that flew from her gaze told him he had his work cut out for him on that front, too. “You are supposed to be recuperating. Marc said no strenuous exercise for at least a week.”
He’d deal with Marc later.
“Where’s your woodpile?” He pointed to the four remaining pieces of split wood on the hearth. “These aren’t going to last more than a couple of hours.”
He didn’t expect her to back down, but after a tense moment, she pointed toward the front door. “There is some split dry wood in the mudroom. I will chop some more later if we need it.”
Like hell you will. “Splittin’ wood’s a man’s job.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “If I had waited for a man, I would have frozen to death a long time ago.”
The girl had a point. “But now you have me to help out.”
“Lucas, you need to understand something. You are only here until you are well enough to go home. If you can split wood and make repairs, then you can hike out of here and call someone to pick you up along the highway at the pass.”
Luke wasn’t sure if it was the image of making that daunting hike in his current condition or the thought of leaving Cassie so soon that hurt the worst. He’d better cool it with the “he-man provider” shit if he didn’t want her to kick him out on his ass. Apparently, she wasn’t in need of being taken care of, probably because she’d had to rely on herself for a long time. Too bad for him. He liked being able to take care of a woman’s needs.
Maybe there were other needs she did need a man’s help with.
She started toward the kitchen before facing him again. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Nothin’, darlin’.” Her hackles must have risen when he used the endearment again, judging by the stiffness in her shoulders. Half the time, the word was out before he even realized he’d said it. Hell, he’d been using words like that on girls since college—maybe high school. She sure was cute when riled up, though. “I helped myself to your delicious soup and bread already. You go ahead, though. I’ll start a fire.”
He watched her body as she walked away, wishing he could see the sway of her hips in those thigh-hugging jeans, but the long poncho/sweater-like thing she wore hid most of her backside from view. Front side, too, for that matter. The design on the back was an abstract of falling leaves.
Obviously, she wore so many layers around here because it was so cold. Once these flames caught and started putting out heat, would he manage to get her to peel off any?
Luke sighed. Yeah, right. No woman sent out more “don’t come near me” vibes than this one. She clearly wasn’t putting out any signals that indicated an interest in him sexually or any way other than as her patient, despite his efforts to engage her in conversation. Although he’d been drawn to her since the first time he saw her in that hospital waiting room, the only reason he was here with her was because he’d gotten himself stuck up here against her wishes. Sure, the gentle grace and slight vulnerability she exuded brought out every male instinct he possessed, but she was capable of taking care of herself and had no interest in male companionship, much less anything more carnal. It was best to keep his physical distance and just focus on getting well.
But while he was here, he intended to do his share of the work. At the very least, he wanted to show his appreciation for all she’d done for him. Jeezus, she’d saved his damned ass. He owed this girl—big time.
As he arranged the kindling and cardboard on the grate, he thought he heard muttering in the kitchen. No doubt Cassie was chewing his ass up one side and down the other. How appealing was it that she talked to herself? He guessed living alone did that to a person. He was guilty of the same thing, although he waited until he was inside the barn with the horses so at least the horses heard his ramblings.
Luke opened the dampers, struck a match, and the fire soon roared to life. He waited a few minutes as the heat built up, mesmerized by the flames, before he closed the doors. Fire always fascinated him when it was controlled like this. He’d been involved in a number of rescue missions where wildfires had taken a toll on life and property.
When the blower kicked on, he smiled and adjusted the dampers. Score. At least he had earned some of his room and board. Suddenly worn out, he crossed the room and stretched out on the loveseat, his legs sticking over the armrest from the calves down. He leaned his head against the top of the opposite armrest and closed his eyes, planning to rest his eyes for just a few minutes.
“I am sorry I snapped at you earlier, Lu—”
Luke blinked his eyes open to glance up and find Cassie standing across the room from him.
“Oh! I did not know you were sleeping.”
How long had he dozed? She didn’t have any food with her, so she must have already eaten in the kitchen. He swung his legs to the floor and stood up. “No worries.” His head throbbed at the sudden change in position.
“I am not used to having anyone taking care of things I should be doing myself.”
Sounded like Maggie. She never wanted his help much, either. “You’re a busy girl. I have nothing but time on my hands.”
“Would you at least give yourself a couple more days to heal? And stop thinking you have to repay me for anything. I would take care of any injured person or animal without expecting anything in return.”
“Darlin’, I wasn’t raised to freeload. I’ve made my own way in life since college, and I’m not going to start mooching off you or anyone else now.” He pointed to the fireplace. “I have a knack for fixing stuff like this. Might as well put me to work while I’m here. Otherwise I’m just going to follow you around and wind up in your hair.” He glanced at her long, thick tresses, wondering what it would feel like to run his hands through them.
She blinked at him a few times as she processed his speech. “If I asked again, would you stop calling me ‘darling’?”
He grinned. “Shoot, where I come from everyone uses darlin’, sugar, or sweetie. Would you prefer one of those instead?”
“I’d prefer Cassie.”
“If I call you Cassie instead of Casandra or whatever it’s short for, will you call me Luke?”
“I am Cassie. Only Cassie.” Fire smoldered in her eyes. “But Lucas is your given name.”
“Same difference then. I’d rather you call me Luke.”
She stared a long moment and then sighed deeply. “Fine, then.” Touchdown pass. “You may call me whatever nickname you like, Lucas.”
Or maybe another fumble. While he was happy to hear that he could still use the endearments that came so naturally to him, he wished she’d stop calling him Lucas. His momma used his full name—Stephen Lucas Denton—when he was in trouble, but everyone else had called him Luke since second grade. On the other hand, Lucas was probably a sight better than what she probably called him in her head when she was ticked off at him.
Like now.
“I do appreciate you fixing the fireplace. I am not mechanically inclined.”
> He grinned. “No worries…Sweet Pea.” He wasn’t sure what prompted him to choose that unique pet name just for Cassie, but it fit. On the surface, she was beautiful, just like the purple flowers. But underneath, the girl was one tangled up mess. He hoped he’d be able to sort her out someday.
She blinked a couple of times at his words and then sighed. “I am going back to the studio.” She walked away from him and then tossed over her shoulder, “You should rest.”
Clearly, she wasn’t allowing him inside her private sanctuary any time soon.
He grunted noncommittally and, after she left the cabin, searched for something to do. Everything seemed to be in its place, even though, like the bedroom, this one had very little clutter. No knickknacks to make the place personal. Resembled a mountain vacation rental rather than the place someone had called home for years.
Earth tones dominated the living room, except for a rare splash of color in an Indian blanket draped over the loveseat. This one was primarily red and showed terraced triangles and arrows in black.
Restless and once again feeling the effects of diminished stamina, Luke returned to the fireplace to poke at the flaming logs and added the last ones. The room already felt warmer than the bedroom ever would, but the loveseat wasn’t long enough for him to sleep comfortably. He pulled a couple of cushions off the couch and retrieved a couple blankets and some pillows from the bedroom. He went to the bathroom where he shucked off his clothes, including his boxers. After washing them out in the sink, he hung them to dry in front of the fire and stretched out on the floor, a blanket around his waist.
Memories flooded him of the time when he was a kid pretending to camp out by the fireplace in that rundown farmhouse in South Carolina. Even though that fireplace had been boarded up, he had used his imagination. He’d done that a lot as a kid. Didn’t have a lot of friends since they moved around so much.
Thinking about his childhood reminded him he needed to call Momma in a day or two or she’d worry. She only called once a week now, so she wouldn’t think anything out of the ordinary unless he went beyond Sunday. She’d be heading north to spend the month of July with him at the ranch. For years now, she had been spending July with him in Colorado, not only to visit but also to shop and sightsee. This would be her first time seeing the ranch.
Nobody's Dream (Rescue Me Saga #6) Page 7