CHAPTER SEVEN
My breathing was labored as I ran, noisy gasps for air echoing in my ears as I pushed my legs to move faster.
Forceful jolts shot up my shins as my sandals slapped against the ground, continuously connecting with the hard, unforgiving forest floor.
The sharp edge of a low-hanging branch scratched my arm as I hastily batted it away.
I was running so fast – so fiercely – that I was barely able to halt my momentum when I pushed through a cluster of overgrown thicket and came upon a cliff.
I stood near the edge of the drop-off, resting my hands on my knees and attempting to catch my breath. A careful glance over the cliff’s edge revealed that it was at least a fifty-foot drop. Surrounded by evergreens at the bottom was a river that was about as wide as the cliff was steep.
The water glistened in the twilight as it flowed lazily by – a stark contrast to the energy I could feel rushing through my veins, insisting I move.
But I had nowhere to go.
I woke with a gasp, my heart beating so hard in my chest that I could feel it hammering against my ribs. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my head in them, trying to banish the panic swelling in my chest.
I could feel stray strands of hair sticking to my slick forehead, almost like I really had been running.
“What are you doing?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden, gruff voice resounding behind me. Derek.
Hastily uncurling myself, I pushed myself into a sitting position from where I’d been lying… on the floor? I glanced around Derek’s living room.
Oh, that was right.
When we had returned to his cabin last night, he’d offered me his bed, but I’d refused. He must have sensed my determination on the issue because he hadn’t put up a fight – he’d merely dumped a warm afghan and spare pillow into my arms before disappearing into his bedroom.
I’d tried to fall asleep on the couch after that, with Derek’s dog, Thane, resting on the floor beneath me. But while the wool couch had been comfortable enough, sleep had proven to be elusive. I didn’t recall what it was that had attracted me to the plush rug in front of the dying embers of the fire, but I vaguely remembered lying down there before finally falling under the Sandman’s spell.
I didn’t remember dragging the afghan there with me, though, and I fingered the soft fabric still covering my legs in confusion.
“Well?”
I blinked, eyes finally darting over to Derek, who stood a few feet away. His arms were crossed over his chest. His bare chest. My brain threatened to short-circuit at the sight of bulging biceps, and firm, wiry muscle. A smattering of hair covered his toned chest, including the enticing “V” that disappeared into the waist band of his pants.
I wrenched my eyes from the sight, forcing them to focus on my lap. Heat licked at my cheeks. “Um, nothing,” I managed to force out. He must have thought I was a complete airhead. “Just had a strange dream is all.”
Running through the woods. Standing at the edge of a cliff.
I couldn't help but speculate what it meant… if it really was just a dream or something more – a memory.
I risked a peek at the man.
He was still staring, and I wondered if he could somehow sense that my answer hadn’t been completely truthful. I fought the urge to fidget. “Can I use your bathroom?” I blurted, uncomfortable with his scrutiny and latching onto the first excuse I could think of to leave the room.
Derek frowned, but finally released me from his gaze. “You know where it is,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of his bedroom before turning his back to me – and dear Lord, trapeziuses like that ought to be illegal – and disappearing into the kitchen.
I scrambled to my feet at the obvious dismissal, taking a moment to fold the afghan and replace it on the couch before heading to the bathroom adjoined to Derek’s bedroom.
After relieving myself, I washed my hands and eyed my reflection in the mirror. No wonder Derek had been staring.
I was a mess.
Although the litany of bruises on my face were already fading – the large one on my right temple turning yellow around the edges – I still looked like something the cat had dragged in. My hair was a disaster, a few pieces still sticking to my forehead and the rest attempting to simultaneously stand on end and fall over my shoulders in tangled curls. My eyes were red-rimmed, too, evidence of my troubled sleep.
I was in desperate need of a shower.
With that thought in mind, I took a few minutes to inspect the tub behind me. I slid open the glass shower door and examined the meager contents of its shelves – a bar of soap and two bottles of generic shampoo and conditioner. (Pretty much exactly what one would expect to find in the bathroom of a bachelor that lived by himself in the woods.) I eyed the showerhead longingly before sighing and reluctantly closing the glass door.
I promised myself that I would work up the nerve to ask Derek if I could use his shower before the morning was over.
While I was pretty sure he would let me, Derek wasn’t exactly the easiest person in the world to strike up a conversation with. I smoothed down the over-sized shirt I was still wearing from yesterday. I’d have to ask him about that sometime soon, too. I wasn’t sure what he expected me to wear while I was staying with him, but it wasn’t like I had any clothes of my own.
Eyeing my unsatisfactory image in the mirror one last time, I exited the bathroom.
The smell of bacon hit my nose when I emerged from Derek’s bedroom a moment later. My mouth watered, and I followed the sound of sizzling fat to the kitchen where Derek was standing over the stovetop.
Clearly, the man had been busy while I’d been exploring his bathroom.
In addition to frying a small mountain of bacon on one burner, he was scrambling what looked like close to a dozen eggs on another. My stomach growled at the sight of all the food, and I was reminded of the fact that I hadn’t eaten since Derek had offered me a cheeseburger the night before.
My face reddened as I recalled how I had decimated the greasy sandwich within minutes before shoveling the accompanying French fries into my mouth two at a time. I remembered the way Derek had stared as I’d eaten, too, following the movement of my hands with seemingly rapt attention as I’d stuffed myself.
Now it was my turn to stare.
I imagined most women would have given nearly anything to be in my shoes, watching a devastatingly handsome, shirtless man cook breakfast over a smoking stovetop.
Even Thane was staring, watching Derek with wide eyes that begged for a scrap – or twelve – of bacon.
Derek merely rolled his eyes at the sight. “Get!” he ordered, gesturing at an overflowing bowl of kibble in the corner of the kitchen. “You have your own food.”
Poor Thane whined at the order, but instead of going to his bowl, he traipsed over to me, like I could somehow aid him in his quest to procure human food. I smoothed down the short fur between his ears. “Hey, boy. Good morning.”
He licked my hand in greeting.
While I was preoccupied with petting his dog, Derek split the bacon and eggs up evenly between two plates before dumping them onto the oak table located only a few strides away in the connecting dining room.
When I looked up from petting Thane, he caught my eye.
“Eat,” he demanded, gesturing at one of the plates before sitting down in one of the four chairs surrounding the table and digging into his eggs.
My stomach twisted longingly, but I hesitated, feeling guilty about the way I seemed to be constantly putting him out. After all, it wasn’t like I could pay Derek anything for letting me stay at his cabin – at least, not until I remembered who I was. I should have been the one making him breakfast.
“You didn’t have to,” I said, before hurriedly adding, “I mean it looks really good,” and smells divine, “but I could have made myself something.”
He glanced up from his food, a forkful of eggs half-way to his mouth. “You cook?”
I bit my lip. “Maybe?” I offered hesitantly, eyeing the pans he’d used to fry the bacon and eggs and the spatula and what looked like a… whisk? Maybe?... lying in them.
Then again, maybe not.
I ran a hand through my hair. “I don’t think so,” I admitted sheepishly, “but I’m sure I could have managed some toast or something.”
Probably.
He stared. “Eat,” he reiterated before returning his attention to his breakfast.
Not needing to be told again, I approached the table and lowered myself into the seat he’d put the extra plate in front of – it was directly across from him. Besides the two plates of food, there were a couple glasses and a carton of orange juice on the table. He must have taken them out while I’d been busy in the bathroom. I carefully filled one of the glasses with juice.
“Thanks,” I offered timidly before taking a sip, savoring the sweet flavor.
He grunted, which I chose to interpret as: “You’re welcome.”
I took a piece of crisp bacon from the pile he’d loaded on my plate, taking a bite and barely holding back a groan as the taste of salty, melt-in-your-mouth fat hit my tongue.
I only managed to finish that single strip before I felt the soft but insistent prodding of Thane butting his nose against my leg. I couldn’t stop a smile from pulling at the corners of my mouth, and I picked up another piece of bacon before offering it to him.
“Here you go, boy.”
He snatched it up with one quick swipe of his tongue.
“Don’t spoil him,” Derek commanded sharply, startling me.
I withdrew my hand, hiding it in the crevasse of my thighs. “Sorry.”
Derek didn’t have to know that the apology was meant just as much for his dog as it was for him. Thane, for his part, looked ridiculously pleased as he settled at my feet, probably hoping I’d feed him another scrap from my plate.
Doing my best to ignore him, I took a bite of my eggs – they were warm and buttery in my mouth – and tried to make small talk. “So,” I began hesitantly, “what are your plans for this morning? Do you have, like… a job, or something?” I winced, only realizing after it had come out of my mouth how judgmental the question sounded.
Thankfully, Derek showed no sign of offense, though he did seem irked – or maybe just flustered? – that I was attempting to make conversation. “Not in the traditional sense, no,” he said after a long pause. “I dabble in wood carving and sell some of the pieces I make to the people in town, but I don’t make any sustainable income off it.”
I thought of the intricate swirls and lines in the woodwork of his bed frame, as well as the carved pieces of lumber I’d spotted outside the night before. “That’s so neat.” And it was. “Did you make those pieces outside? That stag and the bear? You’re really good.”
He seemed uncomfortable with the compliment and shifted in his chair. It was almost… cute. “I did… and thanks,” he said, the word sounding foreign coming from his mouth. “Anyway, most of my time is taken up tending to the land.”
I nodded, remembering the way he said he’d found me in his woods. “How much do you own?” I asked, unable to suppress my curiosity.
“A couple thousand acres, give or take.”
I felt my eyes widen and suspected I was gaping like a fish. That sounded like a lot of land. I wondered silently to myself how he had come to own it, but I didn’t manage to work up the nerve to ask him before he had finished eating and stood from his seat.
He rinsed his plate in the sink before disappearing into his bedroom. When he came back out a moment later, he was wearing a shirt – a tide of relief washed over me, followed swiftly by a smaller wave of disappointment.
I frowned when he headed towards the entryway and began pulling on his boots.
I stood in concern and approached him, abandoning my half-full plate on the table. “Where are you going?” I asked.
He glanced up at me from where he was kneeling, tying one of his boots. “I need to go check my traps.”
My frown deepened. “Traps?”
“Mechanisms for catching game,” he explained succinctly, “mostly small animals, like rabbits. I also have a water trap set up along the river for catching trout.”
“And you’re just going to leave me here alone?” I asked, hoping he couldn’t hear the anxiety that I could feel swirling in my belly leaking into my voice.
“What? You need a nanny or something? I thought you said you were a grown-up.”
My shoulders tensed at the teasing – I couldn’t tell if it was good-natured or not. “No,” I shot back sharply. “It’s not that. I… I’m just surprised you trust me is all.” It wasn’t untrue. “I mean, aren’t you afraid I’ll… I don't know.” I glanced around the room. “Make off with your… microwave or something?”
The corner of Derek’s mouth quirked like he was fighting a smile. It shouldn’t have warmed my insides, but it did. “I think you just answered your own question. But if you really need someone around to help you control any urges you may have to make off with my sixty-dollar microwave…” – his tone made it clear enough just how ridiculous he thought the idea was – “…Thane will stay.” He whistled, and the dog bounded over to him. Resting his weight on his haunches, Derek took Thane’s face between his hands. “You’ll watch over little Wisp, won’t you, boy?” he asked.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
Thane yipped.
“There,” Derek said, releasing the dog and standing. “You’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” I agreed hesitantly, attempting to run my hand through my hair, but my fingers got stuck in the tangles and I winced. “But do you mind if I use your shower while you’re gone?” I asked quickly, the words tumbling from my mouth so fast they were nearly indiscernible.
Derek stared for a second before offering me a jerky nod. “That’s fine. And for the record,” he added a few awkward beats later, “you don’t have to ask to use my shower, or go to the bathroom, or get yourself a glass of water. As long as you’re staying here, the cabin’s yours as much as it is mine.”
I could tell that the words had been hard for him to spit out, but the generous nature of them caused my cheeks to redden.
He reached for the door handle.
“Wait!” I yelled, instinctively latching onto his shirt.
He turned, bewildered. “What?”
I hastily released him, but didn't know what to say. I didn't know why I wanted him to stay so badly, but I did. “It’s just… I mean… is there anything I can do while you’re gone?” I finally decided on. “I want to make myself useful.”
I thought for a minute that he was going to say “no”, but then the creases of his brow softened and he sighed. He walked to the kitchen and pulled out what looked like an empty ice cream pail from one of the cupboards. He set it down on the counter. “Why don’t you pick some raspberries from the garden? I’m sure they’re falling off their branches. I would have gotten to them yesterday, but, well… something came up.”
Sarcasm laced his voice and I reddened. We both knew very well that I was that something – or rather, someone. “Right,” I said. “I’ll do that.”
He nodded, his eyes wandering to the dining room table. “Finish your breakfast,” he all but ordered. “I’ll be back sometime this afternoon. Help yourself to whatever in the meanwhile.”
Unable to come up with any other excuse to delay his departure, I was forced to watch him leave. The front door swung shut behind him with a loud, dull thud.
I stared at the sturdy slab of oak for a long moment before sighing and glancing down at the dog by my feet. “Well, Thane, I guess it’s just you and me, buddy.”
He stared up at me, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted.
Wandering back over to the dining room table, I attempted to do as Derek had “asked” and finish my breakfast. I didn’t have the same iron will as he did, however, and ended up feeding half of my bacon to Thane, who eagerly accepted each piece, his tail thumping rhythmically against the floor as it wagged behind him.
When I was finished, I copied Derek’s actions and rinsed my plate in the sink before placing it in the dishwasher. After putting the orange juice away, I also tackled the pans and utensils he’d left on the oven, taking a few minutes to wash them in the sink before setting them on the adjacent drying rack.
Thane’s eyes tracked my every movement, and when I made my way to the bathroom after that, he trailed after me. I stopped him by the door. “Sorry, boy. You can’t follow me in here,” I said, offering him a scratch behind the ears in consolation.
He seemed to understand and settled on the floor, apparently content to wait for me outside the bathroom door.
I snorted in amusement before opening the door and letting myself in. I didn’t waste any time tugging off the oversized clothes I was wearing before stepping into the shower. When my bare feet met the cold porcelain of the tub, a chill swept up my spine. Ignoring the goosebumps that broke out across my arms, I took a moment to examine the bronze dial before cranking it to the right. Cold water burst out of the showerhead, and I yelped.
Thane barked excitedly outside the door.
“I-I’m fine,” I choked out. “Hush now. I’m fine.”
Thankfully, Thane quieted, and a moment later, the spray warmed. I sighed, enjoying the feeling of hot water pelting against the tense muscles of my shoulders. I stood there for close to five minutes, eyes closed, just soaking in the sensation.
Eventually, I forced myself to open my eyes. I reached for the shampoo bottle on the shelf, scrutinizing the label. While Derek hadn’t given me direct permission to use it, he had essentially said that as long as I was staying at his cabin, what was his was mine. I squeezed some of the product into my hand and lathered it in my hair. While I was doing that, I caught sight of the long cut spanning the length of my wrist to my inner elbow and froze.
A sharp branch catching my arm as I swatted it out of the way.
I shook off the remnant of my dream (memory?) intent on examining it more closely later.
After rinsing my hair free of shampoo, I reached for the conditioner and treated my hair to the same process. Then, after scrubbing my body down with the bar of soap, I allowed myself to enjoy the warm spray for a few minutes longer before finally shutting off the water.
I’d forgotten to grab a towel before jumping in the shower and dripped water onto the floor as I hastily searched the bathroom cabinets for one. Thankfully, they were easy to find, and after drying my hair with one, I wrapped it around my torso. I grabbed another to clean up the wet floor.
Once that was done, I carded my fingers through my hair in an attempt to untangle it. My fingers kept getting stuck on knots, though, and eventually I gave up. I felt a pang of guilt for snooping through Derek’s vanity drawers – and another twinge of something that sat heavy at the bottom of my belly when I came upon a designer comb with a pink handle. (Surely, it didn’t belong to Derek.) Regardless, I used it to get my hair in some semblance of order. When I was finished, the dark strands fell over my shoulders in loose, damp curls.
I didn’t see any moisturizer in his drawers, but I did spot a roll of men’s deodorant. Hoping Derek wouldn’t mind, I quickly rolled it under my arms. After that, I squeezed some of his toothpaste onto my finger and scrubbed my teeth. I left his toothbrush alone, not about to cross that line.
When I was finished, I spit and wiped my mouth before examining my reflection in the mirror. The face that stared back at me was fresh, but I still didn't know it, and I couldn’t stop myself from inching closer to the mirror. I was idly tracing the faint hint of freckles smattered across my nose when I heard Thane begin to whine outside the door, his nails scratching against the wood.
I huffed, a smile threatening to break free across my face at his impatience. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.”
I didn’t have any clean clothes to wear – and I wasn’t about to snoop through Derek’s dresser in an attempt to find some – so I reluctantly pulled back on the ones I’d shed before hopping in the shower.
Thane was upon me as soon as I exited the bathroom, nearly jumping on top of me in his enthusiasm. I took a moment to kneel and thread my fingers through his coarse fur before rising and wandering over to the kitchen to grab the bucket Derek had left out for me.
“Do you want to go outside, Thane?”
The dog yipped excitedly, rushing to the front door.
I snorted. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”
I took a moment to strap on my sandals before opening the door and letting him out.
Thane bolted forward, blindly bounding down the porch steps and running towards the chicken coop on the west side of the yard. He barked loudly as he ran, and the dozen hens meandering around in the surrounding pen were startled into a flurry of movement at the sudden noise, flapping their ruffled feathers as they squawked.
I followed him outside and down the steps at a slower pace, the mid-morning sun warming my skin as soon as I stepped out of the shade of the porch. It was much hotter today than it had been yesterday. Last evening there had been a pleasant breeze, but this morning there was none. Just a muggy, oppressive sort of heat that made even breathing a chore.
It was the heart of summer, I supposed, but still an unseasonably warm day for Washington.
At least the heat seemed to have warded off the bugs – there were no pesky mosquitoes swarming around. Even they didn’t want to deal with the overbearing sun.
I was reluctant to be out, too, especially in Derek’s heavy clothes, but I had promised to make myself useful and that was precisely what I was going to do.
I would prove to Derek that it hadn’t been a mistake to take me in.
Allowing Thane to roam freely, I wandered over to the impressive garden on the east side of his lawn. It was massive – probably about a thousand square feet – with a half-dozen rows of corn growing on one side – the stalks were already taller than me – and an impressive patch of raspberry bushes growing on the other. In between were what looked like rows of green beans and sweet peas. There were also some vegetables sprouting up from the ground – carrots, it looked like, and maybe potatoes?
As I made my way around to the side where the raspberries were growing, the wedges of my sandals kept sinking into the dirt, chunks of soil sticking to them.
I grimaced at the caked mud and set down the empty ice cream pail to unclasp my sandals and set them on the grass before continuing my task barefoot.
So much for that shower.
Not wanting to waste time with the sun beating down at me overhead, I began filling the pail with raspberries. Derek was right – the little morsels were so ripe that they were falling off the branches. They were plump, red, and practically begging to be eaten. I popped one into my mouth, enjoying the burst of tart sweetness.
As I plucked the raspberries off their branches bunches at a time, their juices stained my fingers red. It only took an hour or so to fill the bucket past its brim, but in the summer heat, it felt like double that. My forehead was slick with perspiration by the time I was finished, and I could feel tiny beads of sweat trickling down the back of my neck, the little hairs there sticking to it.
Unfortunately, as I had picked raspberries, I had caught sight of the sweet peas planted next to them. The peapods were bulging and their green color was beginning to yellow in the sun. They were as in desperate need of harvesting as the raspberries.
I had already resolved to pick them as well – the prospect of surprising Derek, maybe even prying a smile out of the man too much to resist – and only took a small break to bring the raspberries in the house, rut around the kitchen for another container to fill with peas, and give Thane a drink from the hose attached to the side of the cabin before resuming my work.
The higher the sun rose in the sky, the hotter it got. I felt like I was roasting alive in Derek’s clothes, but I was grateful that they were protecting me from the sun’s rays, at least.
My face wasn’t so lucky. The skin on my forehead felt dry, and when I pressed the back of my hands to my cheeks I could tell they were flushed.
I had a feeling I was about to find out just how prone I was to sunburn.
Regardless, I was determined to not let a single pea go to waste and even took the time to pick an overgrown weed or two as I plodded along.
My bucket was nearly full when I stood from examining the underside of a plant for stragglers and felt a wave of dizziness suddenly sweep over me. I clenched my eyes tightly shut, standing perfectly still as I attempted to chase the lightheadedness away.
When I reopened my eyes, I felt a little better and saw that Thane had made his way over to me from where he had been resting in the shade of the porch. It was almost like he had sensed my distress.
I waved him away. “I’m almost done, boy,” I assured him. “Just a couple more peas.”
He yipped at me. The sound had an almost scolding quality to it, but I ignored him and continued my search for any pods that I had missed.
The wooziness returned only a few minutes later, and this time, nausea with it.
I felt the bile climbing up my throat just in time to make it to the edge of the garden, fall to my knees and puke into the grass. I gagged, choking on the vomit as it burned my esophagus and the inside of my nose. I was conscious of Thane barking loudly somewhere to my left.
By the time I was finished throwing up, my vision was swimming and I felt so weak that my arms collapsed underneath my weight. I had just enough presence of mind left to roll to the side in an effort to avoid falling into my own puke.
My vision swam as I lay there, the bitter taste of vomit sticking to the roof of my mouth. “You know, Thane, I think you’re right,” I mumbled, vaguely aware that I was slurring, but unable to muster up the energy to care. I closed my eyes against the harsh brightness of the sun. “I should rest.”
Thane’s barking grew louder, and I felt him prod my cheek with his nose, almost like he was trying to make me… get up?
But why would he want me to do that?
It felt so nice to rest. And quite suddenly, I couldn’t think of a good reason not to fall asleep right where I was.
“Just give me a minute, boy… just a minute…”
But the longer I lay there, the less aware of the hot sun beating down on my face I became, and the better idea it seemed to simply drift away. In fact, it seemed so lovely an idea that the next time unconsciousness beckoned, I just… surrendered.