CHAPTER 5
Adrienne hadn’t noticed the gathering clouds. She mistakenly thought the first raindrop was her own tear. Anger rushed through her as she stormed down the hill. She knew Nick with his long legs could overtake her in minutes, but the fact that he kept his distance reminded her that he was a good person. But she was still angry that he’d ruined their easy camaraderie.
She reached the trailhead but halted when she spotted the car’s flickering dome light. “Oh no,” she breathed. The passenger-side door hung slightly ajar because the seatbelt had gotten caught in it. And she couldn’t blame this on Nick, because she had been the one on that side of the car. “Oh dear,” she murmured.
Nick caught up to her and quickly assessed the situation. He pressed the fob, but the doors remained locked. “Bad sign,” he muttered.
Adrienne climbed in through the passenger side and unlocked the driver’s side door for Nick. He settled behind the steering wheel and inserted the key in the ignition. The dome light went out.
Nick turned the key and the engine made a weak growling noise.
“Can we call anyone?” Adrienne asked.
Nick took out his phone. “I don’t get reception. Do you?”
Adrienne checked hers. “No. Maybe someone will come by.”
“It’s hard to tell because of the midnight sun,” Nick said, “but it’s actually close to ten o’clock. Besides, we’re like a hundred miles from anything.”
Adrienne shivered. “Maybe not. I thought we passed a cabin.”
Just then, lightning flashed. Fat raindrops fell. Thunder crashed and the wind whipped the trees’ branches.
“Which way?” Nick asked.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to find it,” Adrienne said. “And, for all I know, it was a porta potty.”
“Which would be disgusting, but not as bad as spending the night in a storm.”
“We could sleep in the car,” Adrienne suggested, but she knew she would be much more comfortable than poor Nick, who was at least eight inches taller than her.
“I’ll go and see if I can find it,” Nick said.
She grabbed his arm. “I don’t want to be separated.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“They have pumas here!” Panic caught in her voice.
“Then come with me. We’ll look for fifteen minutes. If we haven’t found it by then, we’ll come back to the car.”
She silently agreed and stepped out of the car to face the elements. How many miles to the next town? Twenty? Alone, dark, cold, a storm—this was the stuff of nightmares. She tromped up the trail and was relieved to spot the roofline of a small building poking up out of the trees’ canopy.
Nick spotted it, too, and jogged toward the porch. He rattled the door. “Locked.” He threw the word over his shoulder before trying the window. It slid open.
Adrienne let out a sigh of relief and hurried to take shelter on the cabin’s small porch while Nick climbed in through the window and came to the door to let her in.
“We’re trespassing.” She stood in the doorway, surveying the small cabin. A large bed dominated the single room. She took one of the two chairs at the lone table. Someone had stacked firewood and newspapers near the hearth, and a jar of matches sat on the mantel. The kitchen consisted of some wooden shelves stocked with canned foods and a few utensils. Glancing at the bed, she saw that it was as clean as the rest of the room. A large quilt, fat pillows… She looked away quickly and met Nick’s eyes.
Nick plucked the jar off the mantel and muttered “Thank you” to whoever had come before them as he shook a couple of matches into his hand.
“I wonder who owns this place,” Adrienne said.
“Maybe the park department,” Nick suggested without turning around. He wadded up some newspaper and shoved it between the logs in the grate before striking a match. Minutes later, a flame glowed.
Nick peeled off his wet shirt, but not his drenched, mud-splattered jeans. She’d seen him in a bathing suit countless times, but somehow, this time was very different. His hair was longer and curled along his neck. Watching his back muscles work as he poked at the flame, she wondered if he’d been working out.
“I’d rather be trespassing than wet.” He gazed into the fire. “My feelings aside, you really should hang up your clothes to dry. You must be cold.”
She ignored his suggestion and shifted her gaze to the fireplace while he coaxed the tiny flame into a roaring fire. A pot hung from a hook.
“Soup?” she asked.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Me neither, but I thought maybe you’d be.” Adrienne cleared her throat. “This all belongs to someone.”
“We’ll leave money and a thank-you note on the table.”
She didn’t doubt that Nick would be generous. “What if they find us here?”
Nick looked out the window at the now-raging storm.
Lightning lit up the small room, momentarily blinding Adrienne. After a moment, the room returned to a cozy glow.
“Your pants are wet,” she said.
Nick turned from the fire, rifled through his bag, and pulled out a large T-shirt, the sort of thing he slept in when they stayed at hotels. He tossed it to her and she caught it. It smelled of his cologne. He had thought to bring his bag, but she’d left hers in the car.
She quickly stepped out of her jeans and pulled the T-shirt over her head, hypersensitive to him, wondering if he was watching her. Her skin tingled. She heard him moving behind her and turned to see that he’d taken off his jeans and now wore only his boxers. He pulled back the covers on the bed.
She folded her arms protectively across her chest and frowned at him.
Nick sighed. “As much as I’d like to, I’m tired and cold. You’re swaying on your feet. Tonight, I think you’ll find sharing my toothbrush to be as much intimacy as you’ll be able to stand.”
He knew her too well.
He gestured at the bed. “Would you like the right or the left side?”
#
Adrienne shifted. She couldn’t find a comfortable place. The bed groaned every time she moved. Staring at the embers smoldering in the fireplace, she willed herself to sleep. The colors in the grate shifted, and she turned her attention to the much more boring and static ceiling.
Beside her, Nick lay on his side with his back to her. She knew by his breathing that he wasn’t sleeping. It’d taken her weeks to get used to sleeping without Seb beside her, and now she couldn’t sleep because of Nick. He didn’t seem bothered at all, whereas she had morphed into a collection of protruding, restless bones. She tucked her knees into her chest, lying on her side, her arm pinned beneath her, its circulation cut off, slowly growing numb. She eased onto her back and the bed groaned again.
The sheets smelled musty, but they seemed clean enough. No obvious stains. She didn’t think she could have tolerated that. As far as beds went, this one wasn’t so terribly uncomfortable. Just noisy.
She considered the mound in the blanket beside her. Why was she so ridiculously aware of his breath, his smell, the warmth of his body? Adrienne tried to make herself as small and still as she could. Huddling in the fetal position, she wondered how they’d get out tomorrow. No cell service —they’d have to walk to the main highway and then hitch a ride into town. Of course, being with Nick would be much better than being alone. Safer.
Her neck hurt. She rolled over and punched her pillow. She had down pillows at home. This pillow must have been made from shredded cardboard. It smelled like oatmeal. Maybe it’d been made from a recycled cereal box. Why wasn’t she asleep?
“Adrienne?”
She went still. Played dead.
The blankets rustled as Nick rolled over. Adrienne scooted to the edge of the mattress.
“Why are you awake?” he asked.
“How could anyone sleep? This bed is noisy. The pillow is made of gravel.” She didn’t like the sound of her voice. She knew she sounded petulant, and she hated being the spoiled princess. “I’m cold.”
Nick hitched himself onto his elbow. “Here,” he said, enveloping her in his arms and pulling her against him.
She nestled against his warmth.
His arm draped across her, holding her against his chest. Nick adjusted so his chin rested on her head. He smelled of cologne and of the fire, a mixture of the familiar and the primitive.
“Adrienne,” Nick murmured into her hair.
#
Adrienne woke with the sun on her face and quilts tangled around her legs. She watched Nick sleep for a minute. She’d forgotten what this was like, watching someone in unguarded moments. He looked different. Older. He hadn’t shaved and his hair had been mussed.
Stirring, he flung his arm over her. In his sleep, he pulled her close and she let him draw her to him.
She had so many questions. A night in a cabin didn’t answer any of them. In fact, their night together just seemed to highlight all her questions in red. Had he come to South America to visit his uncle, or her? Did he really love her? His hold on her tightened and his breath fanned her cheek.
At this moment, should she turn away? Sanity told her she must, but she closed her eyes, seduced by the warmth, quiet, and comfort.
She had so many questions, but they could wait.
#
Cold. The smell of doused fire drifted from somewhere. Instinctively, she reached for Nick’s warmth, but found only icy sheets. Realization washed over her, and she sat up. Her eyes felt gritty, her teeth fuzzy. She needed a bathroom. A real one. One with white porcelain and running, flushing water. She wanted bath salts, body gel and a loofa. Lying down, she pulled the quilt over her head.
She’d spent the night with Nick. Her husband’s cousin.
Nothing had happened.
That, at least, was good. Right? Sex would only have complicated things.
She’d cuddled up to him. For warmth.
Peeking out from under the quilt, she wondered where he’d gone. And why.
Outside the window, a bleak sun shone in a steel gray sky. Adrienne sat up and looked at all the damage the storm had caused—downed branches, bent trees and thousands of pinecones scattered on the ground. Just yesterday, it’d been warm. Or was it two days ago? She couldn’t remember.
Where had Nick gone? She knew he wouldn’t leave her alone. Adrienne climbed from the bed, taking the quilt with her. She spotted his bag in the corner.
He’d left the bag but taken his wallet and phone. Twinges of guilt pricked her as she went through Nick’s things. She told herself he wouldn’t mind.
She gathered what she needed—toothbrush, toothpaste, and comb. Her hair, a snarled curly mess, resisted her efforts, and she twisted it up into a bun. She went outside in search of a privacy tree or makeshift potty. Lots of trees, but no Nick.
She returned to the cabin and put Nick’s toiletries back in his bag. Her fingers hit something smooth and the light from Nick’s phone flashed at her.
A text from Seb lit the screen.
After a quick glance over her shoulder, she drew out the phone.
Thanks for keeping her away.
Adrienne had always thought the cliché the headlines screamed ridiculous, because how could printed words be at all vocal, let alone scream? But Seb’s words tore through her and thundered in her mind. Her thoughts skittered back to yesterday’s hike to the glaciers and the sound of the splintering ice breaking and falling into the lake. That was how she felt. She was breaking and the sound of it was deafening.
Sitting on the bed, she cradled the phone in her lap, longing to read the entire text message chain. But she couldn’t. The only text showing was the one. To access the others, she’d need Nick’s password.
But this one was enough, wasn’t it? Seb wanted her out of the way so badly, he’d sent his cousin to keep her entertained.
And Nick. What exactly was his role? He’d said he loved her, but did he really? And how could he, when she was so broken?
She threw on her jeans and sweater, slipped into her shoes and stepped out into the bleak sunshine.
Up the road, she saw Nick talking to a man in baggy pants standing beside a truck. A thick yellow tow rope attached the truck to their rental car.
Adrienne didn’t know what to say. Should she tell him she’d found his phone with the text message? A part of her wanted to tell him she was sorry, but she didn’t know exactly what for, and she didn’t know if he would misconstrue her apology as something she didn’t mean. She didn’t know what she meant. She didn’t know what she wanted.
Should she go home?
Should she try to fight for her marriage?
Should she ask Nick to open his phone so she could read all the messages from Seb? No. Definitely not. She was tired of being pathetic, and even though she didn’t know what she wanted, she knew exactly what she didn’t want. She didn’t want to wait around anymore for someone who valued her company so little that he would employ someone else to keep her occupied. She felt like a puppy in need of a dogwalker or a child requiring a nanny.
“This is Mario,” Nick said, motioning to the mammoth man sitting behind the wheel. “He’s going to give us a ride into town.”
Mario wore a straw cap and a polo shirt with gray chest hair poking through the buttonholes. His skin had weathered to a wrinkly rawhide, tanned to the middle of his biceps but paler beneath the sleeves of his shirt.
Nick held the truck door open for Adrienne. “I’ll sit in the back.”
But the back was full of chickens—dozens of them. They clicked their beaks against the wire cages and clucked and shook their downy feathers at Nick.
“Where?” she asked. “You need a beak to sit back there.”
“There’s plenty of room up here,” Mario called out, smiling at Adrienne.
Nick and Adrienne looked at each other. It’d be a squeeze. She’d have to wedge between Nick and Mario. Nick would never fit in the middle, not with the gear stick.
Adrienne climbed into the cab. It smelled of mud and grease. Nick clambered in beside her, put his guitar case between his legs and rested his arm across the back of the bench seat. To keep from touching Mario, Adrienne pressed herself against Nick’s side. He felt warm and solid against her goosepimply skin. By necessity his thigh ran alongside hers.
“Are you selling your chickens?” Adrienne asked, attempting small talk.
“Yep,” Mario said, looking her squarely in the eye. “Tomorrow being the Lord’s day, I do all my trading on Saturdays.” His big beefy hand rested on the gear stick inches from her knee.
“Are you a commercial chicken farmer?” she asked.
“No.” Mario shifted from second to third gear and his hand grazed Adrienne’s thigh. She scooted closer to Nick. “I just raise a few chickens on the side and trade my leftovers to the Gallo Pasada over in Puerto Natales. He looked from Adrienne’s legs to Nick’s face. “You two married?”
Neither replied for a moment. Finally Nick said, “No.”
Mario chuckled and shifted into fifth. Adrienne crossed her legs, trying to avoid contact with him and the gear stick.
“Bet you will be soon,” he said.
What is that supposed to mean? “Nick is my husband’s cousin and best friend,” Adrienne put in.
Mario’s grin didn’t fade. He shot a quick glance at Nick’s thigh pressing against Adrienne’s. “Not for long, I’m guessing.”
Was Mario a Dr. Phil in overalls? He knew nothing about either of them. Adrienne tried to pull away from Nick, but that brought her knee closer to Mario’s hand resting on the gear stick.
“So how is it you’re traveling together?”
You don’t have to answer him, Adrienne mentally told Nick. We need a ride, not a counseling session.
“This is a business trip,” Nick said. “Of sorts.”
Mario snorted and threw Adrienne a quick glance. “Some hanky-panky business.”
Adrienne stiffened. Again, what is that supposed to mean? She’d just been insulted. She didn’t speak until they pulled up at a stop signal next to a tavern called El Toro Enojado.
“Thanks, Mario. We’ll get out here,” Nick said, opening the door and pulling Adrienne out with him. He slammed the door as Mario got out to unhook the rental car from the tow line.
“Wait, why here?” she asked Nick’s retreating back. He was already climbing onto the porch of the tavern.
“I didn’t like Mario,” he said over his shoulder. He stopped beside the tavern door. “Did you? Were you comfortable with him pressing against your thigh every time he shifted gears?” He waited a beat. “I didn’t think so. We’ll get roadside service. But first, I need a human moment.”
While Nick went inside to use the restroom, Adrienne settled onto a wooden bench on the porch. Wondering if she might finally have reception, she fished her phone out of her bag.
Her pulse quickened when she read a text from Aubrey that said, Call me now.