Because the developer's offer is real. The debt is real. The cabins need more than elbow grease and copper fittings. They need money Owen doesn't have. And staying here, sleeping in his bed, letting him take care of me while the roof caves in around us, is the most selfish thing I've ever done.
Houston is fourteen hours in the wrong direction.
But for the first time in three weeks, I think about it. The hospital. My old apartment. A life that was killing me slowly, but at least it was mine.
The kitchen light in the main house goes out.
Pulling the quilt tighter, I close my eyes. His pillow is in his bedroom, not here. Can't smell pine on these sheets. Can't feel his heartbeat under my ear.
The quiet that used to heal me now just echoes.
Chapter Six
OWEN
Two days without her in my bed is enough to rearrange my priorities.
Day one, I chop wood until my hands blister. Split enough to last the rest of winter. Stack it against every cabin wall on the property. Reorganize the supply shed. Fix the latch she was working on the night I kissed her.
Day two, I sit at Mabel's counter at seven in the morning staring at a plate of biscuits I can't eat.
"You look terrible." Mabel sets down a coffee I didn't order. Leans her hip against the counter. "When's the last time you slept?"
"Night before last."
"And where's your girl?"
"She's not my girl."
"Sweetheart." Mabel's voice drops into the register she uses when she's about to deliver truth that hurts. "That woman has been fixing your cabins, sleeping in your bed, wearing your jacket around this town for three weeks. She's your girl. Thequestion is whether you're gonna be stupid enough to let her leave."
The coffee burns my tongue. Good. "She found the developer's papers."
"Mm."
"Saw the tax notice. The repair list. All of it."
"And?"
"And she thinks I've been using her. Free labor for a property I'm about to sell."
Mabel's hand comes down flat on the counter. Hard enough that Hank looks up from his newspaper at the far end.
"Owen James McCall. Are you telling me that woman drove fourteen hours across the country, fell in love with your sorry behind, and you let her walk out of your house believing she was a convenience?"
The words land in my chest. Fell in love. Mabel says it matter-of-factly, the way she says everything.
"She didn't..."
"Oh, she did. Hank, did Carmen Reyes fall in love with this fool?"
Hank doesn't look up from his paper. "Yep."
"There you go." Mabel refills my coffee. "Now. What are you gonna do about it?"
Sitting in my truck outside the diner, I call Greg Weston.
"Owen! Great to hear from you. I was just about to send over a revised..."
