She talks. I listen. And every story reveals a piece of her that I'm filing away without meaning to. Her loyalty to Tasha. The way she calls her mother "Mama" with a softness that tells me everything about where she comes from. The way she laughs at her own jokes before the punchline lands.
Around ten, she yawns. Covers her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Sheets and a pillow are in the hall closet."
"Beck." First time she's said my name. Offered it reluctantly when she said "I can't keep calling you Mountain Man, although honestly it fits." My name in her voice sounds different. Warmer. "Thank you. For letting me stay."
"Didn't have much choice."
"You had a choice. You could've let me sit in my car."
True. Could've. Some part of me, the part that hasn't been swallowed whole by the last fourteen months, couldn't.
"Storm should clear by dawn."
"Okay." She stands. Duke follows her toward the hall closet. Stops. Turns back. "For what it's worth? This is the best night I've had since I left Atlanta. Canned soup options notwithstanding."
She disappears down the hall. Duke's nails click after her. The closet opens. A pillow gets fluffed.
Then quiet.
Sitting by the dying fire, I stare at the embers. My hands are open on my knees. Relaxed. When did I unclench my fists?
The woman on the other side of that wall made me laugh twice in one night. Hasn't happened in fourteen months. And the noise she brings into this cabin, the talking, the cooking, the humming, it should feel like an invasion.
It doesn't. It feels like the first breath after being underwater too long.
That's the most dangerous thought I've had since I came up this mountain.
CHAPTER FOUR
JADA
Day three and I'm still here.
Not because of the storm. That cleared yesterday morning, just like Beck predicted. The creek crossing is passable. My car has gas because Beck drove me into Crimson Hollow yesterday afternoon, filled a gas can at the station, drove me back up without a single unnecessary word. My tank is full. The road is dry.
But this morning he made me coffee without being asked. Set the mug on the counter before I was fully awake. Black with two sugars, which is how I've taken it every morning since I arrived. Didn't say a word. Didn't look at me. Just set it down and walked outside to chop wood.
So here I am. On the porch with Duke, watching Beck split wood shirtless because the morning heated up fast. His back muscles rolling with each swing. Sweat tracing his spine into the waistband of his jeans.
Tasha would lose her mind.
Tasha:
You're still there aren't you
Me:
The creek was flooded
Tasha:
Was. Past tense. You just said WAS.
Me:
Duke needs me
