“They won’t.”
“What if they do?”
I sigh with frustration and drop my bag onto the floor. Dust particles bounce in the afternoon sun. “I have a gun if I need it. It’s mainly to scare off bears, but I’ll use if for intruders if I have to.”
Her face pales. “There are bears here?”
“Yes.”
She fiddles with the strap of her purse on her shoulder. I bet she’s regretting her decision to come here. “Oh…”
“Don’t worry. They rarely come to the cabin.”
“So, we will be safe here?”
“Don’t annoy me and you will be.”
She pulls a face.
I hold my arm in a way to gesture her inside. “In or out.”
Lifting her luggage, she steps inside then gasps, “This is it?” Her mouth falls open as she slowly spins on the spot to take in the small space.
The interior isn’t much better than the exterior. The one room functions as bedroom, dining room, and kitchen. The bathroom is outside. An old, blackened fireplace needs missing stones replaced, and the chimney needs cleaning. Timber floors have gaps between the planks, letting in cool air, and the log walls do little to keep the draft out either.
Feeling defensive of my home away from home, I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s not a five-star hotel, but it’s comfortable.”
Her nose screws up. “If you say so.”
“You don’t have to stay.” I point toward the door. “Follow the track until you get to the main road. Maybe you can hitch a ride back. You better hope some psychopath doesn’t pick you up. And oh…watch out for bears.”
She dips her head. “I’m sorry. I’m acting like an ungrateful bitch. All I’ve done is complain when you have gone above and beyond for me.”
Giving the room another scan, her gaze lands on the double bed up against the wall. I’ve never brought a woman here before, and therefore, needed nothing bigger or cleaner.
“There’s only one bed,” she says, stating the obvious. “Umm…We’re not going to…arhhh… Where will we sleep?”
Now she has a problem sharing a bed with me? She seemed quite comfortable last night.
I pull the dust sheet off it. “The bed is mine. You can sleep on the recliner.”
She stares at the old chair with disgust. The brown faux leather is peeling off the seat, and if you sit on a certain spot, a spring pokes you in the ass. Garrett hated it and opted to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag.
“This is my only option?” she asks.
Is she hinting for an invitation for me to give up the bed? Not going to happen.
“Your options are the chair or the car.” I fold the sheet and place it inside a cupboard.
Her shoulders sag on a sigh. She looks so miserable I think she might cry.
“While you’re sorting out your sleeping arrangements, I need to head into town to get supplies.”
“There’s a town?” Hope sparks in her eyes.
“A small one. There’s a convenience store with a post office, a diner, and a bar. That’s about it.”
“Do the locals know you?”
