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“Thanks. A bath does sound nice.”
Sawyer nodded and started loading the stove with wood for the promised hot soak for Nicole.
Reed went out the back to get the metal tub to put on the porch as she went into the bedroom and shut the door.
How the hell was he going to get her out of his head? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he must if he had any chance of steering clear of a certain disaster—his heart crushed. The plane crash that took his parents’ lives nearly destroyed him. Sawyer and Erica, too. If he gave in to his desires for Nicole, he knew what would happen. She wasn’t from Destiny. She was Chicago all the way. No way would she ever agree to stay here. So the best course of action he could take was to keep his desire for her under control. Of course, that didn’t mean if opportunity knocked he wouldn’t answer. That might be the best thing to happen. One tumble might cure him of these strange feelings for her. But what if they didn’t?
He shook his head and stepped off the back porch to get the first buckets of water, when he spotted movement up the mountain to his left. Turning his head the direction of the motion, he pulled out his pistol and focused on the spot. Nothing. He didn’t move. He’d learned long ago to trust his eyes. They hadn’t failed. Continuing to stare at the area where he’d seen the activity for what seemed longer than it actually must’ve been, he finally saw the source of the disturbance up the mountain. It was Connie, his favorite big cat. Two sightings in one day? That was a record.
He remembered how excited Nicole had been when they’d seen the old girl in the middle of the road. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Nicole? He’d better figure out how soon or he might never be able to.
* * * *
Watching the steam rise from the water, Nicole stood by the metal tub on the back porch.
She grinned at the makeshift room of cotton sheets that Reed and Sawyer had fastened to the posts. The white fabric billowed slightly in the warm breeze. The table the brothers had placed next to the bath was filled with items they’d brought out here for her. It had a glass of iced tea, a plate of Hostess chocolate cupcakes, cloths and towels, shampoo and soap, and one of those iPod docking stations.
They’d even folded a big white cloth towel on the edge where her head would be once she got into the tub to make her more comfortable.
“Thank you so much for this,” she told them. “I’m all set. If you’ll be so kind as to leave, I can get undressed and into this inviting tub.”
“One more thing, Chicago.” Reed placed three birthday candles into one of the cupcakes. Then he lit them.
She was curious why he’d done that. “This isn’t my birthday. That’s in April, which has already passed.”
“Good to know, but that’s not what this is for, sweetheart,” Reed said. “We don’t want you thinking we’re barbarians. A woman likes candles with a good soak, right?”
The twinkle in his eyes made her grin. “Yes.”
“These are the only kind we have in the cabin. We have some lanterns we use when the electricity goes out, but he didn’t think that would be the same,” Sawyer added. “I told him it would be better to nix the candle idea and bring out a lantern instead.”
“No. I think it’s sweet.”
Reed smiled. “Told you.”
“Yes, you did,” Sawyer said, also smiling. “Let’s give the lady her privacy.”
As they walked out of the space, she held her change of clothes and gun in her hands and listened to the country music coming out of the docking station’s speakers.
Even though she’d lived her whole life in the Windy City, she’d been a fan of that genre of music just like her granddad. Lots of his fellow officers had teased him about it. She grinned recalling one time she’d heard him rebuff them for their jokes in his thick Chicago accent. “I was going ta take one of you ta see da Bearsss wid me. You forgot dat I won doze tickets on the fiddy-yard line from the radio station didn’t ya? I’m gonna take Nicky instead—at.” It was always funny how Granddad had often ended his sentences with extra words, mostly prepositions, that didn’t quite make sense.
God, she missed him. Suddenly, the old guilt swept through her. For the first year after he’d been diagnosed, she’d done her best. The next year—and the last of his life—she’d done her worst.
Sawyer paused, the sheet he was pushing aside still in his hand. His left eyebrow shot up. “Everything okay?”
She was normally better at keeping her poker face on. She placed her clean clothes and gun on the table by the tub. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“We’ll be inside if you need anything, Chicago.” Reed’s voice came from the other side of the cloth dividers.
“All you have to do is yell,” Sawyer instructed. “We’ll leave the door propped open so we can hear you.”
“Thank you. I will,” she said.
Sawyer nodded and lowered the sheet, leaving her in the outdoor retreat they’d created for her. She listened to their departing footsteps as they entered the cabin. With a big sigh, she plunged her fingertips below the water’s surface. The temperature was just right, nice and warm. She looked up into the pale blue sky, which was populated with puffy white clouds. Chicago had a few days with this kind of sky—but just a few—and could only be really viewed best on Lake Shore Drive, miles from where she and her grandfather had lived. There, up above the mid-rise buildings, only a strip of the heavens could be seen by the masses below.
She thought about pinching herself to make sure all of this was real. How long had it been since anyone waited on her?
Never.
