AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Nick eyed the row of cabins. Surely one of the ten remaining empty cabins could shelter him? He wasn’t picky. After all, he’d spent more than one rainy season trekking in Thailand and ending up with rotten boots and nasty blisters, sleeping in huts, on the beaches, and in trees. He’d volunteered in Sri Lanka, staying in hostels with no walls, only palm-thatched roofs. And a lot of bugs.
But here in Cooper Springs, it was winter and there was just the tiny fact that the electricity to the cabins had been turned off for safety reasons. There was running water but no way to stay warm or to cook. Two of the cabins needed new flooring, and they all needed new roofs, and his had just been added to the list.
“Whatever you’re thinking? Absolutely not,” Martin said adamantly.
Nick ignored him. He could probably make do. All he needed were some camping supplies. Liam probably had something he could borrow. Incredibly, the little lean-to where he stored his chainsaw and carvings was undamaged. He’d stashed a small camp stove inside as well after picking it up for a few dollars, thinking it might come in handy.
“I could—”
“No. You can’t.” Martin’s expression was grim as he shook his head. “It’s not safe,” he repeated. “And if I discover you staying in one of those with a camp stove, I will evict you and keep your cat. I know you, er, the Davieses paid you with a roof over your head, and you’re welcome to stay with me so I can keep up my end of the bargain I agreed to when I purchased. It’s damn small, but we’ll manage.”
How had Martin known he had a stove? Nick opened his mouth to accuse him of sneaking around his stuff but snapped it shut again when he spotted the stove’s dark green lid from where they were standing.
Martin was right, and Nick knew it. It was dangerous to use a propane cooker without proper ventilation, but Martin’s promise to evict him sparked his latent anger again.
“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. I don’t need charity from you.”
As much as Nick hated it, he was going to have to ask Liam if he could crash at his place until his little cabin was back in shape.
“I’ll find somewhere to stay. One of my friends will have space.”
Martin’s expression told him he had a hard time believing Nick had any friends in town. Even if it pissed him off, Martin wasn’t exactly wrong. Nick had one real friend and one real friend only. If Liam couldn’t help him, he was fucked.
“You ask around and let me know,” Martin said grimly, wrenching a long bough aside. “Let’s get started.”
Even with rain still falling, and the wind generally trying to subvert all the work they were doing, it took them less than an hour to retrieve what could be salvaged of Nick’s over to Martin’s cabin.
Nick stared gloomily down at the pathetic pile of belongings on the living room floor—half of which was cat supplies he’d bought when Xavier drove him to Aberdeen. His gear and laptop—totally fine. His clothing, not that he’d had a lot to start with, was soaking wet and embedded with dirt and pine needles. He nudged the pile with his toe. Nothing else in the cabin was worth saving. The few paperbacks he’d had were spongy masses; they could go in the skip Martin was having delivered.
His clothes probably weren’t worth saving either, but Nick didn’t have a choice. Thankfully, Martin had a one-piece washer and dryer tucked in next to the bathroom. His first load was already agitating in the washing machine.
Together, they’d managed to wrangle a blue tarp over what was left of the roof, so not much more rainwater was getting inside. Nick had used his chainsaw to cut the smaller tree limbs out of the way, but they were going to need a bigger one for the rest. And, if the burr and rumble of chainsaws coming from across town was any indication, Martin and Nick weren’t the only ones who’d woken up to damage.
“At least there’s firewood,” Martin had grumbled as he pulled the largest limbs away from the structure.
Now Martin was out front, talking to someone. Nick could only hear his voice, so he assumed Martin was on the phone. Hitching Martin’s running pants up for the fiftieth time that morning, he headed back outside, passing by Martin without saying anything. He needed to talk to Liam, and sooner rather than later.
“Excuse me, what?” Nick repeated, thinking he hadn’t heard correctly the first time.
Liam shook his head again, his expression regretful but resigned. “There’s water in the auto shop. Silas is staying on my couch until he can get it sorted out, and I think he’s allergic to cats, too. Maybe Magnus can put you up? Or, I dunno, Forrest?”
Nick knew he shouldn’t have mentioned the cat.
Liam’s cottage had one bedroom and what he jokingly called a bonus room. The bedroom was so small that Liam’s mattress touched three walls, and the bonus room was filled with his chainsaws and whatnot. Nick had figured he could crash on his couch. Or the floor.
But, dammit, the resort wasn’t the only property with damage. The chorus of chainsaws revving was almost a cacophony and had come at Nick from all directions as he’d walked to Liam’s house.
“Why can’t you stay at Purdy’s?” Liam wanted to know. “You already live there.”
Nick clenched his jaw and counted to thirty before answering.
“The other cabins are worse off than mine.”
“Not Purdy’s though, am I right?”
“No.” Nick forced the words out. “His place is fine.”
“So? Did he offer you a place to stay?”
