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“When you were reading directions off the map.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I should have listened to you. We probably wouldn’t have gotten stranded if I’d just trusted you.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “We were just doing our best under really shitty circumstances.” And that one sentence could sum up our entire relationship. “I’m…I’m sorry for getting impatient with you.”
He nods. I nod.
Turning back toward the cabin, my legs feel a bit shaky beneath me as I continue to trek up the path. My heart thumps at how good it felt to hear him say that.
It only serves as a reminder that my ex-husband really is a good guy. A rare breed. Not many men would have offered an apology in his place.
Together, we climb the short flight of stairs. “Here goes nothing…” My ex-husband lifts his hand to knock on the heavy wooden door.
But before his fist can even connect with the door, it swings open with awhoosh.
I suck in a gasp as a giant, old lumberjack with a cowboy hat greets us. But by ‘greets’ us, I mean‘aims a long, sawed off hunting rifle at our faces’.
“Now, who in the hell are you people?” The man growls.
10
DAVIS
Idon’t even have to think about it. I throw myself in front of Alana, shielding her from this rogue, trigger-happy cowboy.
Gulping hard, I stare down the barrel of a hunting rifle. Working for the sheriff’s department, even in a small town like Honey Hill, I’ve seen my life flash before my eyes more than a few times.
But I can tell you, this is not the way—or the day—I was expecting to go.
Pulse pounding. Stiff travel legs. Bladder full. One boot soggy from the puddle I stepped in a minute ago.
From the moment Alana climbed into my Jeep, I told myself this trip was going to be the death of me, but I didn’t mean it so literally.
Before I can play superhero and try to disarm this crazy lumberjack, an old hippie lady in a flowy skirt glides in out of nowhere. She pushes the angry man’s rifle aside.
“Oh, Jimmy! Move that thing out of these poor folks’s faces. I told you you’re gonna scare someone to death one day doing that,” the woman scolds.
“That’s the point,” her man pouts. The lumberjack, apparently known as Jimmy, slowly—and quite reluctantly—lowers his rifle. But since he doesn’t take his finger off the trigger, I can’t relax just yet.
The woman smiles, like her husband’s behavior is nothing out of the ordinary. She reaches forward, shaking my hand, then Alana’s. “I’m Rainbow.”
Ah. Now the multicolored streaks in her long, wispy hair make perfect sense.
She turns to her husband who is still shooting daggers at me with his eyes. “Now Dear, that was Ziggy on the phone just now. These are her friends from Honey Hill. They’re stranded and need a place to stay for tonight.” Rainbow pats her husband’s round belly as if to appease him.
Jimmy sizes me up again for a long moment. Then he offers a grim smile. “Well, any friend of Ziggy’s is a friend of mine, I guess.”
Geez. Way to be reassuring.
Idosigh with relief when he finally puts away the rifle, though. Looks like I’ll live to see another day.
But then I glance at Alana and my pulse starts speeding. On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, considering I’ll be stuck sleeping under the same roof as my ex tonight.
Satisfied, Rainbow pinches her man’s bearded chin to pull him down for a smacking kiss.
“Come, come. Get out of the rain.’’ She invites us inside and we follow the couple into the rustic home.
“This place is gorgeous,” Alana breathes out. “Like the pages of a storybook.”
I look around the space. She’s right. Ziggy’s aunt and uncle live in a modest log cabin that is homely and inviting. Quite the opposite of our initial welcome.
