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Rumor
I had spent the last four days tucked away in the little cottage, and I’d found more than just my body healing. The peaceful beauty was good for my soul. I knew this was temporary, but I clung to the serenity, soaking it in and hoping it was enough before I had to leave it behind.
Maeme had stopped by every day with something she’d made. I had more food than I would ever eat, but I found myself being able to enjoy it without fear of gaining a pound or two.
Yesterday, I had even braved going outside for a walk. There were two horses out for me to watch from afar. The breeze was cool, but the warm sunshine made it the perfect weather. The trees were already green, and the grass was lush and felt like velvet under my bare feet. It’d felt as if I were in a utopia, created in my own imagination.
The first two nights, I had feared I would wake up and this all would have been a dream.
This morning, when I had opened my eyes to hear the birds chirping and the sunshine pouring through the windows, I had smiled so big that my lip stung. The swelling in it was gone, but where it had broken open was still on the mend. Walking into the cheery yellow kitchen, barefoot, wearing whatever I wanted, and making my own cup of coffee with no fear—it’d made me want to weep with joy. If only I could stay in this house like this forever. It would be a perfect life.
I couldn’t let myself think like that. It was hard not to, but I knew this would come to an end. Staying would never be an option. If I pretended like it was, it would be harder in the end.
Taking my cup of coffee, I stepped out onto the front porch with a shawl over my shoulders I had found at the top of the bedroom closet. Sitting out here with the fresh morning air was becoming my favorite thing to do. Especially after waking up.
I just sat down and got comfortable when I saw the front of a familiar truck heading down the path toward the house. Running back inside to hide from King the way I had with the others would be rude. I didn’t know them. I’d only met them that first night at Maeme’s. Technically, I didn’t really know King either, but he had swooped in to save me when I had no one. I was here in this perfect corner of the world because of him.
His truck came to a stop a few feet in front of the house, and I watched as he stepped down from the shiny black Chevy. That smile of his spread across his face, and he gave me that head nod he was so good at, then tilted his cowboy hat back on his head so that I could see his eyes before he headed toward me.
“Morning,” he called out.
I pulled the shawl closer together over my tank top. I didn’t have on a bra yet, and I didn’t want to appear inappropriate.
“Good morning,” I replied.
King put one boot on the first step and leaned his elbow on the railing. “You seem to be settling in just fine,” he said. “House treating you good?”
I nodded. “Yes. It’s wonderful.”
His smile spread. “Good. Glad to hear it. I know Maeme has been bringing you food, but I was gonna see if you wanted to go with me to her house for breakfast. Sunday morning, she normally does it up right. She even makes these homemade waffles that are so damn fluffy and soft that you can’t stop at just one.”
I tensed. Maeme’s house and meals meant the others. I hadn’t seen them since Thatcher and Storm had brought the apple pie over. I’d been rude, but they had surprised me. I didn’t trust Thatcher. He was different. Terrifying really. In a way I couldn’t quite label. Seeing them after that didn’t sound appealing at all. I just wanted to stay here, alone.
“I think it is better if I don’t. I would be in the way, and if it’s a family meal, I shouldn’t—”
“If I go back and tell Maeme what you are about to say, she’s gonna drive back here herself and haul you to her house. Now, don’t make it hard on me. She sent me to get you, and I don’t want to let her down. Those waffles sure are something, and you can’t stay back here alone all the time. It’ll be good for you to be around folks. Visit.”
He was hard to tell no, but I had a feeling he knew that. It was probably why Maeme had sent him. He hadn’t come back here to get me of his own free will. When he had picked me up at the service station and given me a ride, I doubted he had known he’d end up being sent to convince me to do things all the time. It made me feel guilty.
Sighing, I nodded. “Okay. Let me just go inside and change.”
I stood up, and it was hard not to notice the way his eyes traveled down my body.
I wrapped the shawl tighter around me and hurried into the house. I knew every flaw my body had. Hill had made sure of it. He pointed out my problem areas and told me the exercises I needed to do to fix them. Although they were never fixed. He’d always blamed me for not trying hard enough. The sleep shorts I was wearing revealed too much leg. Having King look at my legs made me feel exposed. I hadn’t thought about it when I wore my sundress, but then I hadn’t caught him looking.
Reminding myself that I did not care what King thought of me or my body, I tried to focus on getting dressed quickly. I grabbed my jeans and a long-sleeved blouse. I would have to change later when the day was warmer, or I would sweat in this. But for now, I needed it. Slipping on my shoes, I headed back out to the front porch.
King was waiting on me right where I’d left him. He smiled brightly, then tilted his head toward the truck. “Let’s go eat,” he said before walking that way.
I followed behind as he went to the passenger door and opened it for me. His hand was already held out for me to take, palm up. Even his calluses were attractive. His hands were big, tanned, and used to hard work. Hill’s hands had been smooth and unblemished. He got manicures and pedicures regularly to keep them from looking bad. Yet those soft hands had hurt me painfully so many, many times. How much more damage could hands like King’s do?
When I lifted my eyes to look up at him, he smiled, and there was a kindness there in those turquoise depths that was unmistakable. Could he ever hurt a woman? After being raised by someone like Maeme? She wouldn’t have allowed such behavior. Unlike Hill’s mother, who I’d been told adored him when she had been alive. I’d never met her, but he spoke of her as if she had worshipped him and I should do the same. Maeme loved King, but she did not worship him. There was a difference. I’d witnessed it the little time I had seen them together.
I slipped my hand into his, and he helped me into the truck, making it almost too easy. Once he had my door closed, my gaze followed him. King Salazar was too perfect. There had to be a flaw somewhere. Yet even the way he carried himself, with a confidence I envied, was attractive.
I dropped my eyes to my lap when he opened his door and climbed inside the truck. Letting the scent that I was beginning to associate with King—cedar and cinnamon—appeal to my senses wasn’t helping matters.
I had to stop this…this…whatever it was I found myself doing. King was a man. I didn’t like men. I wanted to stay clear of them. I didn’t trust anyone stronger than me. Perhaps it was just the fact that he’d rescued me in a sense. I was drawn to him because he had led me to my first safe place. I didn’t live in fear here, and it was all because he had given me a ride.
