Chapter 2

Hunter

Friday 7.28pm

I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have let her think I know Bob, whoever the fuck he is. I shouldn’t have offered to stay. But it’s been a while since I had a solid roof over my head, and since she wasn’t staying, it seemed a waste of an opportunity.

I sink down to my haunches and chew some beef jerky, thinking over my options.

This spot is like an oasis for a guy like me. It’s almost a shame she’s coming back tomorrow morning, I could have stayed a little longer.

I could have used the hot springs again, set up camp, borrowed a little more of her firewood, fished in the river. None of that is possible if she’s planning on being here too.

Not that I’d mind hanging out with a hot redhead with killer curves for a couple of days.

The thought stops me cold. Is that why I’m sticking around? Am I hoping something is going to happen? I lean my head back against the wall and laugh at how stupid I am.

She didn’t mention a boyfriend or a husband, but it’s not much of a stretch to think if she had one he’d be up here with her.

With nothing else to do apart from wonder why Natalie was okay with leaving me here, I carry on working until my eyelids are drooping.

I check the rest of the cabin before I decide to risk sleeping on the plastic-covered mattress in the larger of the two bedrooms.

I grab my pack, make sure the door and window are closed and try to grab some sleep before she arrives either with coffee or with Bob.

It’s too late to do anything about it now, and since technically cleaning a woman’s house isn’t a crime, there’s no sense moving on until she or someone else tells me to.

I yawn, switch off my flashlight and fall asleep trying not to think about a woman who under normal circumstances wouldn’t give me the time of day.

***

The sun is creeping through the streaked window when I hear her arrive. I gave up wearing a watch, so I can only guess at the time from the height of the sun in the sky.

I pull myself up to sitting, rolling my shoulders back as the smell of coffee wafts towards me.

A smile twitches at my mouth. Coffee. No angry dude called Bob, then?

I yank my shirt over my head and rub the sleep from my eyes as I pull the door closed.

She’s standing beside the table, coffee in each hand, wearing the same molded jeans, boots and t-shirt from yesterday, her hair is tied back, red strands escaping around her forehead and temple.

Her blue eyes lock on to mine as she gestures around the cabin with the coffee cup. “You’ve done so much. How late did you stay up?”

I shrug and take the coffee from her hand. “I have no idea.”

She shakes her head. “Wow. Okay, well, Hunter, what you’ve done, it’s amazing.”

Her feet edge a little closer as I test out the coffee she’s brought me. She pulls a face as I drink. “Is that okay? I’m kind of a black coffee drinker, but most people I know take cream and sugar.”

I’ve barely taken a sip when she’s holding out hers. “You can take mine. After everything you did…”

I shake my head. “This is fine. I don’t have strong feelings about coffee.”

Her brow knots together, blue eyes popping a little. “Do you know how refreshing that is to hear? Everyone I know has a strong opinion on everything these days.”

I chuckle, and she seems to remember she brought more than coffee. She reaches around to grab the brown paper bag on the table. “I took a gamble and got three for you.”

I accept the bag, while she looks uncertain like I’m planning on rejecting her choice, so I grab the first donut I see and jam it into my mouth. “I have no strong preference on donuts either,” I say between mouthfuls.

She chuckles, low and throaty. “You don’t say? What do you have strong feelings about?”

I shrug. “Things that matter.”

The smile disappears from her face, and she frowns at her coffee. “The problem is that people don’t always agree on what matters.”

I couldn’t agree more, but it’s too early for deep and meaningful conversation.

She sighs and looks out the door she left open then scratches her head. “You’ve already been a huge help. At this rate, I may actually be able to salvage some of the weekend.”

I nod and swallow more of my coffee down. “You have plans?”

Her eyebrows rise as she shakes her head. “Just work. Nothing that can’t wait.”

She doesn’t offer any more information, so I follow her outside to finish the bag of donuts and my coffee.

I take a lungful of crisp mountain air and smile as I find her doing the same. Only she’s lifting her chin; eyes closed, full lips slightly open.

I allow myself a second to appreciate her sculpted cheekbones before my inner primate sends my eyeballs appreciating the way her jeans fit her ass and hips.

She stretches her arms above her head and yawns. All the blood rushes to my skin as my eyes slide to where her breasts are straining against her t-shirt.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This is not the time or the place to even be thinking about a woman as fine as Natalie.

I pull myself together before she finds me ogling her like a schoolboy, and head back down to the stream.

The sooner I finish up here, the sooner I can move on and stop thinking about her.

I carry on hauling buckets up to the cabin while she scrubs on her hands and knees, not complaining once about cleaning the toilet, about clearing the drain and not once filling the silence with meaningless chatter.

That and the fact that I’ve only seen her check her phone once since I’ve been here makes it even harder to ignore my growing attraction.

When we stop for a break, and she looks so pleased with what I’ve done for her, it makes me start thinking about other things I can do for her.

Most of those things involve taking her down to the hot springs and washing all the grime off her body.

It’s too tempting. She’s too tempting.

I figure I’ve just about reached my capacity for her goodwill, so while she’s getting us some water from her truck, I start to pack up, ready to leave.

I’m zipping up my pack when she strolls through the door with a bottle of water in each of her hands. “I should be going.”

Her face falls, posture sags, and her lips part in a silent ‘O’ like she’s disappointed I’m leaving.

She recovers quickly and hands me the water. “Of course. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done.”

Her brow puckers. “Um, can I pay you? I mean, I feel like I should pay you.”

I shake my head. “Not needed.”

I can see her formulating a protest, so I haul my backpack over my shoulder. “See you around.”

She swallows, the faintest of smiles on her face. “Oh, okay. Sure. Thanks again.”

I shift so I can step around her, but she seems glued to the floor. Her lip catches her teeth. “Sorry, would you mind, if it’s not too much trouble, I need to check on the roof. I think it’s safer if you hold the ladder.”

I cock my head. “I already fixed the leak on the roof.”

Her jaw drops, and her cheeks turn crimson. “But how did you know what needed to be done?”

I have no answer. I can’t say I noticed the problem a couple weeks ago when I was in the area, so I just stare at her perfect lips.

Her eyes lock on to mine, and her breathing seems to be increasing. “Didn’t you have to go?”

I rub my neck and try for a casual nod. “Yeah.”

She pulls a face at me but finally shifts so I can leave. I start to walk away, wondering if I really do need to go when I hear her leave the cabin behind me.

I’m at her truck when I notice the clouds are starting to roll in over the mountains. If she does end up sleeping here tonight, and the cabin’s clean enough that she can now, she’ll stay dry enough.

The track entrance leading up the mountain is two feet away when I hear her half yelp, half scream. Adrenaline rushes through me as I pivot and run back to the cabin.

I don’t know her well enough to know whether she screams for lame reasons, but when I reach the cabin, out of breath and find her rocking back and forth holding her ankle, I’m pretty sure she’s legit.

I unclip my pack and toss it to one side and crouch down. Her eyes are watering, and she has red swelling and a cut on her cheek. “What happened?”

She looks about ready to burst into tears when she gestures to the ladder. “I slipped.”

“Why did you need the ladder? I told you I fixed the leak.”

Her bottom lip starts wobbling as she looks at her ankle, her shoulders are shaking. “I know. I was just carrying the ladder around to the shed.”

I’m still confused as to how she managed to hurt herself carrying a ladder, but she’s getting pale, and rain is starting to fall.

I grip her chin gently and examine the cut on her cheek. “How did you do this?”

She looks decidedly green when she swallows. “I think the ladder smacked my face. I’m such a klutz.”

I shake my head and look her over. “You think you can stand?”

She nods and looks testy I’d even ask such a thing. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a hand up.”

I do as she says, but when she whimpers as she places weight on her foot, I grab her under the legs and swing her up into my arms.

She’s not a lightweight, but her weight isn’t what is making it hard to breathe as I carry her into the cabin. It’s the way she’s lacing her fingers around my neck and pressing her body against mine.

I haven’t talked to a woman in too long to remember, let alone have one snuggled against me.

Natalie doesn’t say a word as I carry her through the cabin and into the bedroom I slept in. I lay her on the bed as gently as I can. “I need to get my pack before the weather gets worse. You have a first aid kit in your car?”

She nods and shifts so her back is against the wall. “It’s in the backseat. Can you drive? I mean, would you mind driving me back to the valley?”

I freeze, trying to think of how to answer what seems like a perfectly reasonable request. “I’ll get the kit first.”

She doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t say anything as I back out of the room. The rain has started to fall even harder, so I jog to her truck and find the kit where she said it would be.

I close the door to the rain and try to think of a good reason to explain why I can’t drive her down the track.

She looks even worse when I get back; it’s obvious she’s been crying. She’s managed to take her boot off, and even in the failing light, I can see the bruising already appearing.

I open the cupboard in the room and search for pillows and blankets. Everything smells musty, so I shake out the faded bedding and stack the pillows beside her foot.

Natalie flinches as I lift her foot so I can place the pillows underneath. Neither of us is talking, and normally I’d think that was good, but she’s shivering, and her lips are too pale. “You need something for the pain.”

She nods, but her voice is shaking so much she’s dangerously close to teeth chattering. “I, I think, it’s, it’s, a sprain.”

I’m not so sure, but I’m not in a position to argue, I dig around in the first aid kit, but don’t find any pain meds.

I grab my flashlight again and leave her to do a quick check to see if anything of use has been left inside the cabin cupboards.

I’m relieved to find candles, matches, tinned food, and an incredibly dusty bottle of whiskey, which is the closest thing to pain relief I can find.

Worst come to worst, we’ll be dry, have light and enough food to last until she can drive again.

I take the bottle back with me and sit alongside her. “For the pain,” I say as I hand it to her.

She takes the bottle with shaking hands and takes a large swig, wincing as she eyes me like she’s expecting me to say something.

She doesn’t talk, just takes a few more swigs, shuddering as she swallows. I rest my head against the wall and listen to the rain falling harder outside.

Natalie sounds sleepy when she exhales slowly. “Thank you.”

I tilt my head so I can see her. “What for?”

She turns her head and looks right at me. “For being nice.”

My laugh comes out brittle. Nice? There is little about me that is nice. “Sure.”

The light from outside is fading, so I flick on my flashlight and leave it propped up on the nightstand so it lights up one corner of the room.

“I should call my father. I need to tell him how helpful you’ve been.”

My heart jolts about. “Maybe he can come get you?”

She sighs heavily and eases herself up. She’s stopped shaking so I guess the whiskey is doing its thing. “My father is too sick to drive. That’s why I’m up here cleaning. We’re selling the cabin at the end of the month.”

Natalie leaves the whiskey bottle on the nightstand and leans forwards so she can pull the first aid kit closer. “I should be putting ice on this. But it can wait till I get to the hotel. Could you give me a hand wrapping it?”

I move without thinking and grab the crepe bandage and push up her jean leg. She watches me carefully as I unwind it but doesn’t flinch as I slowly wrap her ankle and foot.

I retake my place beside her, trying to remember the last time I was in bed with a beautiful woman. “How’s the pain?”

Her voice carries a slight waver, but she seems better. “Bearable. Should we try to get to the truck?”

I grasp my moment while I have the chance. “The rain is getting heavier. There’s a possibility the track to the valley will wash out. We could wait it out. I can carry on working inside.”

She looks so shocked that I almost laugh. “You’d do that? For me?”

It doesn’t take much thought for me to answer, and for once, I’m being truthful. “Yeah. I’d do that for you.”