Page 20 of Protected

It feels like a vacation, and I’m not the only one. Everyone’s spirits are up as we spread out through the house to find our individual sleeping spaces.

I try not to notice and then try not to care, but I can’t help seeing that Trisha almost immediately claims the small bedroom on the first floor with only one single bed in it. It’s the only spot that will offer real privacy since there are so many of us. Everyone else will need to share rooms.

Her explanation—that her leg is too injured to walk up the stairs—is actually a good one. It’s fair. Of courseshe can’t make it upstairs to share one of the larger rooms on the second and third floors.

I wish her presence wouldn’t rankle so much. I need to work on my attitude.

Maybe it’s because I’m still not used to being around other people. For so long it was just me and Hal, and then it was only me.

As always, I retreat into a corner to wait for everyone else to get their first choice. Deck disappeared somewhere, so I stand in the hall of the second floor and look out the window, waiting to see what’s left after everyone else has found their space.

I jump when someone touches my shoulder.

Deck. I wasn’t paying attention, or I would have known he was approaching. He frowns, visibly unhappy that I’m standing here instead of claiming a spot. He motions vigorously to follow him.

With a sigh, I do. He probably wants to inspect my leg to make sure I’m not hiding a secret injury.

He walks upstairs to the third floor and then down a hall and up a few more winding steps to a weirdly shaped room in one of the turrets. There’s a custom-made bunk bed built into the curved wall and nothing else in the space except a wide stretch of window.

Charmed, I smile as I gaze around at the adorable room. He motions me into the bottom bunk, and I immediately set my bag on the mattress.

The bunk beds were clearly designed for little girls. They’re still made up with pretty spreads and sheets featuring princess accessories like glass slippers andtiaras. It would have been a dream room for me when I was a child, and it’s still the sweetest space I’ve ever seen.

Deck is peering at my face, no doubt looking for my reaction. “I love it,” I say. “But maybe I should wait to make sure no one else wants to sleep here.”

He shakes his head.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll take it then. Maybe Burgundy will want the top bunk.”

With another shake of his head, he purposefully sets his pack on the upper mattress.

I snicker. “All right. If you want to beat out Burgundy for the pretty princess bed, then I have no objections.”

I really don’t have any objections. I’m used to him sleeping nearby now. He almost always does.

And I feel safer that way.

The house has a functioning well that still provides good quality water. That’s a huge advantage, saving us the trouble of boiling water from creeks and streams.

After I get my stuff settled in my bed, I go downstairs to volunteer to help with dinner preparations.

Micah likes to cook, so he and I have a great time pulling out ingredients from all the canned and dried food available in the huge pantry. We make a big pot of chili with canned beans, seasoned tomatoes and chili peppers, and some sort of roast beef product that tastes surprisingly good. We mix a fruit salad with cans of peaches, pears, and mandarin oranges.

Everything is delicious, and a couple of the men make a big bonfire in the yard. We sit outside and eat our meal around it, telling stories and joking.

I have a better time than I can remember having since Impact.

Afterward, there’s still some sunlight and the air is warm, so Burgundy and I wash up in the nearby creek with some body soap we find in the supplies. I wash my hair with shampoo for the first time in months.

I put on a loose cotton dress I found in the back of a closet with some other women’s clothes. The dress isn’t at all flattering. It never had much shape—just falling straight down from short sleeves, and it’s way too big for me. But it’s incredibly comfortable, and I don’t want to put my dirty clothes back on my clean body.

Burgundy found a dress to put on too. Hers is more flattering than mine, but I don’t really care.

I’m not trying to look beautiful for anyone.

Some folks are still gathered around the dying fire, but a lot of others have scattered. I see Trisha, and it looks like she’s flirting with Logan, which makes me hide a chuckle.

She can try, but the man is as impenetrable as a stone statue. I really don’t think she’ll have any luck with that.

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