Page 9 of Roads Behind Us
I grimaced and Bax laughed. The weightless sound changed his face, and for the first time since I’d arrived, I noticed a light in his eyes. He looked the way he had in the pictures I’d seen in his brother’s office, before life rained hell down on him, with his beautiful, tall, blond wife by his side and little Athena flashing a goofy smile with dirt stains on the knees of her leggings.
Maybe it was Bax’s height making me suddenly worried about how I appeared to him. He towered over me with his solid six-one or six-two frame. Compared to my measly five feet and two teeny, tiny inches, he was a giant, and my southern upbringing had tried to ingrain in me that a big man was the guy in charge in most situations. What a load of horse shit, but still, the urge to defer to him for safety or knowledge was there.
And it pissed me the fuck off.
“What do you drink then?”
“Water or coffee.”
“I don’t know if my sister brought coffee, but if not, come up to the house when you wake up. I’ve always got some brewin’.”
“Thanks,” I said as he unlocked the cabin’s door with a key.
He handed it to me, swung the door wide with the bottom of one crutch, and then hobbled back two steps to let me go ahead of him. “There’s another key up at the house, in case you lose this one. I hung it next to the kitchen door on a hook. The keychain is leather with the number one on it.”
The comforting smell of Western red cedar filled my nose as I stepped over the threshold. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Athena picked out the sheets and pillows and stuff for you.” He moved behind me and stood to the side of the little loveseat in front of the cabin’s front window next to the door. “And she said we had to get you this blanket. It can get pretty cold out here early in the mornin’.”
I turned and saw a thick, fuzzy, sage-green throw draped over the back of the loveseat. Sitting carefully on a cushion, I touched it with the tips of my fingers, then let them flatten over the softest thing I’d ever felt. My best friend Bree from grade school let me hold her pet chinchilla once, and I remembered marveling at how soft his fur had been.
Athena’s blanket was softer.
Closing my eyes, I smoothed my hand back and forth over the fabric, brushing uneven lines in the fleecy softness.
What a nice thing for a kid to do. In fact, it was the nicest thing anyone had done for me in a very long time, to think of such a sweet comfort for me, a complete stranger. It never would’ve occurred to me to leave something like a soft blanket for a guest I’d never met. I couldn’t wait to snuggle up beneath it in my PJs.
Bax cleared his throat. “So, the bedroom’s over there.” He pointed to his right with his crutch.
The cabin Brand had set up for me was the only habitable structure so far of the ten Lee Valley cabins, and the smallest of the lot. The layout reminded me of a corporate apartment, but the place was all mountain-cabin vibes, with lots of wood and simple, timeless features. The open living room and kitchen set-up, with only a five-foot-wide wall to hold the fireplace and separate the spaces, took up the majority of the floor plan.
To my right was the bedroom with just enough space for a queen bed, a long dresser, and a rocking chair in the corner. A shallow closet lined one bedroom wall, and a soft light shone out from the attached bathroom featuring a bath and shower, a toilet, and a single-fixture sink, with storage for towels and toiletries underneath.
The cabin really was perfect for a single renter.
Athena had decorated the bed simply with another green blanket and matching pillowcases, but the comforter looked poofy and lush, with red and rust-orange fall leaves printed on top. A Mason jar sat atop a basic, solid-wood bedside table with real wildflowers dropped into three inches of water, and a traveler’s guide to the Grand Teton National Park lay next to it.
When I turned back to him, I caught Bax watching me move around the bedroom. He shifted his weight onto his good leg and gripped his crutches’ handles tightly.
I get it, buddy. This ain’t the most ideal situation for me either. At least I’m gettin’ paid to be here. What’s your excuse?
Clearing his throat, he said, “There’s a temporary power pole outside, about a hundred yards down the lane. Everything runs off that till the power company connects the cabins to the grid. It’s in the works. Hopefully they’ll get it done in the next few weeks, but if the lights go out?—”
“I know what to do. Brand said he’d leave a portable gas-powered generator for me in the closet.” I walked past Bax and slid open the closet door. “It’s right here.”
“Oh, okay. Good,” Bax said when I backed out of the way so he could see the little square generator on the closet floor. “Brand thought of everything.”
“It’s kinda his job.”
“Right. You know, now you’re here, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to stay?—”
“This is perfect,” I said, cutting him off before he could get all chivalrous. Looking around the cabin again, I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Besides, Brand knew me well. I lived alone and preferred small spaces. Empty rooms, in my opinion, were a waste, and they kind of freaked me out in the dark. My apartment back in Sheridan was a studio, and it suited me perfectly.
“Okay, but seriously, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to stay up at the house if you’d be more comfortable.”
“Thanks, but I prefer the solitude, and I think it’ll be better if I’m closer to the work. I’m not too worried about the houses gettin’ done, but the cabins are another story.”
