Page 7 of Kaede
“More?” I ask, skeptically.
“Just put the suitcase in the back of the car, Mr. Twenty Questions.” She holds up the keys. “I forgot my snacks in the cabin. Can you start my car to get it warm and I’ll run in and grab them?”
I examine the tin-can of a car. “You think I’m going to fit in there?”
“Just start it. I’m not asking for you to drive it anywhere.”
Snowflakes start dusting the air. I briefly consider inviting her to stay. She’ll be in a cabin by herself for days, if I don’t. I look at my phone. The forecast wasn’t showing snow hours ago when I was in Helena to drop off some of my leather goods at the store, but that’s Montana weather— changes faster than the second hand on a clock.
The front door closes.
I reach in and stick the key in the ignition, step a boot on the brake, contorting my body to avoid becoming a call to 911 for a man stuck in a car, and I turn the key…
And nothing.
I try it again.
Nothing.
“Is there something wrong?” she asks behind me and I slip carefully out of the car.
I could probably give her car a jump, but where’s the fun in that.
“Nope. You’re staying here, honey.”
5
WILLOW
“Can you just drive me to Wyatt’s?” Outside of his cabin, I hold up my phone, searching for a signal. Whatever one I had in the cabin to text with Daisy is now a faint memory.
I point to my right. “There’s a snowstorm that’s just crossed the ridge and it’ll be here during the night. I take you over there and you’re not getting out until middle of next week when Wyatt comes home from seeing his family. No one plows his drive because he has a four-wheel-drive truck that he doesn’t care about and just plows through mud, snow, whatever.”
“Then take me to Boone and Daisy’s.”
I can’t be alone with this man. And it’s not that I’m scared of him.
I’m scared of myself.
He grabs my hand. “You’re staying.”
“No. I’m going. I’ll just walk there. It’s what, half a mile?”
“Seven miles.”
“Seven? How deep is that creek? Can I just jump across it?”
“No, feather-feet, you can’t jump the ravine that’s twenty-feet wide.”
My shoulders slump forward. “Are you sure?”
“Willow, I’m not going to let you freeze out here in your car. You can have the bed and I’ll take the couch. Tomorrow I’ll talk to Boone about coming to get you.”
“Can you get my suitcase from the car?”
“Do I look like your butler?”
“I cleaned your house. Do I look like the fucking maid?” I enjoy the banter we have going too much.
