Page 18 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
A lake house with all the amenities. A close family. Of course. She’s probably never been without creature comforts in her life. Her sister is a famous actress, for goodness’ sake. The reality of her situation—of being stuck up here in the wilds—must be hitting her hard.
“Can you hand me that wrench?” I point to the toolbox.
She steps carefully into the shed, mindful of the low doorway, and passes me the wrench.
Our fingers brush in the exchange, but I ignore the spark of awareness, and focus on examining connections that don’t really need checking.
“Is it broken? The generator, I mean. Obviously, the generator. Not the wrench.” She shifts her weight, leaning against the doorframe. “Sorry, I know I’m talking a lot. I do that when I’m nervous. Not that you’re making me nervous. You’ve been really generous, letting me stay and all. But you’re quiet. And I’m not used to it. Not that there’s anything wrong with being quiet.” She pauses. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“You’re right. Sorry. Shit.” She groans. “I’ll shut up now.”
I count in my head.One. Two. Three.
“Amber’s always been the quiet one, if you’d believe that. Could sit for hours just reading or thinking. Me? Five minutes of silence when someone else is right there, and I’m climbing the walls. Drives her crazy.” Her voice catches. “I keep doing that. Talking about her like... but she could be fine. She could be perfectly fine somewhere.”
I glance back. She’s hugging herself again, staring out at the mountains beyond the shed.
“Talk about her however feels right,” I tell her, turning back to the generator.
“I managed everything for her. Auditions, appearances, schedules. She’s an actress. So talented. I’ve always just kept her life running smoothly.” Her voice drops. “There’s nothing I didn’t know about. Nothing I didn’t organize for her. She wouldn’t just disappear without telling me.”
The pain in her voice is raw. I finish my inspection, wipe my hands on the rag hanging from a nail, and stand. Everything’s running fine, as always. I never really planned to do it. It was just a ruse to get out of the cabin and clear my head, but when she wanted to tag along… and then she started talking…
This was just busywork, something to do with my hands, while she processed out loud.
“All good?” she asks, stepping back so I can exit the shed. “No power cuts coming in the middle of the night? I don’t think I could take it.”
The sad thing is, I bet she’d handle it just fine.
“Always is. Just routine maintenance,” I assure her, and when she smiles in relief, I feel like a king.
We start the walk back to the cabin, and I’m hyper-aware of her presence at my side. The sun’s higher now, warming the air, which is filled with the normal sounds of nature that she probably doesn’t even notice over the noise in her head.
“Must be nice,” she says softly, “being up here. Knowing what each day will bring.”
There’s no accusation in it, just wistfulness. I glance at her. She’s watching the trees sway, deep in thoughts, arms wrapped around herself.
“Beau will come with any updates,” I offer awkwardly. “If there’s news, he won’t keep it from you.”
She nods, trying for a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I know.”
When we reach the back door, I hold it open for her, and she passes through, her hair now smelling of my soap, and pauses in the mudroom beside me to pull off the borrowed boots. The cabin feels smaller with both of us in it. I’m acutely aware of her in my space, disrupting my solitude and teasing my senses.
She hovers in the kitchen while I rinse the grease from my hands. I watch her gaze sweep the living room, looking for something.
“No TV,” I say. My tone is defensive, wanting her to like it here, despite knowing the chances of that are slim.
She startles slightly then tries to cover it. “Oh. I wasn’t... I mean...”
“It’s fine. Most people expect one.”
Damn it.My bear is unhappy with her displeasure. I had an old one before, just to watch movies on, but when Mason fell into it one fall after a few too many beers, I never bothered replacing it.
“I just thought...” She stops, jaw tightening. “I guess I’m not used to the quiet.”
She’s trying to hide her shock. No TV. No internet. And absolutely no connection to the outside world while she’s stuck in a tiny cabin with a complete stranger.
