Page 15 of Aviator
“Of course. The guest room’s empty. Don’t mind Dean. He’s more bark than bite.” He gives me a pointed look. “Help her with her bags.”
I have to remind myself that she is the key to the most lucrative payday of my life, and I’m not about to let it slip away. Gritting my teeth, I nod in agreement. There’s no going back now. “Fine. Let’s get your stuff, princess.”
I turn and march out the door, expecting Kenna to follow. I can feel her eyes burning holes in my back as I walk away. I wait for her at the bottom of the front stairs, arms folded across my chest, staring off into nothingness, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into until she finally joins me.
“I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to do this,” she says in a voice raised over the howling wind.
Leveling her with a hard stare, I say, “Don’t thank me. I’m only doing it to get you out of here. If your sister really is with Jamie, then you won’t be able to find them. If there’s anything he’s good at, it’s disappearing. Didn’t Kady tell you? He was Marine Recon. But I’ll fly you up there, look around. I’m just looking at this as easy money. I’m not here to be anyone’s hero. Especially yours. Got it?”
Kenna steps back as if shocked by my words and then nods slowly. Good. I don’t want any misunderstandings. She may be sunshine and rainbows, but I’m a goddamn nuclear fallout in comparison.
After she gets her stuff from the back of her rental, we walk silently back into the house. I show her to the small spare bedroom at the end of the hall on the main floor. It isn’t much, just a full bed with a nightstand and an empty dresser, but she won’t have to wander around town looking for somewhere to stay.
Kenna hesitates when I move to leave like she’s going to say something, then jerks her head. I’m not the type of guy to extend her any further hospitality, so I shut the door between us, feeling the tension inside me unfurling now that there’s some distance.
I help Gramps to bed, then retreat to my room. I lay there as the snow falls like a heavy blanket outside the window, smothering light and hope beneath its weighty embrace.
* * *
I knock on her door the following dawn, but there’s no response. Worried, I slowly push it open to find her dozing peacefully, the abandoned cat snuggled in a pile of scraggly fur on her stomach. I move to her and disturb the cat, who hisses as it leaps from the bed and slinks out of the room. I make a mental note to call the rescue when I get back from this gig. That beast isn’t staying here a moment longer than necessary. Just like this woman. With the blanket freed up, I move it to cover her a little more fully. Why? I don’t attempt to define my reasoning.
I shake Kenna’s shoulder gently, rousing her from a deep sleep. “Kenna, it’s time to get up.” My voice comes out sharp and gravely, my gaze locked on her face.
She opens her eyes. A flush of embarrassment spreads across the apples of her cheeks when she notices me standing next to her, and recognition dawns. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her voice hoarse with sleep. “I thought I set an alarm. Though it’s not unheard of for me to snooze it a few times. I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”
I nod curtly, needing distance. Everywhere she is, there seems to be too little oxygen available. “It’s fine. You can use the shower and get cleaned up if you want. Then we’ll head out. Helicopter will be ready in about an hour so that’ll be plenty of time.”
Leaving her to shower and do. . . whatever it is women do, I head out back to tend to the animals and do a quick prep to insulate their structures against the coming storm. It’s already snowing lightly, and it doesn’t seem like it’ll be stopping anytime soon. Gramps used to love to tend to them, but as much as he likes to say otherwise, he doesn’t get around as well as he used to. Last summer, I set up an automatic water dispenser in the pens so there’s always fresh water, even if it froze. I double up the food in their feeders just in case and make a mental note to ask Margaret to top them off if she sees they’re running low. She normally gets the eggs when I’m gone and gives the animals a once-over to make sure there’s no emergency.
A quick call to Lawrence on the way back inside confirms the R44 is ready and waiting for us with the supplies all set—emergency medical kit, radio with GPS, fuel, flairs, and survival gear. Not that I’ve ever had the use for any of it, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. The scent of pine permeates the frigid mountain air, and I take deep breaths as I climb up the porch steps and enjoy the way the chill fills me up, clearing my mind.
It’s going to be a long day, but hopefully, I’ll be back here in time for a beer with Gramps and my own bed—alone.
Pushing through the front door, the scent of fresh coffee greets me, and I find Margaret with Gramps in the living room. I give her a nod, and she waves as she lays a blanket over Gramps’ legs just in time for that damn cat to jump up and make himself at home. I send it a narrowed look over the rim of my coffee cup. I won’t have time to call the shelter today, but it’s the first thing on my list when I get back. Farm animals, yes. Strays, no. I don’t get attached to the livestock, as they serve a purpose, but pets require a kind of emotional commitment that’s far outside my capabilities.
I bring my coffee over to the living room and lean a shoulder against the picture frame entryway that separates the two spaces. “You up for dealing with him for a little while?” I ask Margaret, who smiles up at me warmly.
She glances up at me through thin-framed glasses perched on her thin nose. “I’ll manage. You sure ya’ll will be okay going out in this storm? Weather report says it’s going to be hairy up there. Those cabins are mostly deserted; too remote for tourists, and you get all sorts of crazies with it being so isolated.”
“Don’t fuss, Marge. The boy can handle himself. Besides, that girl’s worried plum sick about her sister. She seemed determined enough that she’d wander off by herself if Dean here doesn’t go with her.”
Margaret harrumphs and settles back in the chair opposite Gramps. She gives me a tight smile. “Still think you should wait for the weather to pass, but I know there’s no talking you out of it. Just be careful.”
Kenna walks in then, her cheeks flushed from the shower or whatever the hell she’s put on them, and her brown eyes glow with warmth when she spots Gramps beaming at her. I scowl into my cup. Isn’t he supposed to be on my side? Traitor.
“Is that coffee I smell?” she says after greeting everyone.
Margaret gestures to the kitchen when I keep a stony silence. “Help yourself. It’s not fancy, but it’s fresh. Thermoses are in the cabinet if you want to take it with you.”
“You’re an angel. Thank you so much,” Kenna says with a huge smile at Margaret. If I could frown while drinking, I would have. How is she this chipper so early in the morning? It’s not normal. I swear if she’s like this all day, I may lose my mind. Give me the rambunctious, drunken billionaires any day.
Margaret starts doling out Gramps’ medication, and I give him a squeeze and murmur goodbye before heading back to my room to retrieve an overnight bag. It doesn’t hold much, just a change of clothes, basic toiletries, and an extra phone charger. I also carry concealed, so my gun goes in the bag as well. Throwing the bag over my shoulder, I leave the room and find Kenna with her own bag over her shoulder and a steaming thermos of coffee clasped between her hands.
“Thanks again, Dean. I really app—”
“Save it,” I interrupt. “I don’t need your appreciation, princess. All that matters to me is that your check doesn’t bounce.”
Her gaze cools a little, and her mouth twitches. “I’ve already sent the deposit over. Half up front, right? You can check now so you know I’m good for it.” She juts out a curvy hip and rests a hand on it. My eyes linger a little longer than normal, and I snort. Not sure if it’s at myself or at her.
