Page 55 of Agent Zero
THIRTY-THREE
His memory was still good;he stayed on the road more by feel than anything else.The place was defensible and the track up to it a bit dicey, but the sedan gave it a good shot.At least they didn’t have to hike in—after the freeze hit, he didn’t want to be trekking back and forth carrying supplies.
They bounced to a stop just as the chain on the front left tire gave up and flung itself free with a metallic squeal that made Holly start, and the sudden jolt of fear through her glands was enough to make his stomach turn over.Being so close for so long made him sensitive to every small change in her.
So he tried to sound reassuring.“It’s all right.Just a chain.Doesn’t feel like it popped the tire.Stay here.”
“Is that the cabin?”Did she sound disappointed?What had she expected?
It was small, with a steeply pitched roof under a cap of heavy wet snow that was going to freeze solid soon.The dark windows were empty holes.All glass intact, though, that was good.A shack of a shed would be leaning against the north side, ready to hide the car if he could get it back there.The pumphouse tucked in a sheltered angle was also hidden, and the cabin was longer than it looked, but still.There was a whole lot for her to be disappointed about, starting with Reese and the mess he’d made of her beautiful apartment, her quiet little life.
Doesn’t matter.It’s safe, at least until the thaw hits.“It doesn’t look like much.”His shoulders were tight, his neck aching from the tension.Driving in this mess was not his idea of a good time.“Once the fire gets going it’ll be fine.Better than a tent.”
“It looks like a fairy tale.”She reached for the doorhandle.“I’ll help with the groc?—”
His fingers closed around her wrist.Gently, but she froze.The engine was still humming right along, blowing warm air into the car’s tiny bubble of civilization.No need for her to get cold yet.
“You’ll stay right here.”Very quietly, each word distinct.“Just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
“Just stay here, Holly.Okay?”He almost saidtrust meor even the crowning absurdity,humor me.
“Fine.”She stared at the cabin as if it would turn into a billboard any moment, giving her a set of directions.“I should help you, though.”
“You will.”Stay where it’s warm for right now, sweetheart.He couldn’t say that, though.
It was entirely too...intimate.
The trees uphill broke the force of the wind, and the snow wasn’t too bad here—yet.He could taste the iron tang of more storm on the way, and the dark cloud-streaks of freezing rain would spread as the system curled against the mountains.This hollow was pretty sheltered, and the fast-falling snow would drift up over tire tracks.If a layer of ice accumulated, all the better.
He shut the car door gently, pulling his gloves on as he crunched along the cabin’s flank.Balsam and pine, a rill of cold dampness from the creek to the west, the grit of stone close to the surface.Deer, an oily dry scent, very fresh.Other animals, including a thread of acrid weasel musk he almost wrinkled his nose at.No hint of humans, except the exhaust from the idling car.
That was partly why he wanted her closed up, so he could get a good lungful of all this without her distracting, maddening, wonderful proximity.
The shed was still in good shape, if a bit cobwebbed, and the hulking shape in the corner, covered with canvas, was another insurance—if mice hadn’t been at the wires.He’d check that out later.For right now, the chain had just torn, and there was another set on a listing wooden shelf.“Nice,” he congratulated himself, even though there wasn’t enough wood.He could fix that easily.
As soon as he stepped out, kicking the wedge firmly under the shed door, he knew Holly hadn’t listened.Clumping back around the side of the cabin was enough time for him to take a deep breath, that thread of her on the cold air like champagne.
He was opening his mouth to say something a little sharper than might be really necessary when she came into view.
She’d stepped away from the car, tipping her head back.A new knitted cap, the fur-collared parka, the new boots and her gloves tugged on, she stood in the snow, staring at the sky.Her mouth was open and her little pink tongue out, catching snowflakes.
Just like a kid.
The cold blushed her cheeks, visible even in the failing light, and her charcoal lashes blinked rapidly, gemmed with melting snow.Her hands turned out, cupped to gather more of the falling flakes, and Reese’s heart gave a sudden, violent, painful lunge inside his chest.
God, please...He didn’t even know how to finish the thought.
She might have heard him crunching along, snow drier now that the temperature had started to drop, because she laughed, a low pretty sound, and brought her chin back down.Biting her lower lip now, a little shyly, then the smile broke out over her face like sunrise.It was the first wholly unguarded grin he’d seen from her, and it walloped the air right out of him.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, hushed in this cathedral of trees and ice.“I love snow.”
“Yeah.”He sounded hoarse, and sharp.What could he say?Nothing he was thinking.
I will do anything for you, just don’t go anywhere.Just don’t leave.Stand there and smile at me, and I’ll do anything you want.It wasn’t precisely pain.Was this what cardiac arrest felt like?Just let me stay close.Just please, please don’t go anywhere.
It was coming down faster, gathering on her shoulders and her cap.He had to get her inside.He cleared his throat, and her smile faded, bit by bit.“Let me get the key.I have to dig it up.You can go in—it’s pretty bare, but it’s shelter.There’s water, and...I, uh...”
