Page 16 of My Mountain Man Grump
He’s relaxed in his own place and moves around the cabin with an ease I haven’t seen on him before. Toys are strewn around the place, and it looks like it needs a vacuum. But otherwise the cabin is homey.
There’s a picture on the wall of the girls when they were little. Kyra’s a baby and Olivia is a tubby toddler wearing a wide grin. A woman with a matching grin holds her hand while cradling Kyra. I try not to stare at their mother, wondering what she was like and if Cole still loves her.
There’s a strange feeling in my chest and I rub it, wondering if I’ve got indigestion.
“That’s Mel.” I spin at the sound of Cole’s voice. He’s right behind me, so close I feel his hot breath on my neck. “The girls’ mother.”
“Oh.” I feel caught out, looking at the photo. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He hands me a dish cloth and picks one up himself. I take a plate from the drying rack and wipe it dry.
“She passed away four years ago.” I nod my head, not wanting to tell him I know all this because Joyce told me. Although she didn’t tell me how she died.
“Was it sudden?”
Cole shakes his head. “She had ovarian cancer.”
My heart goes out to him. I know what that’s like, to watch someone you love taken by cancer.
“I’m so sorry.” I’m reminded of nursing my mother through her cancer. How you watch someone you love, so vibrant reduced to a ball of pain, thin and pale and bedridden.
“I know what it’s like to nurse someone you love. It’s hard. I’m so sorry you went through that.”
He looks at me hard, and I get the feeling there’s more to the story. But he takes another dish from the rack.
“I lost my mother,” I tell him. “To cancer. My sister was studying abroad, and it was left to me to look after her.”
He frowns. “I’m sorry you experienced that.”
“I was only eighteen. It was scary and sad.” I shrug. “But it happened. There’s no changing the past.”
He nods. “That’s so young.”
I stack the dish I’m drying on the counter and grab the last one in the rack. “It’s why I became a nurse. Mom said I had a gift, and I like helping people.”
There’s a full moon tonight, and Cole glances out the window into the yard. The fire’s burning down, and the red glow of embers reaches us. “You want a hot chocolate before bed?”
Talk of Mom always makes me sad, and I don’t feel like being alone just yet. “Yeah,” I say. “That would be nice.”
Cole makes the hot chocolates using pure cocoa, I notice, not the sugar-filled formula that I have at home.
He pops in to say a quick goodnight to the girls, but Joyce has it under control, reading them a story.
We head out to the yard and sit on the upturned tree stumps around the fire. Stars sparkle in the vast black sky, and a chill breeze makes my arms pimple and a shiver go through me.
“You’re cold.” Before I can protest, Cole has his jacket off and he drapes it around my shoulders. It smells like him, woodsmoke and pine and his own distinctive masculine scent.
“Thank you.”
I take a sip of cocoa and wince at the bitterness. It really could do with a spoonful or two of sugar mixed in and thick cream on top. I carefully set the mug down in the grass next to me and wonder how I’ll get away with politely not drinking it.
We sit in silence, him looking into the dying embers and me looking up to the stars.
“Funny how they look almost the same as they do back home, but a little bit off.” Cole glances up to where I’m looking. “That’s the big dipper, but I think it’s in a different position than at home.”
He follows where I’m pointing. “Everything here is similar but different.”
Cole chuckles, and I turn to face him. He’s leaning over toward me and his eyes sparkle, caught in the light from the fire. My breath hitches. He really is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen and he’s staring at me with his eyes sparkling. “What?”
