Page 56 of Lethal Threat
Her expression is sad as she stands. “I’m fine. You guys enjoy visiting. Nice to meet you, Marshall.”
He rises as she prepares to leave. “Feel better soon.”
“Thanks. I’ll try.”
But the sight of her hunched shoulders as she walks away is what clenches my chest like a fist.
I’m putting an end to this pain for her. Come hell or high water. It’s done.
“We’re finding who did this,” I vow.
Marshall returns to his seat, drinks his cocoa. Mine is cold, but I down it because I don’t want Sierra to think I didn’t like it. After he’s done, he asks, “What can I do to help you?”
“I’ll ask when we get outside.”
Chapter Twenty
SIERRA
A truck engine starts outside. I fight the urge to peek through the curtain.
It has to be Marshall leaving. A knot twists in my stomach. Maybe Cole left too.
No, he wouldn’t do that.
Not after his protests about leaving me alone while he works. He must be blowing off steam outside in the workshop.
What could he be doing out there?
I snuggle under the throw-blanket on the couch and wait. The living room starts to grow cool. The fire needs attention. Finally, I pry myself off the couch and walk on legs that have pins and needles to the hearth.
It’s been a while—maybe a few hours—since Cole left because all the logs I’d placed earlier have burned down.
My stomach growls as I kneel on the stone to move the log. Breakfast is long gone from my belly. I should eat.
When I reach for a log, my knees ache. I really do havebruises everywhere. Some are feeling better, some I’m getting used to now.
Once I add a few more logs and shuffle the coals around, I stand up to admire my work.Not bad.
Not sure how I got the knowledge needed to build a fire, but that particular question has low priority on the long list of unanswered questions.
When a second growl comes from behind my belly-button, I head for the kitchen.
The light is getting low outside as an early winter evening creeps in. It takes a minute to find the right switch for the lights over the sink. I stop to admire the pendant lamps. Hand blown glass? Maybe they’re from Italy too.
I should ask Cole. If he ever comes back. With a sigh, I turn and study the kitchen more carefully. It’s a lovely space. Plenty of room for people to cook together and hang out. The room is full of gorgeous appliances, lots of open counter space for prep, and is enhanced by a very handsome fridge.
I grin and laugh.Handsome.
Just like it’s owner. It’s tall and broad with strong looking doors. I swivel and walk around the kitchen exploring the cabinets I didn’t look in earlier. Something to eat will catch my eye, that’s how I’ll decide.
There’s a loaf of bread on the counter. The fridge is stocked with plenty of supplies for sandwiches. That I discovered earlier.
The cabinet next to the sink has a selection of pre-made soups in cans and cartons. But what fascinates me is the freezer. It’s stocked completely full with labeled containers.
“My mother did that,” Cole says, making me leap and scream.
Holy crap!
