“And I’m in the way. I’m sorry.”
She was sorry? Fuck. “No, Summer. I don’t like...” I pinched the bridge of my nose. The throb in my leg dulled, concentrating around my knee. “...people,” I finished, lamely, realizing too late she’d think I meant her.
There was a moment of silence. Had I offended her? How could I have not?
“Do you have internet out here?” she asked.
I wasn’t prepared for the subject change, but I grabbed on to it. “Haven’t you tried your phone?”
“Battery’s dead. I left the charger at the church.” She leaned against the counter while I started opening the package of bacon. “Hopefully, one of my sisters found it.”
“I have Wi-Fi.” For a small rural town, Bourbon Canyon and the surrounding area got good coverage. “I don’t stream much of anything. See if your phone works with my charger.”
“Where is it?”
Shit. Her scent was bad enough in my living room, kitchen, and probably in my bathroom. I couldn’t have strawberry sunshine invading my bedroom. “I’ll grab it. Start the bacon?”
She nodded and glanced away. “I don’t mean to be trouble.”
“Since when do you care if you stir up some trouble?” My question wasn’t teasing.
A furrow formed between her brows. “Being a bother and stirring up trouble is different.”
“Mom told me once it’s okay to be a bother sometimes.”
She arched a reddish-blond brow. “Did you listen to her?”
I limped past her. She’d know the answer.
Summer
Jonah’s charger didn’t work for my phone. He left me with his phone and went outside. I had heard the telltale scrapes of metal on concrete, but when I went outside to see if he could use help shoveling snow, he’d growled at me to get inside. I wasn’t dressed for shoveling.
He was right. I was dressed for a Bali honeymoon. Instead of being across the ocean in a private villa, I wasn’t far from home in a mountain cabin.
And I was glad.
The constant stomach pain from worrying about the flight was gone. The anxiety smoldering in my gut? Vanished. I could finally be hungry again, and after the generous portion of crispy bacon and scrambled eggs Jonah had fed me, I was ready to eat again. Months of nibbling here and there, worried I was going to end up becoming one giant ulcer before I stepped on the plane, was over with one slap. I was ravenous.
I got up from my movie marathon and went to the kitchen.
He’d left his phone on the table so I could call who I needed, and I hadn’t touched the thing. Last night, before my phone had died, I’d sent them all messages thanking them for dealing with the fallout and alsoletting them know I needed some time, and when I knew more about the roads, I’d update them.
I wasn’t due back to work for over three weeks. I couldn’t very well stay at Jonah’s for that long. Could I?
No. I couldn’t.
The way he’d barked at me this morning should’ve sent me running, but I’d recognized the outburst for what it was. Sick of someone hovering. Sick of being checked on and people thinking you weren’t strong enough to handle the basics. My memories of those feelings were old, but I knew them well.
His cupboards were full of canned goods—beans, stews, soups. His fridge was a repository of processed meat and his freezer was stocked with beef and some pork and chicken. I found canned vegetables that’d go well with a roast. Did he have plans for supper or was he going to dive into one of the many packs of bacon again?
Fuck it. I was throwing something in the oven for supper. When I was looking for a roasting pan, I found a small door around the corner, opposite the one that led to the garage. A storage space under the stairs with onions, potatoes, garlic, and squash.
Produce that wasn’t brined. Perfect.
I set about cleaning and cutting potatoes. They’d been pulled from the ground and stored. I couldn’t see Jonah crawling through the dirt with his leg, but his mom used to have an impressive garden. She must’ve kept it going. Without her, Jonah might not touch a veggie.
My gaze kept straying to the phone. I should call Mama. Her number had been the same since I’d first memorized it as a kid. I might be able to recall my sisters’ numbers, but Mama should hear from me.
