My arm burned, then ached, and I rubbed at the scars while my mind took a nosedive into my past.
An ember popped and shot from the fireplace, where it danced in front of my eyes an instant before burning out.
My chest locked.
Fuck.
I had to get over this before people started showing up for the hot meal Rafe had promised.
The assholes who’d confronted us earlier might hate us, but they didn’t have a bat’s chance in hell of keeping people from accepting the food we offered.
A shadow flickered across the wall beside the fireplace.
I stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath despite the pain in my chest.
Distraction.Now.
I dug into my pockets and retrieved the small whittling knife and the block of wood I’d been working on.
With a quick glance over my shoulder, I fished the magnification glasses out of my vest and propped them on the arm of the chair.
I didn’t need them yet, but I would once I reached the part of the carving where I worked on intricate details.
Rafe gave me a side-eye glance when he paced past me but didn’t comment.
He knew the demons that hounded my brain.
I clicked open the knife and used the sharp point to drill a hole into the spot where I planned on threading string through the top.
My mind had no choice but to focus as I carved.
One wrong move and I’d ruin the whole thing.
With Christmas just around the corner, there was no time to waste.
I propped my thumb along the bottom of the block of wood that would eventually be a tiny train and scraped the sharp edge of the knife along the edge.
Thescratch, scratchof metal on wood calmed me.
Something about being in control and knowing the outcome of my efforts kept the demons at bay.
“What’s that?” Noelle stood beside me, her voice soft as a lullaby.
She bent at the waist, scooping her hair to the far side of her neck to gain a better view.
Her eyes glittered in the firelight that painted her skin a dusky hue.
I clasped the block of wood tight in my fist. “Nothing yet.” It took effort to force my fingers open and hold up the half-worked train.
Noelle reached out, then stopped, her fingers inches from mine. “May I?”
I made a motion with my head that indicated I didn’t mind, and she plucked the wood from my palm. “It’s going to be a train.”
“I can tell.” She ran her thumb along the edge where I’d been shaping a wheel. “This is incredible, Bishop.”
She sounded shocked and awed.
I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
