I rushed over to stabilize him, then gathered the various bags. “Hold on to my arm while we walk out to the car,” I snapped, hopefully hiding my worry.
I expected a snarky comeback, but, miracle of all miracles, he complied. I made sure not to rush him, though I was surprised at how slowly he was walking.
“Don’t look so worried, Agnes. I landed on my guitar when I passed out, and now my hip is sore as hell. It’s fine, though.”
“They x-rayed it in Mexico and didn’t see anything concerning. We can get an MRI or a CT if you want,” I offered.
“Jesus, Agnes. I said it wasfine.”
I gripped the handle of my garment bag, refusing to take the bait. His hold on my arm was so weak I was tempted to pick him up and carry him. If I did that, though, he’d kill me in my sleep, so I tried to be satisfied with the fact that he was up and about.
After gingerly situating him in the passenger seat, I packed the trunk carefully to ensure that nothing got jostled during the drive. I texted Ozzie as I made my way around to the driver’s side.
Me:Hendrix wanted to go to the cabin, so I’m taking him there now.
Ozzie:Wow. Okay. There was no rush.
Me:I think he wanted to give you and Walker space.
Ozzie:Ah, man. He didn’t have to worry about that.
Ozzie:I’ll stop by tomorrow and check on him.
Me:Sounds good.
I got into the car and double-checked the instructions. Mr. Paige had inherited a property with three vacation rental cabins, and it had provided a good supplemental income for him and Ren. Ren had made sure Hendrix had access to the best one, and I was grateful.
Hendrix rested his head against the glass as I started the car, and he stayed quiet as I made my way through town. A few minutes later we turned in to the property’s festively marked driveway, and I pulled out my phone as I drove up to the gate. The code in Ren’s email was familiar, though I couldn’t remember from where. I punched in the digits, and the gate opened. Once we went through, it closed automatically behind us, and we were confronted by three paved drives with small wooden signs indicating the way to each cabin. I turned left toward cabin one, named Liebesnest.
“Quaint,” Hendrix noted as I pulled into the crushed granite circular drive.
Itwasquaint. The white clapboard bungalow had sharp, dark gray trim and shutters, a cheery red front door, and a small front porch. The lawn and window boxes were well maintained, and the building sat like a jewel among winding oaks and knobby cedar trees with the greenish-blue Guadalupe River quietly flowing behind it. The trees blocked out any indication of life beyond this lovely plot of land.
“Stay here,” I told Hendrix before going to the trunk to grab our bags. I made my way up the porch stairs and entered the same code to open the lockbox. After opening the front door and shoving our luggage inside, I hurried back to the car to help him out.
He smirked when I offered him my elbow, but he took it, still unsteady on his feet.
“Sit down,” I said once we were in the living room, which offered a comfortable camel-colored leather club chair and a matching couch with a colorful throw draped across the back. “I’ll put away our things.”
“Yes, Agnes,” he croaked.
The property’s simple, refined look was reflected in the interior as well. The pitched ceilings, pine floors, white walls, and massive windows gave the combined living room and kitchen a light, airy feel, and the fireplace would make the place cozy in the upcoming chilly months. As much as Hendrix was pushing back against our help, the tension in his body seemed to release, at least a little.
“I forgot how nice this place was,” he said, his rough voice trailing off.
I wondered why he hadn’t stayed longer the last time.
The short hallway in the back had two small rooms on one side, the door to the back porch on the other, and a generous bathroom at the end. I set our toiletries in the bathroom, then put his bag in the room closer to the bathroom and mine in the room closer to the living room. The bedrooms were essentially identical, each containing a queen bed with a low headboard to fit under the windows that looked out over the private land. Eachalso had a simple wooden bedside table and a tiny closet with an efficient storage system.
I laid his new socks and underwear on the shelves and hung up his T-shirts and jeans, then went to my room and unpacked, relieved that my suits had survived the trip without any creases.
I came across the compass Mr. Paige had given me, rolled carefully in a pair of socks. Figuring I’d be here for a while, I walked out to the living room and set the compass on the mantel, noting how perfectly it fit in with the rest of the elegant bric-a-brac.
After arranging our food in the refrigerator, I brought Hendrix a glass of water, a sliced apple, and a few slim wedges of brie. “Here. Eat this.”
“Jesus, Agnes. Give me a chance to catch my breath before you start nagging.”
“Shut it, Hendrix, and eat your food,” I snarled, aggravated by the state of his nails.
