She replaced the cushions back on the couch to bridge the gap between the mattress and the back of the piece of furniture, and she turned to get the pillows out of the top of the closet.After fluffing them appropriately, she stood back and surveyed her handiwork.
“He should be comfortable here,” she said, and she left the painting studio in favor of the kitchen. She had no idea how she’d be, sleeping under the same roof as him when she was whole and not hopped up on narcotics.
She busied herself in the kitchen, emptying her dishwasher and setting water to boil in her electric kettle. She stepped out onto the back porch and hurried to the lean-to to make sure she had gasoline for the generator.
She did, as she’d lived through many winters in places colder than Colorado, and she knew to be prepared.
She’d just ordered a cord of wood, and it had been delivered only a few days ago. She brought in several armloads, and then she stood in her living room, anxiety and impatience running through her in equal measure. “Where is he?” She pulled out her phone and checked the time.
Almost four o’clock.
She looked at Wiggins, who lay on the couch, curled into his typical ball. He only moved his eyes, and he’d lose his mind in a bark-fest if someone pulled up to the cabin. Therefore, Briar didn’t need to go check.
She walked around the couch and out the front door anyway, telling herself she was checking on the weather. Sure, she’d just been out here to get her last armful of wood, but she hadn’t specifically checked on the snowfall.
It wasn’t currently snowing, but the wind had picked up. Briar wrapped her arms around herself and watched her driveway, then the road leading back to the cabin. Tarr’s big black truck didn’t appear, and she turned back to the cabin with a small huff.
The sun would set soon, as in the winter, the daylight would be gone in the next hour. She grabbed her phone from whereshe’d left it on the kitchen counter and tapped out a quick text to Tarr as she went down the hall.
I’m going to jump in the shower real quick. Then you can have all the hot water you want later.
Now that she knew the RV didn’t have running water, she wondered what Tarr had been doing for showers.
“Probably stopping by Tuck’s.” She ducked into her bedroom and grabbed her robe, though she didn’t normally use it. But Tarr could show up at any moment, and she didn’t want to be caught having to duck across the hall in only a bath towel.
Just come in if you get here in the next fifteen minutes.Briar plugged in her phone and set it on her nightstand. Then she picked it up again.Oh, and an ETA would be nice. Just saying.
With that, she hurried into the bathroom and twisted on the water in the tub. Twenty minutes later, she stood in front of the mirror drying her hair when she heard Wiggins barking.
Her heartbeat leaped up into the back of her throat too, and when Wiggins stopped causing a racket, she figured Tarr had walked in the way she’d told him to.
“It’s me,” he called, and Briar heard him over the blow dryer.
“Okay,” she called back. “I’ll be right out.” She never could quite erase the curl in her hair, but sometimes she really tried. Tonight wasn’t going to be that night, though, and she stayed in the bathroom for a few more minutes before switching off the appliance and taking a deep breath.
She met her own eyes in the mirror, mentally told herself the truth for the day—You can do hard things—and went to meet Tarr in the kitchen.
She found him there, of course, holding open two cabinet doors as he looked inside. Irritation flashed through her, but she tamed it just as quickly. Still, she couldn’t stem the feeling completely that her private space was being invaded.
“What do you need?” she asked.
He glanced over to her. “I got you a big box of those chocolate-vanilla pudding cups, and they don’t all need to be in the fridge.”
Briar moved over to the Lazy Susan in the corner. “I usually put stuff like that in here.” She pushed on the door, and the turntable started to move.
He grinned at her and closed the cupboard, where she kept her coffee, tea, sugar, and other baking supplies. “I’ve got a few things too. Maybe they’ll fit in there?” He turned and took the single step over to the island she’d installed herself after moving in.
He picked up several little cups of microwaveable macaroni and cheese, Pasta-roni, and Rice-a-roni. A grin burst onto Briar’s face. “Your broccoli-cheddar rice? Yeah, I’m sure it’ll fit in there.”
“Are you making fun of my broccoli-cheddar rice?”
Briar lunged toward him as he lifted a tower of the cardboard cups and it started to tip. “No,” she said as she grabbed a couple of the top containers. “I’m making fun of this…parmesan pasta.”
“It’s delicious,” he said. “Ready in three minutes, and it goes great with chicken or steak.”
Briar already knew Tarr could cook, and he did put together quick meals morning, noon, or night. He’d never fed her out of the microwave though, and watching as he put his favorites in her corner cupboard made her grin grow.
She took in the other groceries, which he’d already unbagged, and reached for the eggs sitting on the counter. She filled the fridge with the things he’d brought, while Tarr found a spot for the pantry staples. He shoved all the bags into one, and when they finished, he faced her and held up the ball.
