I hadn’t lost time since I stopped being able to sleep. But I was sleeping nowadays. Those carnal as hell dreams proved that. Even though they felt real, like it was happening.
“Yeah, Aura,” I wheezed, feet still flying along the road, “they’re real, sure. The handyman is a vampire and he sucked blood from your femoral artery while eating you out. Yeah. That makes complete sense.”
The toe of my running shoe hit a rock embedded in the road, and I went flying, a surprisingly graceful arc that ended with me landing in an ungainly heap in the ferns. My phone flew from my sweaty hand and I stared up at the night sky, the breath knocked out of me.
“Okay, you j- just…” painfully sitting up, I brushed the dirt and pebbles off my hands. “Take stock. Everything okay? Legs… arms...” I sniffled, angry at myself for crying.
What a mess you are,my mother’s voice whispered.
“I’m not a mess!” I snapped back.
“Why do you keep ending up here?”
This time, I didn’t scream when the giant shadow of lumberjack handyman Steve separated from the dark trees and strode over to me. I was too busy crying, angry crying, sad crying, am I crazy crying.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, Handyman Steve, I’m in great shape,” I snapped, angrily swiping at my wet eyes. Anger. Anger was good. “I just tripped on something in the road.”
He was standing, well, more like looming over me, his hands on his hips and looking down at me, head tilted. “You’re hurt. Come on.” His hugely muscled arms slid under me and lifted me effortlessly, already turning and heading to his cabin before I registered what was happening.
“Wait! My phone, I dropped it. I need it, Steve- I always have to-”
Nudging his front door open, he interrupted me. “I’ll get it. Let me clean you up first.”
Looking down, I could see that there was a long scrape along my calf and my knee was bleeding. Steve felt me stiffen into concrete and a small smile curled one corner of his mouth. Setting me down gently on a big leather sofa - so big that I felt a bit like a child sitting there because I couldn’t lean back and still have my feet touch the floor - he knelt in front of me, lifting the wounded leg.
“This isn’t bad,” he announced. He was back in a moment with a small first aid kit. Blowing the dust off the lid and making me cough a bit, Steve set about cleaning the blood off my knee. I could see his nostrils flare slightly, but his expression stayed neutral.
“I wasn’t lost,” I said defensively. “I just … lost track of time so I was even using the pin you’d dropped on my GPS and it got dark sooner than I’d expected, that’s all.”
His broad shoulders shook in a silent chuckle. “Your cabin is that way.” He pointed over his back in the opposite direction of his house. I was about to snap at him when Steve did a strange - at least for him - thing. He leaned in and blew gently on the scrape, drying the antiseptic, and placed the bandage over it. Looking up at me, his vivid gaze was kinder than I’d seen before. "Sit here and catch your breath. I’ll go find your phone.”
Looking around at the silent room after he left, I was a little surprised. Most handymen surely didn’t live this well. The sofa and the rest of the oversized leather furniture were a weathered camel color, with an exquisite Persian carpet, colors muted slightly by age but in perfect condition. The stacked stone fireplace took up a third of one wall. When I squinted, I could see there were dozens of black flint squares between the rock. Fossils. They were all fossils from extinct sea creatures.
There was a custom-made series of bookcases took up the only wall without windows. Hundreds of books. Maybe thousands. The little I could see into the kitchen showed expensive appliances - a stainless steel fridge, and a beautiful Viking stove that looked brand-new. “Huh…” I chewed my lip thoughtfully, “maybe I should learn how to handle power tools in case I can’t write again.”
“I’m not sure home repair is a strong career choice for you.”
I jumped and gave a little yelp. Steve was standing over me- how the hell did that man move so silently? “Is it a point of pride for lumberjack-handymen to move without a sound? It’s like you’re sneaking up on a deer every time I see you.”
“Maybe you should be more alert,” he said sourly, handing over my phone. “Bad news, I don’t know if you landed on it but you’re going to need a new one.”
My alarmed gaze rose to his. “I have to have a phone!” Yes, I was being a little dramatic but my phone was my lifeline, “How did it break? I didn’t land that hard and it’s in a case!” My silver phone was a lost cause, a jagged crack running up the glass and what my AT&T guy called “the blue screen of death.”
Steve shrugged. “I don’t know, but if you can afford that cabin of yours, you can afford a new phone. Don’t worry, we get deliveries up here.”
“Yeah, okay…” I was cautiously getting up, flexing my leg. “Well, my knee feels much better. Thank you and I’m sorry I ended up in your front yard again.”
One dark brow rose and he said the oddest thing. “Something’s calling you here.” We stared at each other for another moment and then I stepped back.
“I’m just … going to leave now. Thanks again.”
He sighed the sigh of a man long put-upon. “Get in the truck.”
That night I was focused. Mostly. I ordered a new phone online, pointedly getting one with a fancier GPS feature. It won’t arrive for another two days. I groaned. Two days. That was a lifetime for me. I checked on my refill orders with my Seattle pharmacy, they’d be re-routed here, too. I sent an email to James' assistant, inquiring whether she'd found the handyman or did he work for the resort. I didn't believe Rich Guy Kevin, but why would he lie? I didn’t need groceries. I clicked on Amazon, scrolling through some of my competitor’s latest books, absently checking their sales count. Then there was nothing left to do but….
“Crap,” I sighed, “it’s either work on the book or write that Walden Pond homework assignment for James, which is so stupid. Thanks, Professor Barnes.” The image of my expensively suited agent writing on a blackboard, wearing a tweed jacket with patches on the arms was suddenly hilarious and I giggled. It’s not like I’d laughed much recently and it felt good. “Okay, so we write.”
