A shiver rolls down my spine. “The what?”
He shakes his head. “Some investment company has been itching to buy it for a while, split it into blocks, build homes for people who don’t even live here and sell them for an actual fortune. The woman you inherited it from didn’t want that. But those are the people who’ll give you good money for it. Or they’ll take advantage of you.”
I cross my arms tightly, trying to keep from shuddering again. “Okay. But there are others who would take it?”
Caleb nods once, his icy eyes falling to me, though not in a way that makes me uncomfortable. “Definitely. Locals would snatch it up if given the chance, but they won’t offer you as much.”
Tiredly, I blow out a breath. “I know I need to be thinking about this,” I mutter, pushing away from the counter, “but it’s the last thing I want to deal with.”
Before I can make a move to walk away, Caleb catches my arm. His fingers fit almost perfectly around my wrist. The touch makes my skin pucker with another shiver, though not from fear or overwhelm.
Caleb smells like nature and rain. There’s something earthy about him that doesn’t scream dirty, but masculine. Not in amanly-manway, but more in aman-of-the-earthsort of way. There’s nothing overpowering about it, unlike the men who douse themselves in body spray.
“I’ll take the sofa tonight,” he says, voice low, eyes striking as they find mine. “You three take the bedroom.”
My heart leaps into my throat, pounding hard and painfully against my ribs. “We can’t?—”
“I don’t have an air mattress or anything that would support all three of you sleeping out here,” he murmurs. “Take the bedroom.”
I know he’s just being polite, but that doesn’t seem to compute with my heart, which flutters now. “Okay.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll assess whether you can leave or not. I might get you into town, but…”
“But we have nowhere to go,” I murmur. There’s no motel we can stay at.
Caleb shakes his head. “Anyone at the motel would have gone to the local inns. Those are probably filled by now, but if you want, Winnie might be able to call ahead. Ask around. If there are any rooms, she’d be able to find them.”
My stomach sinks with worry as I pull my eyes from his to look out the window at the dark sky, then towards the sofa where my kids sit quietly on their devices, making no sound.
“But you can stay here more than one night if you need to,” Caleb adds, voice low. “I’m not a complete monster.”
A shiver rolls through me as I look up at him. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes search my face for a moment, crinkling at the corners as if he’s trying to read me—or gather some kind of meaning from my apology.
I’m not sure he finds what he needs because he shakes his head again. “Don’t apologise,” he mutters. “You’re welcome here until the storm lets up.”
With that, he releases my arm and pushes away from the counter, striding towards the bedroom at the end of the hall. Once he’s gone, I finally loose a breath, heart calming immediately.
I really, really don’t know what to think of the mountain man now.
FIVE
CALEB
Sleeping on the sofa isn’t nearly as comfortable as I’d made it out to be, and it has me seriously considering whether I need to buy a new one. The lumpy cushions, as well as the fact that I’m much taller than the actual seat itself—and wider when lying on my back—has me tempted to put my blankets on the rug in front of the fire and sleep there. I’ve done worse. There are no mattresses out in the wild.
Eventually, I just give up and make sure the fridge and pantry are replenished for the days to come. The night hadn’t slowed down the storm at all. Instead, it continues to wage on like Mother Nature is angry and we need to be punished. Maybe we do. I’m not about to question the wrath of nature.
I manage to get the supplies before Cassidy makes her way out of the bedroom; the door closing softly behind her. She’s still in the tights and sweater from yesterday, though she has on a pair of thick wool socks now. Her hair is up in a messy bun at the top of her head, with dark circles under her eyes.
She looks as exhausted as I feel, and for some reason, that makes me want to fix it.
“You should go back to bed,” I say, barely looking at her. “Relax.”
Cassidy makes a sound in the back of her throat, shaking her head as she moves towards the kitchen. “No, no. I’m fine.” As if to call out her own lie, she yawns. “I’ll let them sleep. Unless you need to use the bathroom?”
The only bathroom is the ensuite to my bedroom—at least, that she’s aware of. There’s a second, albeit barely used, toilet in the basement. I’m pretty sure the old man who owned the cabin before me had a workshop down there whittling figurines or something, because I sometimes find them hidden in the walls when I’m down there.
