“Shouldn’t River and I pay rent for the cabin?”
Lake frowned. “No, I don’t think so. It’s just sitting there, and nobody is using it anyway.”
“What he said. We have never charged rent for anyone staying here. It’s always been on a need basis, and I really think that you two can do whatever you want with the cabin at no cost.” Theo raised a brow at us. “I mean, you were talking about renovating something, right? If you want to do that, it’s more than enough for us.”
“What he said,” Lake deadpanned, then stuck out his tongue at us.
“Okay, then.” River smiled and squeezed my hand.
I’d thanked the guys for the bookshelves and the carrying already, a couple of times, so I didn’t say it again. Instead, I concentrated on Rey telling us how to play the game he’d chosen.
* * * *
Life fell into a very comfortable groove during September. Every day was filled with working our day jobs, and every evening we did something together, then slept wrapped in each other each night.
Sometimes, River would get a night call and then he’d slide out of bed, kiss me, and get dressed quietly. Eventually, he’d come home and go back to sleep. Hard as some of those night cases were, he seemed to thrive on being able to help these kids.
The new barn was going up quickly, and everyone was very excited about that. Lake and I had finished the manuscript and sent it on, then he’d gone and found Theo and…well, I guess they’d celebrated. In the exact way one would think, based on the way there’d been a hitch in Lake’s gait the next day.
Most mornings, River had a quick breakfast at our cabin and when I got up, I went to the house, because Cook liked to feed us. Besides, I liked sitting in the kitchen, waiting for everyone else to wake up and join me.
Somehow, Cook and I started to form a friendship. We chatted about anything from our jobs to our favorite places we’d been, to our families.
Neither of us had had a typical childhood, although in mine, the fuckery had started later. In his, well, he said he was from Alaska, and that he hadn’t grown up in the most stable of environments.
“That’s why I tend to run away whenever there’s snow on the ground here,” he murmured one morning as we sat eating breakfast together.
“Bad memories?” I made an educated guess.
“Yup, not the best for sure.” He sighed. “I don’t really know what to do this year, though.”
“Why? I think someone said you had another job lined up soon?”
He frowned and stabbed one of the pancakes on his plate with his fork. “Yeah, I do if I want it. I don’t know. I normally go in October or November and come back in late March. I just…”
I thought for a moment. “You don’t want to go because of Rey,” I said quietly.
He let out a resigned little chuckle under his breath. “No, I don’t. But a big part of me just wants to…I don’t know. Run away?” He turned his head, letting his long hair fall into a curtain that hid his face from me.
I hummed thoughtfully. “Well, if you end up running, you need to come back.”
“I know.”
“He’s…fragile. He’s stronger now and doing much better, but River says he’s a bit afraid of how fragile Rey can be,” I murmured, in case Rey came downstairs.
“I’ve seen that, too.” He pushed the hair back behind his ear almost angrily, then forced out, “I can’t be anyone’s savior.”
I reached over the table and touched his forearm. “Nobody can save anyone else; we can only be there to support them while they save themselves.”
For a moment, he made eye contact, a weird sort of vulnerable hope flickering in his gaze. Then his expression shuttered again, and he grinned, but it was weaker than his usual almost-smirk.
Whatever he was about to say got lost in the now-familiar sound of Rey coming down the stairs.
Chapter 17
River
I woke up to the specific ringtone I had for Dr. Cobb. I grabbed the phone and put it to my ear.
