It’s almostnoon on Sunday when Micah and I reach Lilah and Deck’s small cabin. It’s nearly hidden in thick woods and feels remote and isolated, although in reality it’s only a few miles from Logan’s headquarters.
I like it immediately. They’ve obviously worked hard to fix it up and make it pleasant and cozy. There are handcrafted wooden chairs on the tiny porch and cheerful red-and-white curtains in the windows.
Like me, they’ve started a small garden recently. The ATV they always use is parked near the front door.
We leave the motorcycle beside it and head for the front door. Lilah comes out with a smile and one hand on the curve of her belly.
She steps down from the porch to hug Micah and then give me a wave in greeting.
I appreciate her sensitivity in not trying to hug me too.
“Come on in,” she tells us. “Deck is in there beating bread dough into submission.”
This comment startles me into a laugh.
“He’s baking bread now?” Micah asks.
“He got it into his head a few months ago and has been working on it ever since. The results haven’t yet been to his satisfaction.”
Her dry, fond tone makes her attitude toward her partner clear, but my warning bells clang anyway. “There’s beating involved in baking?”
“Well, there’s some sort of punching. Don’t ask me why.” She must see something on my face because she adds softly, “Deck is the kindest, gentlest man who ever lived. Ask anyone. You don’t need to worry about that.”
To my relief, she doesn’t sound offended. Just defensive on Deck’s account.
“Okay. Sorry. I worry about every man in that regard.”
“I get it. I used to be like that too. But people still occasionally surprise us in a good way.”
I think about that. Glance up at Micah, who has been listening and watching me. Then I nod. Maybe to Lilah, maybe to Micah—I’m not even sure.
Micah relaxes into a smile and puts a hand on my back. “She wouldn’t be my Kat if she weren’t immediately suspicious of everyone.”
I elbow him playfully in the side (not the side with the gunshot). “Hey, my suspicious nature has kept me safe this far.”
“Yes, it has.” He’s smiling down at me with something that feels like a kiss in his eyes.
Ridiculously, it makes me flush hot.
Lilah appears to be smiling to herself as she opens the front door of the cabin. But all she says is, “Well, I already knew you must have an iron will because there’s no other way to put up with Micah.”
We stayinside until Deck puts the bread in the oven, and then we go outside to hang out since it’s cooler out there. We chat about our backgrounds as Lilah and Deck grill up pork chops and vegetables. Then we eat on a table they have set up around the back of the cabin.
Everything is delicious, and after fifteen minutes, it’s clear that this couple is impossible not to like.
I’d like them anyway after seeing how much they clearly love Micah, but I also like them now for themselves.
I haven’t had any friends for years. Even before Impact, I never had a lot and none I’d consider truly close. But by the time we finish eating, it feels like maybe I actually have two new ones.
The topic of hunting shifts to marksmanship, which leads to Micah bragging about how well I shoot.
I try to shrug it off, but Lilah is clearly intrigued, andsomehow the conversation ends with a decision to run a shooting competition between the four of us.
No one anywhere would waste real bullets on target practice, but Deck has a high-quality air rifle that shoots pellets and is accurate at longer distances, so we use that.
It’s all in good fun. In fact, I’m probably the only genuinely competitive person among us. Plus my skill with guns has been purely practical, so I have none of my self-esteem wrapped up in my abilities.
I never even considered myself particularly good at shooting until Micah told me I was.
