‘Good,’ he said, crossing his legs at the ankles and still looking oddly pleased. ‘Well, it can’t be because you don’t like me.’
‘Can’t it?’
He frowned as though I’d said something incomprehensible that needed serious consideration. ‘Nah. It’sdefinitelynot that.’
‘You’re very cocky for someone who’s just been turned down, aren’t you?’
‘Interesting choice of words, considering the cake you made,’ he quipped.
Even though I had absolutely no intention of going on a date with a total stranger, albeit a very amusing and good-looking one who had kind of rescued me, I was honest enough to admit that I was enjoying our flirtation.
‘I just don’t date,’ I told him. Unbidden, a snapshot image of Josh’s face flashed across my thoughts like lightning in a storm.
‘Not ever?’ Adam asked, his curiosity clearly piqued. ‘Well, that’s just all kinds of wrong.’ For a moment the teasing banter fell from his face. ‘Bad break-up?’ he guessed.
I bit my lip. Can something be called broken when it perhaps only ever existed in your imagination? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t about to explain my complicated feelings about Josh to my roadside Good Samaritan.
‘I just got off that bus and I’m not ready for another trip yet.’
Adam nodded slowly, but there was still the trace of a smile on his lips. ‘I think the most important word in that sentence is “yet”.’
I laughed and shook my head.
‘I’m not giving up on you, Jessie,’ Adam said with a wink.
‘Youdoremember my name is Lily, don’t you?’
‘Of course. The only thing better than my memory is my patience. I can wait until you’re ready.’
And he did.
Chapter Thirteen
I woke up confused, the way you do on the first morning of a holiday, when you can’t work out why the door and the window are in the wrong place, or who moved all the furniture overnight. Something that certainly wasn’t where it ought to be was my dog. There was no familiar reassuring weight across my feet, and I couldn’t hear the snuffling grunt of canine snoring. I wasn’t used to waking up to silence and it jolted me alert.
‘Fletcher,’ I called, scanning the room for my travelling companion. I hadn’t been able to properly assess Josh’s bedroom by lantern light, but in the dappled grey of early morning my suspicions that this was a room built for function rather than style were confirmed. There was a dresser and a wardrobe, both of which I recognised from the Wildwood website, and a solitary bedside cabinet. The absence of a matching one on the other side of the divan struck me as sad, as though it was already decided that another would never be needed. The room held nothing that didn’t have a purpose or belong there. Except me, of course, I thought with a wry twist of my lips as I swung my legs out of bed.
Fletcher’s absence was explained when I noticed the bedroom door was ajar. I’d fumbled with the unfamiliar latch on my return from a middle-of-the-night bathroom visit, so I guessed I hadn’t fastened it properly.
Unwilling for another pyjama-clad encounter with Josh, I pulled on jeans and a jumper before padding into the hallway. I threw a cautious glance towards the lounge, where he’d slept. The room was still in darkness, and even though I was shoeless I still tiptoed past the doorway. I wasn’t ready to face my reluctant host without a cup of coffee inside me first.
I was sure I’d find Fletcher in the kitchen, curled up beside the wood burner, but to my surprise the room was empty. My nose twitched as it picked up the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and I followed the scent to the stove, where an old-fashioned enamel pot – the kind cowboys use out on the prairie – was sitting.
It was hard to imagine Josh as an early riser when I so clearly remembered the teenage version who would have happily slept until noon each day. It was another reminder of the differences between the boy I’d known and the man he’d become. And yet memories from decades ago persisted on pinging into my head, as though someone had blown the doors off the vault where they’d been kept.
I turned towards the table where a clean mug had been placed. Propped against it was a note in handwriting that was still so familiar.
I have your dog.
I stared at the four-word missive, wondering if Josh had intentionally phrased it to sound like a ransom note (which was funny), or whether its brevity was an indication of just how little he had to say to me.
Fletcher’s lead was missing from where I’d left it hanging over the back of a chair, and I toyed with the idea of following their tracks in the snow and reclaiming my dog (because wasn’t that what Adam would want me to do?), but a quick glance out thewindow forced me to abandon that plan. The snow was still falling steadily, and the few tracks that were visible among the drifts were disappearing fast. It was probably more sensible to stay in the cabin and wait.
I tried to swallow the feeling of irritation, but I could taste it through the minty tang of toothpaste as I cleaned my teeth, and it was there in my reflection as I splashed ice-cold water – which was all the taps were prepared to yield – on my face. Everything was spinning out of my control, and the composure I needed to deal with Josh seemed to be forever beyond my reach.
Even though I knew it was pointless, I still tried every light switch in the cabin as I went from room to room attempting to capture a glimmer of phone signal. Although, even if by some miracle I found any, my battery was almost on the point of giving up. I blinked back tears of pure frustration. I hated this stupid forest for being so remote, and I hated the man who’d chosen to live here, but most of all I hated myself for ever thinking he’d be willing to help me. The only person Ididn’thate in all of this was Adam. Him, I could never hate.
It was a full forty minutes later before a bark I recognised cut through the silence of the clearing. I crossed to the window and saw something that took me by surprise. Josh was laughing, his face split by an enormous carefree grin. The bestI’dglimpsed on it so far was a glimmer of a smile, but out there, for only my dog to see, was the same face my foolish teenage heart had fallen in love with. I hurriedly stepped back from the window, shocked to see it again. It felt unnatural, like coming across your own ghost.
