"Follow me," he said finally.
He turned, and to his left was a door she hadn't noticed. He opened it to reveal a small bedroom with a window facing the trees. A few cardboard boxes were stacked against one wall, the only sign that someone had recently moved in.
"This is your room. I'll put some pants on and take these boxes out of your way."
He left her standing in the doorway as he sauntered down the hall to what she assumed was the living room, then turned right toward another door. His bedroom, probably. She watched him go, unable to stop her eyes from tracking the movement of his shoulders, the way the towel rode low on his hips with every step.
The door closed behind him, and she was alone.
She stepped into the spare room and set her suitcase on the floor. The bed was neatly made with a simple quilt in shades of blue and gray. A small nightstand held a lamp with a pull chain. The window looked out onto the trees she had driven through, their branches dark against the fading sky.
It wasn't what she had planned. It wasn't the peaceful solitude she had driven four and a half hours to find.
But it was a bed. And right now, that was enough.
She sat on the edge of the mattress and let herself breathe. The tears she'd been fighting finally spilled over, quiet and steady, running down her cheeks and dripping onto her hands. She was so tired of being strong. So tired of holding everything together. So tired of being the one who fixed things for everyone else while her own life fell apart.
A knock at the door made her jump.
She wiped her face quickly and stood. When she opened the door, Brian was there in gray sweatpants and a navy T-shirt that stretched across his chest. He looked almost normal now, if normal meant impossibly large and still vaguely irritated.
His eyes dropped to her face, and something flickered there. Not pity exactly. Something else.
"No sense in crying about it," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "We'll get it sorted."
"I'm sure we will." She managed a weak smile. "It's just been an exhausting day."
He nodded, then looked past her at the boxes. "I'll get those out of your way so you have more room."
She turned to look at them, too, her short blonde curls falling into her face. She pushed them back with fingers that still trembled slightly. She probably looked as exhausted as she felt, with dark circles under her eyes and tension in every line of her body.
She stepped aside, and he moved past her into the room. He smelled like soap and cedar, and she told herself she didn't notice.
He picked up the first box like it weighed nothing and hauled it down the hall to a closet near the back door. He repeated this for the other three boxes without a word, his movements efficient and practiced.
When he finished, he paused in the doorway. "I was going to go outside and build a fire and have a beer. Did you want to join me?"
The invitation surprised her. "No, that's okay..." She hesitated, then heard herself say, "Yes."
He waited.
She shrugged, feeling foolish. "I know you're put out. If I won't disturb your peace, I'd love to sit by the fire. And a drink sounds like a little bit of heaven."
Something shifted in his expression. Not quite a smile, but the hard edges softened slightly.
"You got it. The mosquitoes come out around seven, which is in about fifteen minutes, so put something on to cover your arms and legs. The door to the back is straight through the living room and out the patio door."
"Thank you."
He detected the break in her voice; she saw it in the way he looked away quickly. Then he disappeared out the door before she could say anything else.
Tessa opened her suitcase and pulled out her favorite flannel shirt, the one that had belonged to her father. The fabric was soft from years of washing, the red and black plaid faded to something gentler. She slipped it on over her T-shirt and let the familiar weight settle on her shoulders.
When she stepped outside, Brian was crouched by a fire ring near the water's edge, stacking wood with the care of someone who took simple things seriously. The sun had fully set now, leaving the sky streaked with purple and the water dark beneath it. The copper glow had faded, but she could still see traces of it on the horizon, like the memory of something beautiful.
He glanced up and took in her outfit. A small sound escaped him, almost a laugh.
"Looks like you came prepared."
