Traps are empty again tonight. No coyotes to keep me company. Just a hoot owl warning from a distant perch somewhere.
The night presses in, heavy and intimate. Like I’m the only person who still exists. I could almost convince myself of that out here. But not when my mind keeps wandering back to chestnut curls and pink-fingers covered in marshmallows.
That wakes up parts of me better left alone.
Because that woman deserves the world. That’s obvious. Not the man whose existence threatens the narrative she needs to believe.
I stay out longer than I should, well past sunrise. I have to pull myself together. Figure this out. Mind brainstorming how to make her go, heart deciding means to keep her. Neither leaves her a choice.
But sometimes, you have to convince yourself you’re in control of something… just to stay sane.
I know I’ve failed when I find myself at the creek, washing my hair and beard and then shaving in the still reflection of the water. There’s no excuse for it, bar of soap in hand—sandalwood and oiled leather—and a razor and scissors making me presentable.
Or at least close.
I enter the cabin with my head down. Brown sugar and maple hit, warm and inviting.
I can’t register the look I know is coming. The one that lets me know she’s noticed the change.
Her eyes are on me. I ignore her.
“Coffee’s already started,” she says, voice still groggy from sleep. “And I hope you like pancakes.”
My eyes meet hers. “That’s what that smell is? Yes. Good.”
“You shaved.”
I freeze. Then nod, trying to play it off.
“Sleep okay last night?” I ask, side-eyeing her.
“Not exactly,” she answers.
I frown. “Cabin didn’t stay warm enough?”
“It was fine.”
“Did I wake you?” I ask.
“Not that either, though I heard you go.”
I grimace.
She raises an eyebrow.
“PTSD,” I say before I can stop myself. “Don’t know how loud I get. But it used to be a problem. Didn’t want to do that to you.”
All the blood drains from her face. “What happened to you over there?”
It comes out soft, sympathetic.
My jaw tightens, teeth grinding. “Nothing,” I grunt. “Need anything else?”
She looks around the room. Then, shakes her head. “Just a status on my Jeep, I guess.”
She wants to go. Of course, she does. Not even curiosity about Phoenix can make her stay.
It’s what I want, too.
