Page 35 of Runaway
With her eyes closed, her face slack, she seemed younger, somehow. How old was she, anyway? I pegged her at 28. Her lips were slightly parted, her fingers curled beneath her left cheek, which she laid on. In the firelight, her highlights glimmered in different tones of blonde and brown. A lock of hair had fallen across her forehead and I had to stifle the urge to tuck it away.
My chest tightened.
The date with Shanti had been fun, but finding Stella asleep on my couch looking so peaceful was better. With a sigh, I answered some text messages from Mom, who had, of course, heard about Stella somehow—I blamed Lizbeth—and wanted all the details. Dad asked about a fishing trip. Camilo responded to my question about his painting career, which had crashed in a fiery plume of hatred when hecouldn't hack watercolor.I crossed him off my mental list of potential candidates and sighed. For a while, I'd forgotten about our project to get the cabin rented.
While I skimmed through my messages, answering all of them, the room filled with warmth again. Eventually, after I sent off a few more messages to people that I knew needed a mountain escape (even if they didn't realize it themselves), Stella stirred.
I kept my gaze on my phone and waited for her to see me first. She'd wake up any second now and—
“Oh!”
Her gasp brought her almost off the couch. She bolted up, hazy with sleep, an adorable red mark on her left cheek from where she’d rested it on her knuckles. The blanket fell off her shoulders, and I realized it wasn't a blanket, but one of my zippered sweatshirts.
Stella blinked several times.
“Mark?”
“Hey.”
“I'm . . .” She licked her lips as her eyes darted around, still a bit wild. They calmed as the pieces must have clicked back into place. “Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't . . . I mean . . .”
“Is everything okay?”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes, then collapsed back against the couch with a groan. “Yes, it's fine. I just . . . I . . .”
She mumbled something I couldn't make out.
“You what?”
She sighed almost violently. “I got scared.”
The back of my neck prickled. “Scared?” I asked quietly.
“Joshua emailed me.” She covered her face with her hands. “But even before that, I was freaked out. It sounds so silly now but sitting out there alone in that cabin was . . . I don't know. Scary. I'm not used to the mountains and surely not by myself. It's such a small cabin that you can hear every single sound outside.”
Understanding flooded me then.
“The mountain lion?”
She nodded, still hidden under her fingers.
“I don't blame you,” I said. “That cat is a bit too bold. I'd be nervous too.”
She peered at me from between split fingers. “You're just saying that.”
I shook my head. “No. I'd be freaked out too if I didn't grow up here and live here full time. You get used to it after a while, but it's scary at first. A healthy respect isn't a bad thing.”
Seeming relieved, she dropped her hands from her face. “I guess I felt safer in here. Sorry I sort of went all Goldilocks on you.”
That drew a laugh out of me. How perfect—she was goldilocks. “Nah, not a big deal. I'm glad you came. You're definitely safe from the kitty in your cabin, but I can see how it wouldn't feel that way. There's a lot less noise in here.”
She blinked away the last of sleep. Her eyes focused a bit more, but still drooped as she fought off a yawn.
“What did Joshua say?”
An instant scowl marred her face. “Just . . . a stupid email. The feds must be processing something because all the claims I put through were rejected. I think it's made him suspicious. I don't want to talk about him. How was your date?” she asked sleepily.
I shrugged. “Good. I mean . . . fun. I'll never see her again but it was worth the drive and the time.”
