Page 11 of Lumberjack DADDY
His place isn’t large. There’s only one bedroom that I can see from where I’m standing. It’s a lot like the cabin I’m staying in, with a table in a dining nook set off a galley-style kitchen. There’s a living room with a sofa, a coffee table, and a desk under the window on the far side of the room. There isn’t much in the way of decorations or personality, and yet, the plain and unassuming feel of the place somehow just seems to fit him to a T.
On a bookshelf that stands near the desk, I see a couple of framed photos, so I wander over and pick one of them up. It’s apicture of a younger Eli with some other men. They’re soldiers, and it was obviously taken in a faraway land.
“You were in the Army?”
He somehow slipped up behind me without me even hearing him move. It’s unsettling that a man as large as Eli can move so quietly. He plucks the frame from my hands, a stern expression on his face, and carefully replaces it in the exact same position on the bookshelf.
“Marines,” he says.
“Where was that picture taken?”
“Afghanistan.”
“Oh,” I say. “You were in combat?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m a curious girl.”
“Apparently,” he says. “Anyway, you can have my room. I’ll ride the couch.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t?—”
“You can have my room. I’ve got the couch.”
He says it with such finality, all I can do is nod in acceptance. “Thank you,” I say. “And thank you for… everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
The man is a brick wall.
He obviously doesn’t like talking about himself or his past, and there was a time when I would have let it go. When I would havefelt like I was prying and should just let it be. But it feels like a switch inside of me has been flipped. I’ve only been here a few days now, but I already feel like a completely different person. And this new person I am feels bolder. Feistier. I’m intrigued by Eli and want to know more about him.
I sit in one of the chairs at the small table in the dining nook. “So, you think you know who was out there?”
He nods. I wait for him to go on, but he doesn’t say anything more, making me laugh softly. A brick wall indeed.
“So? Who do you think it was?” I finally ask.
“Travis,” he says. “The kid from the market.”
I sit back in the chair and shake my head. It’s so obvious I should have thought of it myself. But I was so caught up in my fear, I wasn’t thinking straight and couldn’t see the obvious answers staring me in the face.
“Of course,” I say. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
“It’s not easy to think clearly when you’re scared,” he says. “But in the morning, I’ll go down to the market and have a word with him and his boss.”
“What can I do to thank you for helping me?”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“Seriously, I know you didn’t have to come help me, but you did. And I’m grateful?—”
“Really, don’t sweat it. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. Not in my cabin,” he says. “My liability insurance would have gone through the roof.”
I stare at him for a moment before I see the corners of his mouth flicker upward.
“Did you just make a joke?” I ask.
