Page 6 of Soul of the Mountain
I tilt my head and furrow my brow. I don’t get it. Why would he care about my safety one way or the other? I nod as he pulls away from the curb. I can’t help but feel the tiniest twinge ofloss deep in my bones at the thought of never seeing him again. That’s how I know it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge.
3
SULLIVAN
Sweat drips down my forehead, and I wipe it away before it can sting my eyes. I’ve been out here chopping wood for the last hour, and thankfully, I only have one more log to split. It’s hard work, but right now it’s a great distraction from the curvy real estate agent I’ll probably never see again.
Who am I kidding? Gabby hasn’t left my thoughts for more than five minutes since I dropped her off at Grady’s this morning. As much as I don’t want to like her, I find the woman… intriguing. Bits of our conversation have been floating around in my head all day.
I don’t need anything from anyone.That’s at the core of what she projects to the world with her cold demeanor. Someone close to her broke her trust, and she hasn’t allowed herself to depend on anyone since.
My heart damn near cracked in two when Deirdra gave Gabby one of her famous hugs, second only to my gran. I thought Gabby was going to wiggle her way out of it. Instead, she nearly collapsed into the older woman’s arms. I felt the weight of whatever still haunts her. I saw the moment Gabby surrendered to someone else’s kindness, and it made me want to be the person who provides that for her.
Not that any of that matters now. Gabby is gone, likely arriving in Denver in the next hour or so. She’ll be back in the big city, where she can order fancy coffee and use her own hairdryer. I’ll be here, looking after the inn and keeping up my side business of building websites. I don’t have much to offer someone like Gabby, but like I said, it’s a moot point.
I swing the axe down one last time, grunting as my muscles strain with the effort. Tossing the axe aside, I gather the firewood into smaller bundles to carry inside.
When the last of the wood is stacked next to the fireplace in the main lobby, I finish up a few admin tasks at the front desk. Something outside the window catches my attention, and I furrow my brow when I see Grady’s van pull up to the inn.
A second later, Gabby hops out of the passenger side with her duffel bag and purse in tow. Grady says something to her through his rolled-down window, and she nods in acknowledgment. The van pulls away, leaving the curvy woman I promised myself I would stop thinking about standing in the front yard of Willow Tree Inn.
Her shoulders drop, the motion making her duffel bag slip off her shoulder and fall to the ground. Gabby doesn’t make a move to pick it up; she just stands there with her eyes closed. She looks so fragile at this moment, absolutely defeated and exhausted. I don’t think she’d appreciate my spying on her while she’s so vulnerable, but it gives me a better picture of who she is. I wonder if she ever lets anyone see behind the mask.
I watch as she wipes her eyes and pats herself on the cheeks a few times as if amping herself up to come inside. By the time she picks up her duffel bag and walks up the porch stairs, she’s built those walls around her heart even higher.
The front door opens and closes, and I busy myself with shuffling papers around so Gabby doesn’t know I was looking at her through the window.
“Miss me already?” I ask when she approaches the desk.
Gabby tries her best to glare at me, but I see the way her lips press together as if hiding a grin. I’d love to see her real smile one day.
“The coffee, actually. Mrs. Bishop brews a mean cup, and I need another fix.”
I smirk at her response, and she surprises me by returning it, however briefly. Gabby looks like she’s mad at herself for showing any emotion at all. I have no idea what gave her such a chip on her shoulder at such a young age, but I have a driving need to find out.
As I take in more of her features, I realize how much younger she is than me. Without knowing an exact age, I’m guessing I’m at least a dozen years her senior. That should be enough for me to drop whatever silly fascination I have with her. Instead, a protective streak rises to the surface.
I don’t see Gabby as the detached, stuck-up city girl I originally thought she was. I don’t know what her story is, but it’s certainly not as cliché as that.
“I don’t suppose your car has anything to do with it?” I ask after waiting a beat too long to answer. Something about her has me insanely curious. It could be that we hardly ever have visitors around here, but deep down, I know it’s more than that.
Gabby sighs as she digs through her purse. “It sustained more damage than originally thought. Some of the parts need to be shipped, which means you’re stuck with me for at least two more days.” Without looking at me, she hands me her credit card to pay for the room.
“Why don’t you keep your card, and we’ll settle up when you check out?” I know car repairs are usually expensive, and I would hate for her not to have the funds. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d cut a deal with a guest in a tough spot.
“That won’t be necessary. I would like to pay for two nights now, and then you can keep my card on file in case I need to stay another night.”
When I don’t make a move to take her card, she huffs out a frustrated breath. What is with this woman and accepting kindness?
“I don’t like owing people money,” she says bluntly.
There it is. I should have guessed. Gabby doesn’t want to owe me anything or be indebted to me in any way, which speaks volumes. I’ve never considered myself a brilliant man, but I know how to read between the lines. She was taken advantage of at some point in her life and doesn’t trust anyone or anything.
“Fine.” I take her card and pretend to type in the numbers, though I don’t plan on charging her. The stubborn woman can’t even accept a gift.
I hand her the key to the same room she was in last night and watch her walk down the hallway. I swear I try not to stare at her ass, but Jesus, the things I want to do…
Stop it. Don’t even go there.
