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A SPRING RAINSTORM blew into the region the following afternoon; the clouds broke just as Mari turned onto the road to Travis’s cabin. The steady downpour striking the car roof played rhythmic counterpoint to the rattling sounds emanating from the cardboard box sitting on the passenger seat.
She navigated bumps and ruts and expanding puddles at a snail pace, mindful of the box’s contents—items dropped off throughout the day at the café for her to bring to Travis: a tin of snickerdoodle cookies from Angela Gunderson, two jars of homemade applesauce from Dodie Arnesen (the pastor’s wife), a metal folding lap tray Pam found in the attic, a stack of paperback books from Shawna’s Louis L’Amour collection, a jar of honey from Rick and Leslie Sawyer (a young couple who’d started a bee farm on the south end of town), a bottle of whiskey from Saul MacNally (the owner of the Hideaway), and—packed snugly at the bottom of the box, one of Sage’s chocolate meringue pies.
Word had spread through town that Mari was taking care of Travis. All morning, people—many she’d never spoken with since arriving in Hollister—expressed their gratitude. They asked how Travis was doing. Any speculation as to why Mari Jones—the girl found hiding in Travis’s barn on Christmas morning, the girl who’d bitten his thumb and scratched his face—was now helping him, they kept to themselves.
The people of Hollister were nice, Mari decided. All this time, she assumed they were judging her, casting strange looks because of the color of her skin and her mysterious past. But they were merely curious about her, just like they’d show curiosity about any newcomer. She hoped that was the case anyway. Her deep-rooted caution and distrust wouldn’t magically evaporate overnight. But she felt lighter today, in mind and spirit.
Another car sat in front of Travis’s cabin. Mari parked behind it. By the time she reached the front porch, the box heavy in her arms—a grocery bag holding half a dozen bags of frozen peas dangling from one wrist—her hair was sopping. She set the box and bag on the bench. The door opened as she reached for the handle, and Viv Jacobsen stepped out.
“Well, I never!” the woman said. Her inquisitive brown eyes shone as bright as her voice. “When Sage told me you volunteered to help Travis, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather. You, of all people. Last time I observed you and Travis together in the same room, you scurried to the kitchen to hide like a scared rabbit.”
Mari bristled. “I’m not scared of him.”
Viv either didn’t hear or ignored the warning in Mari’s tone. “I can’t blame you for running,” the older woman said. “He was hopping mad you bit his hand. He almost lost his thumb, you know. Ah, well, I presume it’s all water under the bridge now. I hate seeing any hostilities in our little community. What a relief you and Travis kissed and made up... Oh, no need for embarrassment. It’s only a saying. I’m not implying you two have something going on. Although, when a single young lady spends the night at a bachelor’s house, people will talk. But don’t you worry. I won’t utter a word!”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Mari said, quelling her anger. How had Viv discovered Mari stayed with Travis last night? It would spread all over town by nightfall. “I would do the same for you.”
Viv looked taken aback. “You would?”
“Yes. If you are ever sick or hurt, I would help you.”
“Well... How thoughtful.” Viv’s curious eyes flitted to the box. “What have you got there?”
“Oh, just some items people wanted Travis to have.” Mari kept her voice light. She moved away from the box to allow Viv easy access to the contents.
“Is this Dodie’s applesauce?” Viv humphed. “I called her this morning and asked her to drop a jar by my house. She knew I was coming here today. And Leslie told me she was out of honey. Oh.” She held up the bottle of whiskey. “Who gave you this?”
“Mr. MacNally.”
“Saul gave this to you? I don’t think it’s a good idea for Travis to drink alcohol.” Her chin quivered. “I don’t keep the stuff in my house.”
No wonder her son Elias spent so much time at the Hideaway. Mari shoved aside the temptation to remind Viv about that. As the older woman rifled through the box, Mari glimpsed genuine hurt and bewilderment behind her prying eyes. And something that looked like fear.
Mari knew about facades, about revealing one face to the world while keeping her true self concealed. “I can understand that,” she said in an agreeable tone. “Oh, Squeak and Mutt raved about your chicken casserole last night. They had third helpings.”
Viv’s face softened into a natural smile. “Well, I’m glad I baked another this morning. I just finished stocking Travis’s fridge. There should be plenty to keep the boys fed through Tuesday.”
“That’s very nice of you.” Mari hefted the box. “Could you hold the door open for me?”
“Of course. Let me help you put everything away. These goodies will make Travis so happy. He’s always had a sweet tooth.”
Mari darted a glance to the closed bedroom door.
“He’s been asleep since I arrived an hour ago,” Viv said. “I poked my head in to check. He’s snoring like a chainsaw.”
The thunderous snore suddenly penetrating the knotty pine door gave proof to Viv’s remark.
Mari suppressed a laugh. “Sleep is the best healer.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I make sure my Lou gets a solid eight hours every night.”
While she helped Mari unload the box, the woman chatted about her husband and how busy the gas station—Lou’s business—was now that spring had arrived. She chatted about what a tremendous help her son was at the station, how expert he’d become at repairing cars. She chatted and chatted until Mari said, “I can carry that empty casserole dish to your car for you. Looks like the rain has lightened.”
“Oh, would you please? I need both hands to hold this hood over my hair. I just had it set yesterday.”
Mari placed the dish on the passenger seat and made to close the door, but Viv reached across the seat to grasp her hand. “Until today, you never uttered more than a few words around me. You’re always hiding in corners. It’s wonderful seeing you out and about like this. And thanks for helping Travis. I can tell you’re a considerate young woman.”
Mari read nothing in Viv’s tone or expression other than sincerity. She smiled. “Thank you. Watch out for those puddles.”
Back in the cabin, she crossed to the bedroom door and gave it a light tap with her knuckles.
“Come in.”
Travis sat propped against the headboard, an open book resting on his lap.
“That was the worst fake snore I ever heard.”
A sly grin lifted his haggard face. “It worked.”
She moved closer to the bed. “You look tired. Did you rest at all today?”
The grin vanished. “How can I? First Sage bringing me breakfast and thumping pillows. Then Hedda stopped by at lunchtime and insisted on putting fresh sheets on the bed. Mutt and Squeak poking in all day. Then Viv. And now...”
“Me?” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll leave if you prefer.”
A pair of glinting grey eyes surveyed her solemn face. “What will the boys do about dinner if you’re gone?”
“Press Start on the microwave.”
His chuckle halted on a groan. He followed her glance to the bottle of ibuprofen on the nightstand. “I took some about two hours ago. I’ll take more in another hour.”
“Is it helping?”
“A little.” His mouth flattened in a frustrated line. “Not sure how much longer I can tolerate lying in this bed. Most days I’m on my feet or my horse sixteen hours of twenty-four. I sleep best after a day of hard work.”
“The doctor said—”
“I understand what the doctor said.” He scrubbed at his tired eyes. “But I’m about ready to climb the walls.”
His frustration was tangible. She struck a soothing tone. “If you can keep it together for three more days? Then you can stay on the crutches longer.”
“Thanks for your sympathy.”
She prickled at his sarcasm. “Men make the worst patients.”
“Yeah? You have experience nursing men?”
“Yes. I helped nurse my uncle the three months before he died.”
Silence enveloped the room.
She hadn’t intended to share such a personal detail. Not with Travis or anyone. The months caring for her uncle while enduring his wife and stepchildren’s nastiness were memories better kept to herself.
Mari began to straighten the room to avoid the questions in Travis’s eyes. She found the grey tee shirt he wore yesterday flung in one corner, a pair of rolled-up socks in another. She collected the items and tossed them towards the door on their way to the hamper. Then she picked up the wastebasket filled with crumpled tissues.
“How long ago did your uncle die?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She clutched the wastebasket to her chest, her eyes lowered. “Are you hungry?”
Several beats passed before he said, “I guess I can manage another bowl of soup. As you can see from that wastebasket, it’s clearing up my congestion.”
“Great.” She made a dash for the bedroom door, only to halt in the threshold when he spoke her name in a gravelly voice.
“What?” she asked in an aggrieved tone, her back towards him.
“Your hair is wet. Dry it. I don’t want you catching a cold too.”
When she returned with the soup and some bread on the lap tray along with the fresh bags of frozen peas, she had her hair scraped back in a ponytail; she’d squeezed most of the moisture out and stood in front of the fire for a few minutes.
Travis set his book aside and sat up straighter. The effort brought a grimace to his pale face.
“Take this.” She handed him the tray; it was better he found a comfortable place to set it. While he did that, she reached behind him, shifting and plumping up the pillows to give him support for his lower back. He murmured his thanks, but she ignored him. She folded the comforter away from his cast and changed out the ice packs with careful hands. After taking the thawed ice packs to the freezer, she checked the items on Travis’s nightstand. The humidifier needed more water. She unplugged it and carried it to the kitchen.
“You mad?” he asked when she came back, his expression charmingly doleful.
“No.”
“Sit with me for a while?”
“No. You stink.”
He barked out a startled laugh. “What?”
“You need to take a shower. Didn’t Mutt or Squeak offer to help with that? I asked them to.”
A ferocious scowl lowered over his flashing eyes. “They have plenty to do already. Don’t need them holding my hand in the shower.”
It was her turn to laugh, the sound catching her by surprise.
His frown melted, his expression changing to something warm, something almost tender. “You have a pretty laugh,” he said in a low voice. “It sounds like tiny silver bells...” Then his voice quickly pitched louder as he continued in a placid tone. “I’ll call Spence later. He can help me with the shower. In the meantime, to save your precious nose, you can hand me that bottle of cologne on the dresser.”
She complied, her head spinning from his offhand compliment.
His fingers grazed hers as he took the bottle; she didn’t flinch this time. She watched while he spritzed cologne on his shirt and neck. A pleasant, spicy scent wafted towards her. Where had she smelled that scent before?
“The barn,” she said.
“Hmm?”
“I remember that scent in your barn. On Christmas Eve. Hay and horses and that scent.”
“I’m sorry. Do you want me to wash it off?”
“No. I like it.”
She retreated to the armchair still positioned close to the bed and nestled into it. A shiver traveled up her spine as she recalled the bitter cold of that night and the comforting warmth of the barn. “You saved me that night. I might have frozen to death. Then I saw that light shining above the barn door.” Her chest rose and fell on a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I scared you,” he said without reproach.
She stared at his composed features. “I wanted to apologize since it happened. Sorry it took this long.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s over and done.” As if they were discussing the weather, he returned his attention to his soup.
Just as she relaxed against the chair cushions, he said, “I’ve wondered about some things since that morning. I can’t figure how you got to my ranch. I’m two miles from the main road and another mile to the barn. You told the sheriff you escaped from... Jeff, was it? That was at the Town Pump in Big Timber. How did you get to Hollister?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough.” He buttered a slice of bread, dipped it into the soup, and chewed. He finished the bread before he said, “Although, not fair when you think about it. I recall sharing some very personal things with you last night. Plus, I’ll have this scar on my hand for the rest of my life.” He waved the offended hand at her. “Don’t you think I deserve some answers?”
“A few minutes ago, you said, ‘It’s over and done.’”
“True.” He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. If her defensive attitude bothered him, it didn’t show.
Mari couldn’t figure him out. One minute, he was asking nosy questions; the next, he acted nonchalant. One thing for certain, he didn’t behave in an aggressive or domineering manner. If he did, she wouldn’t be sitting with him.
Her gaze dropped to her hands fisted in her lap. With deliberate motions, she relaxed her fingers, spreading them against her jeans-clad thighs. She cleared her throat. “At the gas station, I hitched a ride from a trucker. He said he was heading to Harlowton and could drop me off in Hollister on the way. He seemed like an okay guy. In his forties. Big like a bear. He showed me pictures on his cell phone of his wife and kids. Said he couldn’t wait to get home to Great Falls in time to open presents on Christmas morning. When he took the turnoff to Hollister, the road was slick with ice. He said it was too dangerous to go any farther. I remember that funny sign at Lou’s gas station. Snack at Lou’s and Get Gas.” She bit out a brief, humorless laugh. “It was around eleven o’clock, and the station was closed. He parked there. I asked him how much farther it was to the town. I had this vague plan to knock on doors until I found Jonathan’s house. He lied. Said it was another five miles, said we needed to stay put until the county trucks rolled through with road salt. Then he suggested we snuggle together in the sleeper cab to keep warm.” She shivered. “The way he said that word. Snuggle. I knew he wanted something else. I said, sure, no problem, but I needed to go to the bathroom. He followed me from the truck. I think he knew I planned to escape because he grabbed my arm and tried to pull me back to the truck. I fought him off. He slipped on the ice, and I broke free. Then I ran. I was in such a panic he was coming after me, I didn’t pay attention to what direction I took. There was a full moon that night. The landscape was so white and bright. If I stayed on the road, he’d see me. So, I cut through the fields. The snow was so high in places, I couldn’t see over the top. I worried I’d sink into a drift and suffocate. I think I walked across Sweet Grass Creek at one point. The ice cracked and my boots got wetter. My feet were freezing. I didn’t have gloves. I thought for sure I would die. And then I saw the light from your barn.”
At that last word, relief coursed through her. There was now one less story to keep buried, one less burden to carry in her soul.
“Did you get his name?” Travis asked.
Her head lifted at the thinly veiled fury in his voice. “What?”
“The trucker. What was his name?”
“Bruce. But I’m sure he was lying.”
“Did you tell the sheriff?”
“No.” Fresh worry seared her. “You’re angry. I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No,” he said, instantly contrite. “I’m not angry with you, Mari. I’m angry about what he did to you. If I knew who he was, I’d hunt him down and... Let’s just say, Montanans have a history of taking justice into their own hands.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’d do that?”
“You betcha I would.” He studied her confounded expression. “You’re not accustomed to people defending you, I see.”
“I can defend myself.”
“Well, I can attest to that.” His voice softened. “But you don’t have to face things alone anymore. You have Jonathan now. And Pam. And me. Pretty much everyone in and around Hollister would help you if needed. In these parts, we take care of our own.”