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Heather
The optimism I felt after my interview faded every day that I didn’t get a reply from Janelle. When someone else from the bank emailed me about a form that I’d filled out, where a fillable text box had been acting glitchy, I wanted to assume it was a good sign, that I was still being actively considered.
When a week had gone by and no call from Janelle came, I tried to stay positive. I didn’t stop looking for other openings, but there were none around here. Even the remote ones required consistent travel with a couple of hours of a commute. Hybrid jobs with in-office times were tricky to pull off with how far Burton was from everywhere.
To relax and try to get my mind off the chance that I’d read Janelle wrong or saw things that weren’t there in that interview, I took an extra-long and hot shower later than usual. Steam built within the tiny but clean bathroom, and I stalled in the warmth. Only when I looked overly pruny did I get out and get ready for bed.
Just as I reached for the cover on the bed to pull it back, someone knocked on the front door.
I froze.
My fingers tightened on the blanket, squeezing tightly in a knee-jerk reaction to the noise.
Someone is here?
The notion of anyone coming this way at this late hour and in this dreary cold weather made no sense.
Who is it?
What’s going on?
Is there an emergency?
Deep in the back of my mind, another little voice popped up.
Is it him?
Did he find me?
Having an unexpected visitor stopping here was the last thing I wanted, but I immediately feared it had to be him. The one I ran from. The man I hid from.
David?
Another knock sounded.
I jolted, tightening a fist around the handful of fabric I held. Stiff and tense, I couldn’t bring myself to move any further. I couldn’t even dare to inhale a full breath.
Is it him?
Another question bombarded me, overwhelming me with this instant panic.
How?
How did he find me?
I’d slipped out before he could do anything. I left my phone behind and got a new cheaper one. I googled how to disable tracking. All those steps I’d taken to conceal my location all seemed for nothing now.
It had to be him. My enemy was standing on my step. Privacy was still an illusion. This hope for a new start and finding a sense of security was a damn joke.
He was here—
“Hello?”
I narrowed my eyes, sharpening an unseeing stare on the back of the door.
Wait.
That was a woman’s voice. Not a man’s.
The thought of it not being David almost dizzied me. I couldn’t think of anyone, much less any woman, wanting anything with me out here. I wasn’t in prime real estate for solicitors to come knocking. Jehovah witnesses didn’t make rounds this late, did they?
“Anyone there? I see your light on,” she called out, pairing it with another series of knocks.
Dammit. The light from the bedside lamp. I wished I’d shut it off already. Attracting visitors wasn’t a goal of mine, regardless of who she was.
“Hello?” she called out again.
She didn’t sound distressed. No begging hint made me think she was in dire need of a rescue. No cries, whimpers, or sobs.
“I need help,” she said.
I narrowed my eyes. This wasn’t Main Street. My cabin wasn’t in a public area for just any old pedestrian to walk up to. I was out here at the Grand River Ranch, inaccessible without a decent drive and long walk.
Curious now, and worried about what could have brought a woman out this way, I released my clutch on the blanket and slowly walked up to the door. I hadn’t kicked out of the lightweight shoes I used as slippers yet. Nor had I taken off my hoodie that I’d put on to stay cozily warm after my nuclear-hot shower. I was covered enough to open the door, and I did.
A young woman stood there, staring at me like she’d been waiting on me for an hour.
Pinks and purples showed in a disarray of her thin, starchy-looking hair. The light from the lamp behind me reflected off the metal rings in her nose, lip, brows, and more. Black garments hung off her body, but the dark colors of her attire didn’t completely hide how thin and gaunt she looked. Maybe she was always that pale and skinny, but facing her with the light drizzle still misting outside, she damn near looked like an apparition.
“Hey!” She perked up, brightening at the sight of me. “You’re home.”
I raised my brows, keeping my body right where it was, to block her entrance into the cabin. Holding on to the door was my best shot at another barricade, my arm stiff and rigid. “Do...we know each other?”
“No.” She smiled and shrugged. “But hello there, neighbor.”
Neighbor?
“You live out here?” I asked. She was the last person I’d expect to see living on the ranch. And that wasn’t just because she looked like the opposite of a ranch hand. Honestly, I was surprised anyone could claim to be living out here. I had yet to see anyone else coming or going from the cabins I passed on the way back to the road, and I’d happily assumed I was the sole tenant this way.
“Yep.” She answered too quickly to dupe me. “My cabin’s back thataway,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction of the bumpy road.
“Uh-huh.” I was instantly suspicious. It was hard not to be, with how alone I felt back here close to the woods, but I had David to thank for this quick-to-grow skepticism of what others told me.
And everything this teen told me seemed like a lie. If she was a neighbor, why hadn’t I seen her before? I’d been here for over two weeks now.
“But I lost my key,” she said, cringing in a self-deprecating way that was probably supposed to make me relax. “Silly me.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I said, monotone and staying skeptical.
“Yeah. It sucks.” She wrapped her arms around her thin frame and shivered. “It’s freaking cold out here.”
Uh, no. No way. I pulled my door closed that much more. If she was trying to get in here and mooch off my hospitality, she wouldn’t get far. I was raised by two mooches, always on the lookout. My mom and dad had always done this kind of stuff, taking advantage of others’ goodwill. A good Samaritan was their ideal target, and inversely, it trained me to always have my guard up with people looking for “help” or a handout. I hated to be this cautious, but with the childhood I had, it was impossible for me to expect any different.
“It’s getting cold out here,” she said, as if her overly exaggerated full-body shiver had gone unnoticed. It hadn’t. And it was chilly out there, especially with the rain stopping and that icy mist hovering close to the saturated ground.
“I was hoping you’d help me get into my cabin.”
Huh. So, she wasn’t trying to ask to stay in here? She just wanted help to get in somewhere else? “Your cabin?” I asked, still hung up on that detail. One, she looked too young to be a rancher and actual employee tenant. Two, where had she been for me not to notice her sooner?
“Yeah.” She smiled. “My cabin. Can you come with me and help me get to the spare key?”
Red flags popped up all over. I wasn’t buying this.
“How can I know that you actually live around here?”
“Well, I just told you,” she stated, like I was slow.
“And I’m supposed to just take a stranger’s word? Like that?” I snapped my fingers. “You knocked on the wrong door to find a gullible idiot.”
She smirked. “I can prove it with my papers in the cabin, but if I can’t get in there...” She shrugged, turning the movement into a bigger and longer shiver, chattering her teeth, too.
“Or you could use your key,” she added.
“My key? To open another cabin?”
“Yeah.” She nodded aggressively. “It’ll work.”
I shook my head. “No. It won’t.”
“Yeah. It will. Or it’ll jimmy the lock enough to give way. Trust me. These cabins aren’t exactly state-of-the-art and new.”
I knew that. But no one would install identical locks on all the cabins. That was a dumb safety mistake.
Now that she said this, though, I couldn’t help but recall how my cousin had assumed my key was for cabin number six. The key did slide in that other knob, but it didn’t turn.
“You gonna help me or what?” she asked, sounding a tad too impatient for my liking.
I was just about to go to bed. I was warm. I owed this teenager nothing.
Yet, I couldn’t make myself turn her away. I knew what it felt like for everyone to give me one look and assume I was trouble or not worthy of their time. Just through the association with my parents, I was dismissed and ignored.
It cracked a little bit of my heart to consider doing the same to this girl. She didn’t seem trustworthy at all, but I saw with my own eyes that she was alone, and young, and cold. I couldn’t leave her out in the elements like this.
Being an empath really put a crimp on staying guarded.
“Fine.” I kept my stern gaze on her as I turned for my keys and phone resting on a side table. “I’ll help you.”
Or I’ll stick around long enough to see what you really want.
I wasn’t afraid, not of her. She lacked meat on her bones. No muscles. No strength. Looks could be deceiving, but I was certain that if she attacked me or tried to harm me, I could handle her. I hadn’t completely forgotten about those few self-defense classes I took when I first got to Chicago.
As soon as I stepped out the door, bundling my hoodie snugger around my body, I paused. “Wait. Why don’t you just call for someone at the ranch?”
The teen shrugged, walking a ten-speed bike down the path. “They’re probably all sleeping.”
That was true. I bet no one else at the ranch handled these cabins but Todd, and he had to be asleep already.
I hesitated though, texting Eric to see if he could confirm that this girl was a ranch hand or tenant.
He didn’t reply, but again, he was likely already asleep despite it being a Friday. I didn’t know who else to call to foist this teen’s problem onto. So, onward I walked.
She didn’t say anything as we trekked further into the darkness. My shoes were squeaky with cold wetness. Mist clung to my face. All that glorious, cozy warmth I felt from my too-hot shower was gone. I’d need another one when I got home, just to warm back up again.
See. She can’t hang outside all night like this...
I would never credit myself as having a solid maternal sense of nurturing, but this was common sense. Of course, she couldn’t be out all night, dressed in those thin layers of Hot Topic gear. While she wasn’t my problem, I wasn’t so coldhearted to not help. The further we walked and the colder I felt, though, I wished that my neighborly need to help wasn’t as strong as my common sense to remain suspicious.
In that regard, some things just never changed.
“Over there,” she said at last, indicating another cabin.
It looked just like mine, updated with a new coat of exterior paint but otherwise simple and plain. The cabins were almost cookie cutter in this regard, all the same in shape, size, and lack of style.
We approached it, and the teen scoped out the place, like she counted on being caught here. Her caution gave me a trespasser vibe, and I had second thoughts all over again.
“Go on, try your key,” she urged.
I shook my head, narrowing my eyes at her. “It won’t work.”
“But it could.”
Don’t. Don’t believe her. She was trying too damn hard to get in this cabin. While I was grateful she wasn’t trying to get into my cabin, I was too skeptical to be naïve for a single second.
I put my key in. It slid all the way to the back.
“See!” She clapped once then gestured at the doorknob. “I told you.”
Then I turned my wrist to no avail. My hand moved, but the key remained in place, not budging. “I see a lock that can’t be opened by my key.”
“You need to jimmy it.” She took over, trying to wiggle the knob and my key.
I didn’t like her in my personal space and taking over. Nor did I like the thought of her having her hands on my key. Quickly, more on instinct than anything else, I reclaimed my grip. “I’ll take that.”
She retreated, frowning at the doorknob. “You’re not doing it right.”
“It’s not the right key,” I argued. It was a dumb idea, and I wondered what else I could suggest to this teen so I wouldn’t worry about her freezing overnight.
“Fine, then give me a boost.” She walked over to a window, crunching fallen leaves and dead twigs. Aiming her finger at the window, she indicated at the top portion that could lift upward as a slight opening in front of a screen.
“What?” This was getting wackier by the moment. “No.”
“Yeah.” She smiled, likely just to try to keep me at ease, as she lowered in a squat-like position while making a step of her joined hands. “Like this. Haven’t you ever done this before?”
Not like this, to break and enter. “You’re trying really hard to get into this cabin.”
“My cabin,” she insisted.
I’m not sold on that.
“Just gimme a boost. I can climb in and then—”
I stepped closer, furrowing my brow at a fresh scrape on the window frame. These cabins weren’t maintained so well that they didn’t bear signs of wear and tear. With the run-in from earlier though, I knew this mark was fresh.
From her? I eyed her, raising my brows as I pointed at the scrape along the lower part of the openable window.
“Come on. I’m cold,” she urged.
“Are you sure—”
Before I could be her accomplice, headlights cut through the darkness. Twin beams of brightness nearly blinded me. Squinting, I held up my hand as they shone my way.
“Shit.”
The teen took off, rushing through the darkness to hop on that old bike and pedal away.
I groaned, realizing how this had to look to whoever was driving up close. The beams from the headlights bounced as the vehicle covered the crappy dirt road, but there was no mistaking that they were aimed at us—
Not us.
Me.
That girl had run off, leaving me to deal with this incident. Caught red-handed, trying to sneak in another person’s place.
I can explain. I’ll explain and then head home. That’s all there is to it.
I crossed my arms over my chest in a self-hug to stay warm while the driver parked abruptly and got out. The headlights stayed on after the engine was turned off, and I squinted to see who stalked up to me.
Blinded by the light behind the man, I held my hand up to squint. It had to be a man.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I swallowed back a groan.
Him?
Of all people, it had to be Roarke storming up close and catching me under suspicious circumstances.
That’s just my damn luck.
