Exposed : My Mountain Man Protector(9)

“Sure, thanks,” I said.



He put me down and leaned over, and I hopped up onto his strong back. The pain in my legs dulled to a murmur, while my eyes reveled in the sight before me.



We were passing a pond. It was an unbroken sheet of reflection. The birch trees on its surface were as clear and as perfect as the real things at its edge, the only difference being the slightest rippling in the water versions. That and a duck who was swimming across obliviously, breaking apart one tree after the next, shattering reality’s oh-so-convincing reflection. This first duck was followed by another and then another, until the whole pond was a sheet of ducks instead of trees, showing a different type of beauty altogether.



I watched the flock in awe until it occurred to me: Where there were ducks, there was…



“Watch out,” I told him.



Blake froze and swore. It was already too late.



He lifted his boot, and we both laughed at the brown mess there.



“Sorry,” I said. “I thought of it at the last second.”



He wiped his poopy boot off on a nearby log.



“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for trying.”



The next few minutes consisted of Blake avoiding landmines of duck poop while I pointed out ones he looked to be missing. By the time we were in the clear, we’d arrived at the ranger’s station.



“Forgot to mention it’s abandoned,” Blake said as I got off him.



He glanced at my face, as if expecting a catty response. I only smiled shyly at him. I was just glad we were finally here.



I took in the house for a minute, keeping my face neutral so it didn’t look as dismayed as I was starting to feel. The abandoned ranger’s station was really an abandoned house—a leaning-to-one-side, red-bricked wreck.



“Found it on a hike a few weeks back,” Blake said, holding the glassless door for me to go through.



“Well…” I said, searching for right words, “no one will look here.”



And it was true. The ruin before me, the absolutely trashed relic of a house—no one would ever think anyone would be here.



The inside wasn’t much better than the outside. In the first room, there was a busted twist of a chandelier on the ceiling, while the walls were snakes, shedding their skin of plaster in imperfect crumbles. Meanwhile, the floor was a battle of glass and plaster (presumably from the chandelier and walls). Only the stone fireplace was intact, though there was a hole in the bottom that was gaping and terrifying.



“It needs some work,” Blake said flippantly, his gaze flicking to a pile of bottles in the corner.



At this, I burst out laughing, and he did too. We laughed and laughed and laughed until we slumped to a bare patch of floor.



“I’m sorry,” he said. “I may have acted rashly. I just thought this place was…remote.”



“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “You saved me. This place…it’s a fixer-upper.”



“Yes,” he said. “Yes, it is.”



His gaze was on my hand. After a minute, he rose, picked up the duffel bag with one hand, and stretched out the other.



“Tonight we’ll eat and sleep outside. Tomorrow we’ll get to work on this place.”



“Sounds like a plan,” I said, taking his hand with a smile.



Leaving the house was a relief.



By now, however, it was dark outside. Luckily, there was a small lantern that Blake lit. He plopped the duffel bag on the ground.



“There’s a fire pit around here somewhere,” he said. “It’s just too dark to find now. I don’t want to trip and land on a nail or shard of glass while looking for it.”



“I like the way you think,” I said.



I couldn’t really tell in the dark, but it almost looked like Blake was smiling.



He handed me two pieces of bread. “Tomorrow, when we can hunt and cook, our meals will be less depressing. But tonight, this is it.”



Again, I felt his expectant gaze on me, as if he were waiting for a muffled sigh, a stifled groan, anything.



“Raisin, my favorite.” That was what came out of my mouth to my own surprise.



We toasted bread pieces, and, after a minute, he finally asked me.



“What was that about?”



I swallowed the bread, but a lump stayed in my throat.



“What was what about?”



“When we first met, you accusing me, and then that man pretending to be a police officer. I need to know what I’ve gotten myself into.”



I nodded, keeping my gaze on the flickering candle flame.



“Of course. I’m sorry. I just…haven’t talked about it yet. To anyone.”