by Rachel Lee
“I’m sorry.”
“He wanted to make it a career. He would have stayed anyway. But it got to be too much for him. He was at war for an awful long time, Sky.”
“Too many were.” She knew the toll that had taken, too. She’d worked with men who’d spent the better part of six or eight years in combat zones. Unimaginable. “Is he getting better?”
“He’s gone.”
She sucked a sharp breath. Words wouldn’t come as her heart started to crack.
“I’m sure he’s better now,” Craig said. Then he turned on his side, giving her his back.
Sky stared at that back for a long time before sleep finally snuck up on her.
* * *
Morning arrived with watery light pouring through the cabin’s one dusty window and the smell of perking coffee. Stirring, feeling really good, Sky allowed herself the luxury of stretching and slowly waking up.
The cabin was empty, and for a moment she wondered if Craig had left. He had a job after all. But no, he’d said he’d take her into town this morning for clothes and her car.
Then the door opened and he walked in. For an instant he was framed against the brighter morning outside and the towering pines. In that instant he looked almost mythical, so tall and strong, and clad in his forestry uniform.
And so damn sexy. That sexiness didn’t just come from his good looks and powerful build either. She was drawn to that serenity, that inner strength he seemed to have. He felt like an emotional oasis in the midst of a stressful world.
She sighed, telling herself to quit being fanciful, and pushed up on one elbow, tossing her hair back from her face.
“Sorry if I woke you. I was out taking care of Dusty.”
“Dusty’s your horse?”
“None other.”
“Well, you didn’t wake me. I woke all by myself. That coffee smells good.”
“It smells about ready, too. Want me to bring you a mug there?”
“Actually, I need to get up and move. But thanks.” She pulled the zipper down on the sleeping bag and stood up, padding in her socks over to the table.
He looked so pressed and creased this morning that she felt grungy by comparison. Same clothes as yesterday, and worse, spattered by paint. Maybe she carried the individualistic artist thing a bit too far. But then, honestly, she couldn’t seem to keep clothes for long without getting paint on them.
“I look like a hag,” she announced.
“That’s not possible.” He joined her at the table. “I could lend you a hairbrush if you’re desperate and don’t think that’s icky.”
“After four years in the army, little seems icky anymore.”
He smiled. “Ain’t that the truth. Cereal for breakfast, I’m afraid.”
“That sounds so good. I’m ravenous. Something about fresh air.”
“The air’s fresher outside,” he joked. “It might make you even hungrier.” But he didn’t jump up immediately to get breakfast and she was grateful for that. She wanted her coffee first, and then maybe she’d be capable of helping him.
Feeling around in her pocket, she found a scrunchy and pulled her hair back from her face into a loose ponytail.
“I’m sorry it’s chilly in here, but I let the fire go out overnight.”
“We wouldn’t want a forest fire.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m fine, really.” She looked down at the arms of her shirt. “You must wonder why I’m always covered in paint.”
“Actually no. You’re an artist. Why, do you get asked a lot?”
“It annoyed my ex-boyfriend. Somehow that little black dress I tried to keep in the closet for important occasions always managed to get messed up like everything else. I joke that the paint jumps out of the tubes at me. Maybe I’m just sloppy.”
“Well, I’ve painted some. Not oil painting but other kinds. The funny thing about paint is that it seems to go everywhere, and you don’t notice it on your elbow, or the sole of your shoe, or wherever, until you’ve messed up something else.”
She flashed him a grin. “You do understand.”
“Yup.”
“If I catch it soon enough, sometimes I can get it out. But too often the pigment is a permanent stain anyway.” She shook her head. “I look for cheap clothes because I know that before long they’re going to be painting clothes.”
“That’s hardly a crime.”
“Well, it feels grungy when you look like you just stepped out of a recruiting manual.”
He laughed. “Only because I picked up my stuff from the dry cleaner yesterday. Besides, I have to meet certain job standards. It’s not always easy when I’m out in the woods for days on end.”
“I wouldn’t think so. Life was easier in some ways when we wore cammies.”
“Not if you were getting them splattered with paint, too.”
He made her laugh, and he did it so easily. She liked this man. She felt a sort of bond with him already, probably because they shared some background, but bond aside, she just liked him. He seemed to have a naturally upbeat nature, and if she had a choice, that’s how she wanted to be, too.
He finally got the cereal and a quart of milk from the truck and a couple cheap plastic bowls and metal spoons from the cupboard. The silence felt companionable as they ate and then washed up, this time in cold water.
“Let’s get you back to town,” he said as he rolled up the sleeping bags. “On the way I want to talk to you about the wisdom of coming back into Buddy’s vicinity to paint.”
“I thought I’d given you my opinion.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t press mine again.”
“Not a quitter, huh?”
“No more than you.”
“Dang marines,” she said, but not seriously. That just drew another laugh from him.
Sky was an appealing woman, and he liked what he’d seen of her personality so far. It troubled him, what had happened to her yesterday, for her sake. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to believe you had left all that bad stuff behind only to have it rear up without warning while sitting in a perfectly safe place on a warm, sunny day. That had to leave her feeling insecure.
So he could understand why she didn’t want to give ground to Buddy and his outsized paranoia. It would mean giving up something else, and of course she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to face things and get on with life.
And she was probably wondering if Buddy had been the cause of her slip at all. Two days later must make it seem unlikely to her.
He damned the fact that he spent so much time alone. It made him a dull conversationalist. He wasn’t one to just make conversation anymore. Maybe he never had been, but days spent alone in the company of the forest, days during which his only human contact might be radioing in to headquarters, had an effect. For the first time he wondered if it was a bad one.
With Sky sitting on the bench seat beside him as he drove back toward town, he felt the silence like a weight. Ordinarily he found silence to be a great companion, but now he felt it like a failing. She must be uneasy inside herself, but he couldn’t think of a thing to say to distract her or just amuse her.
Damn.
She was the one who spoke first, though. “Just how edgy has this Buddy got you?”
“Edgy enough that I’m not going to ignore him for a while.”
“Is that really reason for me not to paint there again? You said you warned him to leave me alone.”
“You and anyone else rightfully on public lands. But he already knew that.”
“And that’s part of what’s worrying you.”
“Yes,” he admitted. He glanced at her as they drove along the dirt road, and felt the punch of attraction again. Easy, boy, he told himself. The woman’s fragile. Maybe not too fragile, but after yesterday he couldn’t count on it. Not that her possible fragility seemed like a problem, except that he didn’t want to hurt her in some way with a misstep.
Sky didn’t answer as they ro
unded a bend and gravel crunched beneath the tires. When she spoke at last, it was revealing. “I have to do it, Craig. I’m not sure that’s what set me off yesterday. If it was, it was one heck of a delayed reaction. But I need to know I can face things.”
She needed to know it wasn’t going to happen again anytime soon. He could understand that easily. He’d watched Mark, his brother, fight the same battle and never win, not ultimately. He wanted Sky to regain the security that had been shattered yesterday.
So okay, he thought, he’d have to keep a close eye on her without hovering. From a distance so she didn’t feel as if he didn’t trust her. Damn, how was he supposed to do that? Well, he had plenty of reason to be poking around in the vicinity of Buddy’s place, looking for any blocked streams. He’d already given Buddy a heads-up on that, so theoretically there shouldn’t be a problem. It would be a way to assure Sky that he was working, not hovering.
So that’s the way it would be. Relieved that he’d settled that, he drove right past the headquarters building and on toward town. “You’re staying at the motel?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Great place.” His tone was a tad sarcastic, unusual for him. Probably a sign that he was getting wound up about things.
“It’s not so bad. I’ve been in worse.” Then she laughed quietly. “But your cabin was nicer.”
He managed a chuckle in response, but the difficulty of producing it was another warning. Okay, so his isolation was about to be disturbed in a couple of ways. His days of communing with the woods were going to be disrupted, thank you very much, Buddy.
He stifled a sigh for fear Sky might misinterpret it.
“Okay,” he said. “I said I’d give you a radio. Keep it with you all the time, especially when you’re in the forest. I want you to promise me that if anything feels even the least bit wrong you’ll radio me.”
“I can do that.” She paused. “You are at REDCON Three.”
“I’m rapidly getting there.”
“Because of me?”
Yeah, because of her. She threw another factor into the Buddy equation, and he was already unhappy with that. “It’s Buddy,” he said, which was at least partially true. “He’s acting out of character. I’m not going to be entirely easy until I know what’s happening over there.”
“I can help with that.”
He almost jammed on the brakes. “Sky, stay out of it. Nobody knows the dimensions of the problem, or if there’s a real threat. Nobody. It’s not your responsibility. Don’t get in the middle.”
“I’m not going to turn tail. I’m not going to do anything except paint and pay attention. But you’re sadly mistaken if you think I’d leave a comrade to face this alone.”
When had he become a comrade? Well, of course, when he’d told her he had been a marine. That was going to complicate matters, because he knew that code too well. There’d be no talking her out of this if that was the tack she was taking.
Nor could he see any way to argue with her about it. There were some things the military just stamped on your soul, and that was one of them.
Another complication.
“I won’t do anything stupid,” she assured him. “I have no desire to. But I’ll just be alert and keep my eyes out, okay? I can do that while I paint without being obvious.”
He supposed he was going to have to be content with that. But then he got to thinking about what might have set her off yesterday. If she could figure it out, that could be important. He absolutely hated the possibility that it might happen to her all alone in the woods.
“What were you thinking about yesterday morning?” he asked.
“What? Oh, you mean when...it happened?”
“Yeah. Maybe there was a trigger of some kind.”
She fell silent long enough for him to wonder if he had offended her. But eventually she spoke, just as they were reaching the outskirts of town.
“Truthfully? I seem to remember thinking how peaceful it was in the square, and how nice to be able to look at all those blank windows and closed doors and not have to wonder what was behind them.”
Blank windows and closed doors. “That may have been it,” he remarked. “Think about it.”
“Perhaps,” she said presently. “It could be. It was a funny way for my thoughts to turn, but then I’m usually busy with something and don’t pay attention. Yesterday I wasn’t busy at all.”
“I’ll tell you a secret I’ve never told anyone else.” He felt her eyes on him. “When I first got back, I couldn’t stand closed doors even inside my own apartment. It took a while.”
“Yes,” she answered quietly. “And driving. It was six months before I could drive without seeing everything on the road as a threat.”
“Yeah. I remember that, too. Once burned and all that.”
He wheeled the truck into the parking lot at the La-Z-Rest Motel, next to her car. “If you want, pack up enough stuff so you can stay overnight at the cabin. I can show you the way back later. It’s not far from where you were painting, believe it or not.”
“Thanks, I’ll think about it. Your bosses won’t give you trouble?”
“Not if I tell her first.”
He bent across her, getting a whiff of deliciously womanly scents that drove his libido into high gear. Crap. The downside of spending so much time by himself was a certain group of unsatisfied needs. But now was definitely not the time.
He pulled a radio out and handed it to her. “You’ve probably used these before.”
She looked it over. “It’s very similar to one I had in the army.”
“It’s almost identical. The government tends to buy big lots.” Despite his every resolution and all his good common sense, he couldn’t stop himself from touching the back of her hand and then squeezing her shoulder. “Keep in touch. I want to know where you are, okay?”
For an instant he saw a flash of rebellion in her face, but it vanished quickly. Evidently, she understood the sense in his request. “Will do.”
He sat with his motor idling while he watched her disappear into her motel room.
Trouble, he thought. For the first time he wondered who was going to give him the most: Sky or Buddy.
Then he put the truck in gear and backed out. Time to get to work.
* * *
Buddy watched Cap’s three guys unload nonperishable food from two box trucks into his beat-up barn. The barn would serve for now, until they finished the new cabin and its underground cellars.
What almost nobody knew was that beneath Buddy’s own cabin, over the years he’d built an underground bunker for his family. Nothing fancy, but bit by bit he’d strengthened it until it could stand against anything but a direct nuclear attack, not that he was expecting one of those here on his remote mountain.
But now Cap and his guys were joining Buddy, and that meant more food and necessarily a bigger bunker, or at least an additional one. Buddy didn’t mind. He kinda liked the way Cap thought, and he liked the control Cap exerted over his men, as he called them. They jumped to do what he said like good soldiers.
But it also gave Buddy a chance to impress Cap, because building underground on the side of a mountain had certain problems. Buddy knew how to deal with them, and Cap didn’t. So Buddy might not have an army of his own, but he was an expert in some things. That meant Cap needed him.
As the thought drifted across Buddy’s mind, he felt a quiver of unease. It had seemed like such a good idea to join forces with Cap and his group. It helped with a lot of things, like the guns, the ammo, the expense, even the food.
But on the other hand, from time to time it occurred to Buddy that Cap could just take over. That he could decide to run the show, maybe even get rid of Buddy and his family.
Each time he had the thought, though, Buddy told himself he was being too paranoid. Cap had never done anything even to hint that his thoughts ran that way. Hell, if that’s what he wanted, he could have taken over already. Instead he was building an add
itional bunker and cabin, and bringing in plenty of supplies of his own, not using up Buddy’s.
So no reason to regard Cap with suspicion. He had no reason not to think the guy was a man of his word.
Preppers had to stick together, after all. If they started turning on each other, no way they’d survive the coming apocalypse.
Nobody was really sure what form that apocalypse would take. Sometimes he and his wife and now Cap would sit around in the evening and talk about all the possibilities, each worse than the next. Cap seemed to lean toward revolution, and Buddy considered that a definite possibility.
He only got edgy when Cap kind of hinted that maybe they should just go ahead and get the ball rolling. But every time he said something like that, Cap would then laugh as if he were making a joke.
The guy had a weird sense of humor.
The three men had just finished carrying the last boxes of MREs into the barn when the sound of an approaching engine reached them. While the trees muffled noises for the most part, the facing hills had a contradictory effect, bouncing sounds back this way.
“Pull those trucks behind the barn,” Cap barked at his guys. “Make yourselves invisible.”
The three guys hopped to. Buddy enjoyed that.
Cap looked at him. “You expecting somebody?”
“No.”
“What about that ranger?”
“Craig? He never comes from the county road. Ever. Besides, this is my property. The Forest Service stays off it.”
Cap nodded. He felt the sling of the AR-15 hanging over his shoulder. Buddy found it strange that the guy was never more than six inches from his gun, especially out here where there was damn all to be worried about most of the time, but that was Cap.
“Maybe I should get out of sight,” Cap said.
“Naw. You’re my friend. But you might stash the rifle until we know what’s going on. For all I know it’s a UPS delivery.” That was a joke, because UPS dropped his stuff in town with a friend willing to hold them for him. He didn’t get deliveries out here.
Joke or not, it got Cap to put his rifle out of sight. Buddy couldn’t say why that relieved him, but he knew he wasn’t ready to be looking for trouble. Talking to that painter at Cap’s prompting had brought him a lot more attention than he really wanted.
