by Dana Pratola
“We’re here,” he said, as both men got out of the truck.
He closed his door and stood waiting, I realized quickly for someone to show him the way. Though I slid out as fast as I could, Ben was already around that side taking his arm, mumbling something to him.
“I’ll send someone out for your things,” Josiah told me.
I followed dumbly across gravel and dirt, suddenly freezing. The weather had turned raw again in preparation for the fast-approaching autumn, and though we weren’t much further north than Myron, the difference in temperature was noticeable. The scent of wood smoke stung the air.
We climbed two short steps into a small building with a simple Office sign next to the door, and entered into instant warmth. A woman behind the desk looked up, eyes wide behind gold-rimmed glasses.
“Hello,” she said.
“This is Tory. She’s my office manager,” Josiah said. “Tory, Brenna.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tory said, reaching a hand over.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said. She looked like she wanted to smile but hadn’t seen enough yet to commit.
“Sandy left early,” Tory told Josiah. “She went into town to get stuff to stock the cabin, and grab a few other things. She’ll bring it all with her to work in the morning.”
He paused, tilting his head. “So, it’s not ready?”
Tory nodded. “Pretty near. Some more notice would’ve been nice.”
She came around the desk to look me over. More a brief assessment than a critique. The way a rancher might check to see if all a bull’s parts were intact. I wasn’t offended in the slightest.
“It’ll be nice having you here. We can use another able body,” she said and sent Josiah a wink, which I thought odd, since he couldn’t see it, but dismissed it immediately when Ben came in.
I gave a chuckle, looking from her to Josiah and back. “I don’t know if I’ll be working here. I already have a job.” I said, just to clear things up.
“Oh?” Tory glanced at Josiah, then to me. “I thought…. That’s fine, then, fine. What is it you do?”
“I work at Myron Dry Cleaner.”
“I don’t think I own one thing that needs dry cleaning. Guess that’s why I’ve never seen you in town.” She walked over to a door and gestured me over. “This is storage, but it’ll make a fine guest room for the night. Bathroom’s here on the right.” She stretched inside and flipped the switch, illuminating the room, piled half way to the ceiling with boxes, trophies, plaques, and ribbons. “We can move some of these boxes—”
“She can stay with me,” Josiah announced. The room fell silent. “You can go ahead and leave, Tory.”
“Well even if she’s staying at your place, someone has to set things—”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll see she eats something, too. We’ll be okay.”
“I’m gonna head out, too,” Ben said, slapping Josiah on the back and reaching for the door. “Nice to meet you, Brenna. I left your things by the barn. See you tomorrow, Kash. When I bring Paisley by,” he finished, wiggling his eyebrows as he retreated.
“Yeah. Great,” Josiah answered.
Tory’s brows rose and she showed off her uneven teeth. “That girl’s got it bad.”
“Not funny,” he said.
“Aww, come on, she’s a sweet thing,” she said, shutting down the computer. “So she moons over you. It’s only a couple hours a week.”
He ignored her and turned toward me. “Would you mind leading me out?”
“Of course.” I took him by the arm, gave Tory a small wave, and steered him outside. “Who’s Paisley?” I asked.
“Ben’s wife’s little sister. She’s fifteen.”
“Ohhh.” I didn’t need him to say anything more. At fifteen I would have had a major crush on him, too. I had developed one myself.
“Ohhh, what?”
I giggled. “She’s a girl, you’re a … man.” I didn’t want to add extremely attractive.
“Yeah, I figured that out.”
“Well, she’s going to have a crush on you, there’s no way around it.”
He paused, looking at me, though not quite. “Is that in the teen girl handbook? Must have crush?”
“Uh huh. Hormones and You. Chapter Four, after Chapter One Introduction to Your Lady Parts…” He laughed. “Chapter Two, It’s Good, It Means You’re Not Pregnant,” I added, laughing with him. “And Chapter Three, Save Those Sweats, You’ll Need Them Again Next Month.”
He looked at me as he laughed. I mean, I thought he did—look at me, that is—but it couldn’t be. Then his mouth straightened and he stared off into the distance.
“You’re pretty funny,” he said.
“Just letting you in on a few insider secrets.”
“I could have used that handbook in school.”
“Oh, it never goes out of style. Women are always going to be girls deep down. The same way men are—”
“Don’t say it.” He looked pained, then his grimace turned to a grin. “Men are encouraged to kick that boy’s butt so he grows up. At least in my family.”
“That’s just sad,” I said. He didn’t argue. “Anyway, girls are forever checking boys out, comparing, looking for the cutest boy in school,” I giggled. “Or just in the room.” No question Josiah would be that prize, in any room.
“Sounds like you girls are desperate for attention.”
I nodded. “I guess you’d say that. I don’t know if it’s a daddy issue thing or just a girl thing. All my girlfriends felt the same way as me though.”
“And I thought guys had it bad at that age.”
“You do! I wouldn’t have traded to be a guy at fifteen, no way. Being expected to ask girls out, prove your masculinity by being better than most at fighting, or sports, or falling off horses, making the first moves on a date. No thanks.”
He gave my hand a squeeze. “On behalf of adolescent boys around the globe, your compassion is appreciated.”
Two men walked past grinning; one touched a finger to the brim of his hat.
“Cull,” Josiah called.
The man with the hat stopped, the other continued by. “Hey Kash.”
“This is a friend of mine. Brenna,” Josiah said. “She’s going to be staying in the cabin. Brenna, if you need anything, you just ask Cull. Cullen.”
“Cull.” He held out a hand. “I’ll do what I can.”
I shook it. He seemed pleasant and capable and I liked him right away. “I appreciate it.”
“Sure thing,” he said, with a friendly smile.
“Oh, there are a few things near the barn. A bike and a bag,” Josiah said. “Can you bring them to my house when you have a minute?”
“Oh, yeah, saw that stuff. I thought it was headed to the dumpster. Will do,” Cull said.
Josiah started walking again with me in tow, it seemed.
“How did you know he was there?” I asked, when we reached his front door a few seconds later.
He stopped and looked blankly into the air. “Uh…. I heard … he hums when he walks.”
“I didn’t hear humming.”
“No? I guess I’m just tuned in to it.”
I shrugged and led him inside. The first thing I noticed after the heat was that it looked nothing like I expected a ‘guy’s place’ to look. It was lovely, with coordinated gray/blue sofas, and black leather chairs. The lamps were sturdy, brushed silver, the window treatments utilitarian—I guess for keeping out the morning sun—but tasteful at the same time.
If I had to find one feminine touch, it would be the smell. Perfume lingering in the air. I’d caught a whiff of it the day Tracy had invaded the house. A little too floral for me and I’d just as soon never smell it again.
“Make yourself at home,” Josiah said, letting go of my arm and moving to the room on the left.
“Wait, don’t you need help?”
“Nah, I know this place like the back of my hand.”
Which, I hesitated
to mention, he couldn’t see. He paused, then went on slowly, hands outstretched as he passed through a dining room filled with over-sized antique furnishings capable of doing justice to the exaggerated size of the room. I followed to make sure he was all right.
“This room is enormous,” I said, taking in the glass-front, fully stocked china cabinet.
“Yeah. Needs to be big to fit a lot of people. We have holidays here.”
“Oh, your family?”
“I guess you’d say that. My crew. A lot of them have nowhere to go for the holidays, no family nearby, like me. My father and brother and his family are on the other side, of the country, so we get together here.”
Aww, sweet. Stepping into the kitchen, I was impressed again, this time with how dated the kitchen was. It didn’t fit the other rooms I’d seen, at all. Apart from the relic appliances, a few of the cabinet doors hung askew, the floor was a mess of gouged linoleum, and the light fixture over the sink…. I’d be afraid to turn it on for fear of fire.
“Help yourself to a drink of ... whatever’s in the fridge,” he said. “We can order some food up.”
“Here? You’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“There’s an Italian place just outside of nowhere,” he said. “Best meatball parm around.”
“Probably the only.”
He rubbed his chin. “That’s true. Hmm. Maybe it’s not great. Maybe my taste buds have been making do.”
I braced my hands behind me on the counter edge and watched him. Something was different. He’d lost the vulnerability I’d witnessed in him so often. Obviously, being back in his own environment had helped him feel more confident. That was it, of course.
“Whatever you want,” I said. “I’m flexible. I’m going to pay my share though.”
“You’re my guest,” he said, feeling for the refrigerator handle.
“Josiah, I’m paying.”
“You know, most people call me Kash,” he said, throwing me off.
“I know. Why?”
“It’s my last name. But with a K,” he added.
“Josiah Kash,” I said, sounding it out together. “I like it. Sounds like a rodeo champ’s name.” I remembered of all those trophies and ribbons in the store room. His, no doubt.
He grinned. It was beautiful. All those white teeth, those dark brown eyes, long lashes…. I let my gaze travel downward—he didn’t know, right?—to his muscular neck, broad shoulders, wide chest, tight stomach. I’d never had this idea—I promise, not once—but I suddenly wished he was shirtless. I swallowed and blinked, stopping my eyes from dropping any further.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Y—Yes, sure, why?”
“You’re quiet.”
“Just … checking out … your kitchen,” I said, turning away to do just that, so it wouldn’t be a complete lie. “Homey.”
He sniggered softly. “Another word for awful.”
“No, I—”
“It’s true,” he interrupted. “Calvin Wells, the original landowner, used to live here and when I bought the land, he stayed on until he died five years ago. He was ninety-seven and not much interested in updating anything. I lived in the cabin at the other end of the ranch, perfectly content, but Tory kept on me about being closer, more available, so I came back here. I’ve been working on the place a little at a time.”
For five years? “If things still work, why rush, right? You probably don’t care, being a guy.”
“Should I be insulted? Again?”
I laughed. “I’m teasing you.” There was that look again, like he was focused on me. Then his eyes skittered to the left. “You told me you’ve slept outside, even in a filthy haunted house,” I said with a smile, trying to smooth over any offense he may have taken anyway. “I imagine creature comforts aren’t all that important.”
“For some. You get used to things being rough and you’re fine with it.” He took a breath, moved his eyes over me once again. “Then you suddenly decide things have been rough long enough, and you want something better.”
I couldn’t say why or how, but the air between us changed. One second it was just … air. The next, it transformed into this invisible super highway, carrying hidden meanings and sexual tension in each molecule. It would be easy to take on the full brunt of responsibility, to accept that I was just overheating, allowing flirtation and images of him shirtless to wind me up, but it wasn’t just me.
I felt it from where he stood, and through the awkwardness of the silence hanging there. He was interested. In me. I didn’t feel threatened in any way, just surprised and confused. Was he flirting with me? When he didn’t even know what I looked like?
I cleared my throat and he held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
CHAPTER 21
Later, after Cull had brought her belongings in and leaned her bike against the porch, Brenna used my phone again to check in with her friend, Eliza. I got the concern, I did. A girl had to be careful. I was glad she was with me instead of alone in that house.
Wally’s flat face popped into my head. He might be safe enough, though you never really knew what festered inside someone. If I hadn’t been there and he had gone inside, found her in the shower…. No, what Wally had was lust. Perversion and violence drove some men. Those were other things entirely. I honestly didn’t think Wally had either in him. But other men did.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
The muscle in my jaw tightened and I looked over to see Brenna watching me from her spot on the end of the sofa. I stopped myself just before smiling at her. “Yeah, fine.”
We’d had dinner and now sat here, her looking at me, me trying not to look at her. Doing so without being seen was hard enough, harder still when not looking at her became increasingly difficult. She was prettier each time I did. Her eyes were so soft, shining with compassion, and her full lips, while looking perfectly kissable, only spoke kind words. In all the time we’d talked, she’d never spoken a bad word about anyone. I’d never met a woman like her. That had certainly never been the case with Tracy.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
She perked up instantly. “Sure.”
“I know it’s kind of strange…. Would you read to me?”
Her breath caught a little, her smile beamed. “Of course. What should I read?”
My own breath did some catching of its own as she rose, slim, taut body in a form-fitting turquoise shirt and snug jeans, passing close enough to brush against my knee. I followed her progress to the bookcase, taking in her small nose, wide mouth, and an expression of peace as she folded her arms over her nicely rounded breasts, long hair falling in damp waves over her shoulders.
I was a Christian, yes, but I noticed it all. This was a girl a man could fall head over heels for. Like, face-plant in love with. I couldn’t let that happen under the circumstances, but…. I ignored the warning bells inside telling me my feet had already been kicked out from under me and I needed to grab hold of something fast, before I did indeed land flat on my face.
Homing in on her gentle expression, despite my knowing I shouldn’t, my mind remained blank, giving her occasion to ask me again.
“Josiah? What should I read?”
“Whatever you like. There are a lot of books there.” Duh, she saw that. I rolled my eyes. “Some of them belonged to Calvin Wells.”
“Ellery Queen,” she read, bending slightly at the waist, tilting her head to read the spines. “Agatha Christie.”
“Those were his.”
“Lee Child.”
“Mine.” I leaned back in the chair for a better look at her as she perused the titles.
“Jane Austen?” she asked, tucking a length of shiny brown hair behind her ear.
“Guess.”
“Hmm.” She tapped a fingertip to her lips. “I’m going to say you.”
“And you’d be … wrong.”
She laughed. “C.S. Lewis?”
“Mine. But that’s too heav
y.”
“Okay, what would you like to read?”
“I started a book not too long ago. Didn’t get very far. We can start over, if you want.”
“Sounds great. Which is it?”
“It’s actually a book about the area. Legends of Myron County. Short stories and articles on different points of interest around here.”
She found it and slid it free, checking out the front cover. “Is that…?”
“On the cover?” I had to ask, so she didn’t know I could see her. “The Wagoner house. Yup.”
Brenna came back to the sofa to sit beside the light, turning the book over to read the back content. “B.S. Stowell.”
“That’s a relative of Ben’s,” I told her. “Grandfather, I think.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s where Ben gets his interest. He loves creepy shows, horror movies, those kinds of things. Even writes a little.”
She tilted her head again. “You don’t still believe that place is haunted….”
“No.” I now believed I was the one being personally haunted.
She was part of my experience now and would likely have become just a phantom in my mind if I had let her be. Soon enough she would have gotten on her feet and on with her destiny, apart from me, and I would have forgotten all about her. That was the way it would have happened.
Would have, but didn’t. Because I intervened, changed her destiny, I had inadvertently altered mine as well. She had already become part of my heart in a strange way, and now part of my history. She would haunt me forever.
What’s wrong with that? The words whispered against my brain. So what if I hold onto her and she’s more than a phantom? I had no answer, so looked away for as long as I could stand it. About five seconds.
Returning my gaze, I watched her lips purse as she dropped her shoes to the floor and tucked her feet up on the couch. She opened the book and began reading in a clear tone, her voice dipping and rolling, rising and falling, as the author intended. I was mesmerized. And I didn’t hear a word.
