She’d died shortly after I joined the army, and we’d been estranged well before that. But I didn’t want to ruin the moment with facts, so I kept my mouth shut and nodded.
I reconsidered the ibuprofen. What if she had internal bleeding? It could kill her.
She peeled another slice of venison off the plate and downed it. “This is pretty good,” she said. “Did you make this?”
“I did. With help. Me and one of the old timers down at the VFW did a hunt, and then he showed me all his secrets for curing the meat. And we tanned the hide.”
“Is that what the hydrochloric acid is for? In the living room?”
“Oh, yep. It’s a real mountain man’s interior decor, huh?” My face flushed. Who keeps hide-tanning chemicals in their living room? I was an obvious bachelor, through and through.
“Sure is,” she said. She managed the last bit of jam with the last slice of cheese, and I took the empty plate off her hands. “Sorry we missed your gala.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. I can send ‘em a check and it’ll spend the same whether I go there and eat the little snacks and smile in the pictures or not. There was this diner I wanted to take you to, afterwards, for coffee and pie. Maybe we can do it another time.”
Her eyes darted to the door, and it struck me that Mia wasn’t here of her own volition, that this was a job she was doing. And she’d far overstayed what I’d requested last night.
“Listen, are you going to get in trouble for this? I can call your, um, employer, once we get down the hill, on our way to the hospital.”
She didn’t say anything, didn’t look at me. I realized I was being a fool, applying my own life to her situation. She was injured as all hell, and yet still planning to go back to work as soon as she got out of here.
And then I imagined Harvey touching her, his rough hands groping her soft, bruised body, and it sickened me to my core.
“I, uh, I have a proposition for you.”
“Help me lay down again and I’ll listen to it,” she said.
I jumped up to help her. Her voice was still thin with pain, but a bit of her old sass shined through. I supported her head and neck and lowered her down onto the nest of pillows I’d built for her.
“I want you to stay here, Mia. I’ll pay whatever it costs. Not to…you know,doanything. So you can rest. And recover. I know we got off on the wrong foot last night, but I would never hurt you. I promise. What do you say?”
I was scared to look at her, scared that I’d see nothing but disgust on her face, and my heart throbbed like one big nerve, raw and exposed and entirely in her hands.
seven
. . .
Mia
My memories kept returningto the handsome fireman who had saved my life. My mind had completely revised the night of the fire down at the club. Not a fireman at all, as it turned out. It came back to me slowly; my brain reconciled those strong arms with these.
I’d even blanked the scrap of paper I found afterwards, with his phone number, asking me to call him.
Marmot. The sheriff.
I didn’t know what he was after at the time. Evidence, I’d assumed. Testimony against Harvey.
Certainly not adate.
It had been one of the few moments in my professional life at Harvey’s club that I’d been treated like a person. That much stood out clearly in my mind. I remembered coming to in his arms. He’d set me down gently, checked my vital signs. Told me everything was going to be okay.
And I’d believed him in that disoriented moment.
I’d tossed the telephone number and forgotten all about it in the chaos that followed the club fire. I’d never connectedthe man who rescued me with the billionaire sheriff in the newspaper.
Could I stay?
He looked so damn scared right now. If I wasn’t hurting to high heaven, I’d reach out and put a hand on his arm. Try and comfort the man, the way he had comforted me.
