Page 10 of The Mountain Man's Hunted Bride

None of this is nearly nice enough for her, but it will get us by until we have time to buy better.

I pause. What am I thinking? Once she’s safe from her stepfamily, she’ll want to take off and make a real life for herself. This isn’t real. This isn’t forever.

But it’s good for now.

After loading my purchases into the truck, I walk down the street and see them go into the drug store. Gerdie is typing something in her phone. Mine vibrates.

Gerdie: Going into Freddie’s for some personal items. Meet you outside.

Gray: Does Tawny own a phone?

Gerdie: No. Damn cheap ass bastard.

Gray: Do you know her favorite color and flower?

Gerdie: Lavender. Flower is Star Jasmine

Gray: Do what you need to do there but wait for me inside. I need a few minutes.

Gerdie: Roger that.

They’re just finishing up when I get to the pharmacy.

“How are you ladies doing? Ready to hit the grocery and go home?” They both nod. I’m not really surprised when they fill two baskets. Tawny starts off asking permission for every purchase until Gerdie takes charge saying, “That boy’s got nothin’ in that house that’s worth eating. Can’t believe he’s as big as he is living on boxed cereal and canned chili.

“Girl, don’t be asking him for permission. He obviously don’t know nothin’ about proper food. Just know what you want to cook and he’ll be happy. Think about trying out some of those new recipes you’ve been wanting to make.”

The absolute joy that gradually transforms Tawny’s face as the two women go aisle by aisle, talking, laughing, and comparing products, takes my breath away. At one point, Gerdie gives me the side eye as if gauging my reaction. I simply nod and she smiles back.

We’re barely out of town when they both doze off. At Gerdie’s house I do a quick walk through making sure her back door is locked and nothing is disturbed. Russett looks at me as if to say ‘I got this’. Scratching his head, I tell her to lockup after me and to call if anything comes up.

At the cabin, I carry in all the bags. Tawny insists on taking care of the groceries first. I tell her to put things away wherever they are convenient for her. Next I wipe down the dresser before moving it into the bedroom.

While she’s busy, I put the rocker on the deck until I can get it refurbished.

By the time she’s got all the clothes put away I can see her eyelids drooping. “I’ve got a few chores to do outside. I’ll be a while. Why don’t you go ahead and shower and go to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

She studies me for a long moment before she nods and heads to the bathroom.

Grabbing a cup of coffee, I go out to the porch. The cabin feels different, warmer somehow, with her in it.

Beautiful, sweet, kind, thoughtful, despite how she’s been neglected and forced to live. She still finds joy in little things, like the flat of flowers we bought for the front of the cabin.

Millard Stump was a bully when I was a kid. There were accusations then of him committing rape but the women who dared to say something suffered much more victim shaming than he did for his actions. Unfortunately, that’s still the case today in a lot of communities. Somehow it’s turned around so the rape victims always bring it on themselves.

I wait another forty minutes after I hear the shower shut off before going inside. The bedroom door is shut but I ease it open enough to see her asleep on the bed. Soundlessly, I make my way to the bathroom and shower then return to the living room, shutting the door behind me. I study the too short couch then go to my truck and retrieve my Ranger Roll. I’ve slept in worse conditions over the years.

CHAPTER 8

Tawny

Stretching, then slumping back into the pillow, I draw a deep breath. A warm woodsy scent teases my senses followed by the smell of coffee. Then memory hits and I sit upright.

I’m at Gray’s cabin and in his bed. Glancing to the side, I realize I’m alone and the other side of the bed is undisturbed. Oh my god. I took his bed without thinking.

Dressing quickly, I ease the door open. He’s sitting at the table, a laptop open in front of him and a coffee mug in one hand. He glances up and smiles. “Morning.”

“I’m sorry. I took your bed. I meant to sleep on the couch.”