Page 13 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“Oh my god.” I was going to faint, and if not for the fear of touching the floor, I would have. I had walked right into my own personal hell. Prison inmates were given better accommodations than this. I didn’t know whether to start laughing or crying.
In a nightmare flash, I pictured myself in six months, wearing the same clothes I was in now. My hair had become ratted in dreadlocks and I had befriended the mouse that came in and out through the gaping holes in the dirty floorboards to share my moldy bread.
“I can’t stay here,” I repeated, my voice cracking.
Beau grumbled something before running a hand over his beard. “Let’s get some shut-eye and worry about the place in the morning.”
I didn’t care that he sounded annoyed. I’d dealt with a lot today and wasn’t going to try and hide my objection to living in this hovel. There was only so much this girl could put up with before she broke.
Tears filled my eyes and I looked over my shoulder to the truck. If I begged and pleaded, would he take me back to town?
Probably not.
“Listen.” Beau’s tone softened. “I know this isn’t your thing. Tonight will be the worst. I promise tomorrow we’ll get it all cleaned up and livable. Just think of it like camping for one night. Haven’t you ever been camping before?”
I shook my head. The closest thing to camping I’d ever done was a stay at a beach cottage on the Oregon coast.
“Camping is fun.” His smile held actual magical powers. One flash of those pearly whites and the angry bees swarming in my stomach returned to their hive. Beau should model for Colgate. He’d sell more toothpaste than Michael Phelps sold Wheaties.
I can do this. I took a breath. Then another. Don’t be a baby, Sabrina. “Okay,” I whispered. My head and shoulders fell as another wave of exhaustion crashed against my battered body.
“Hey.
” He crossed the distance between us. My eyes stayed on our feet. His brown boots looked at least twice the size of my size eights. With a finger hooked under my chin, he tipped my head back so my green eyes were locked on his stormy blues. “I wouldn’t have suggested this place if I didn’t think you could cut it. You took on the mob. A cabin in the woods will feel like child’s play.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
His finger left my chin to slide a lock of fallen hair off my forehead. “Oh, I think I’ve got a pretty good read on you.”
My pulse quickened and my chest swelled, the wrap around my cracked ribs compressing even more tightly. When his hand dropped, I wasn’t sure if my sigh was from relief or disappointment. My life was such a cluster right now. Starting something with Beau was the epitome of stupid, but damn, his fingers had felt good against my face. And that spark in his eyes was a beacon calling to my soul. Telling me to dock my fucked-up ship in his port and he’d make sure it didn’t sink.
He took a step back, clearing his throat and breaking our stare. “I’ll start unloading supplies.”
Right. Time to move into my new home.
“I can help.” I spun to follow him out the door but he held up a hand.
“I’ve got it. Take a load off that ankle.”
Beau disappeared to the bed of the truck while Boone bounded out and ran inside. The hound plopped down next to the chair and I hesitantly followed. Doing my best to clear the dust from the seat, I eased onto the log chair.
“Not as uncomfortable as I’d thought, Boone.” Lovely. I was talking to the dog now. “This doesn’t mean I like you.”
Boone dropped his head to his paws and ignored me as he watched his master bring in load after load, setting bags, coolers and boxes on the dirty floor.
When the truck was unloaded, Beau worked with efficiency to start a fire in the stove. “The heat is set pretty low, just enough to keep the water pipes from freezing. I’ll get it all checked out in the morning and we can crank it up. For tonight, this will have to do. Hope you can sleep with the light and noise from the fire.”
“Sure.” I doubted I’d get much rest anyway. Between my aches and anxiety over the new location, I was in for a fitful night’s rest.
“Let me make sure this won’t smoke us out and then I’ll set up your cot.”
I watched him quietly, listening to the cracks and pops from the fire. It was the first time I’d ever been around a real wood-burning fire. The only fireplaces I’d ever seen were run by gas and fake logs. The smell of smoke and burning wood filled the outpost and chased away the must.
“So what do you use this place for anyway?” I asked. “Besides hiding reporters who are on the run from gun smugglers.”
He grinned and tossed another log on the fire. “These were set up mostly for forest fire crews. Biologists sometimes use them if they’re doing field study. If there are public access trails, crews will use these while they do trail maintenance. Actually, there are outposts like this scattered throughout the mountains. The government built a bunch of them in the seventies, ran power lines and dug each one a well, so they’re pretty self-sufficient.”
“Is there a chance we’ll get unexpected visitors?”
