Taking the job was the best solution for now. Having a plan didn’t stop the fear, but at least her hands stopped shaking.
Dee draped Jacob’s extra coat over her arm and struggled to her feet, hoping her wooziness had fled for good. The mere thought of ammonia made her want to gag. “Okay, Mr. Stone. Point me to the mop and bucket so I can get to work.”
“It’s Jacob. And you should change first.” His gaze lingered a second too long on her dress.
She yanked her coat closed, unsure if she should bristle at his order. The guy did have a way of taking charge. She reminded herself not to be a temperamental ingrate. “Which rooms should I start with?”
He leaned on his shovel as if trying to decide whether to push the clothing issue further. Blowing snow hovered around his booted feet as he shifted his gaze to the truck sweeping through the parking lot. He stuffed the shovel into a drift. “Come on inside, and I’ll get you set up.”
Dee started up the steps. “How many rooms will you need cleaned if the tour bus shows?”
When he didn’t answer, she pivoted at the door. Jacob knelt at the base of the porch, scooping his fingers through snow. How odd. But she didn’t dare rush him.
Jacob shaped the handful and arced his arm back. He let the snowball fly, nailing the truck’s hood. The Ford kept rumbling forward. He packed together a second missile and thudded the back window. The truck stopped.
The driver’s-side window rolled down and a teenage face poked out, a face with a hefty addiction to eyeliner. “Yeah, bro? Did I miss someplace?”
“Park it, Emily. School’s canceled. Build a snowman or something.” He blew into his cupped hands, wincing as he moved the arm that had been in a sling earlier.
“I’m almost through here.” Wind streaked her wheat-blond ponytail, revealing the crimson strip dyed through.
“You’re done now.”
“Sure, Jacob. Whatever.” She rolled up the window, kicked the truck in gear and proceeded to plow the next row.
Jacob lobbed another snowball into the retreating truck bed. “Damn fool girl.”
“Her or me?” Dee couldn’t resist mumbling.
He either didn’t hear or chose to ignore the comment. Jacob stomped his feet as he turned. “Let’s get your supplies. Only one room needs cleaning. We can test you on that. The rest only need light touch-ups, some dusting and airing.”
As they walked inside, he rambled off a list of tasks. She registered his clipped phrases, all the while absorbing details around her to fill the terrifying emptiness within. She glanced at the framed buffalo prints over the fireplace. A faded map of Washington spread above a brochure rack. The scary ache didn’t even begin to fade.
Jacob Stone was the only person she could remember speaking to since waking, a strangely quiet man who took in stray amnesiacs and worried about his teenage sister on the road.
He and that young girl were the only people she’d seen face-to-face. Years of experiences with others had been lost, shrouded by an impenetrable fog. It was enough to make a person crazy.
If she wasn’t already.
He stared through his windshield at the lodge with her inside.
She’d been in and out of sight most of the morning. He couldn’t take his eyes off the shape of her, especially when the wind plastered her clothes into a tighter fit like now as she ducked into another room. Heat from the vents didn’t come close to the temperature pumping through him.
Want and hate, both hot, pumped through him.
Women screwed up everything. They always wanted more, more, more from a guy. She was just like the rest in the end. She was the messed up one, not him.
So what if he watched her through binoculars while parked on a side road? That didn’t make him a perv since she belonged to him anyway. Yeah, she still fascinated him even though he’d already had her.
He hated that about her, the way she had a hold over him. There were times he thought he would do anything to get rid of her. Then she drew him in again with her smile, her laugh, her touch.
Claustrophobia filled the vehicle in gusts as thick as the exhaust puffing from the tailpipe. He should just go. Somebody might see him lurking around. He could come up with an excuse, but it would seem weird. More than ever he needed to appear blameless.
Things would look bad enough when he got rid of her for good.
Chapter 3
D ee attacked the tub with a rag.