Bonnie smiled. “That bodes well for me,” she replied. Her head cocked to the side, and a damp tendril of hair fell onto her cheek. “What kind of work did you do before coming here?”
“Computers,” he replied, keeping the answer short. He looked over at her. “What kind of work did you do?”
“I’m a special needs kindergarten teacher. I work primarily with autism and sensory issues,” she replied. Her eyes went soft, and she smiled as she said the words. It was obvious she loved her job. Sadness crept into her face, and the softness left her eyes. “I mean, I was.”
“Why’d you leave it?” he asked. She wrapped her arms around herself as she turned to look out her window. He wanted to smack himself upside the head. “Sorry. You had to leave because of your ex. Sorry. Stupid question.”
“It’s okay. But, yeah.” She kept her face turned toward the passenger window. “I had to quit my job. Luckily, it’s summer, so they’ll be able to fill the position before school starts.”
“I’m sorry,” he told her. He wanted to reach across the center console and squeeze her hand, but he wasn’t sure how she’d react. So he kept his hands on the wheel.
“It is what it is,” she said with a shrug. “I’m sure I’ll find something like it again.”
He hated the way her voice fell and her smile faded. He could see how much her work meant to her and how much it hurt her to leave it. She was passionate about something. He was searching for that feeling himself, so the fact that she couldn’t follow her passion made him want to murder her ex for doing this to her.
He pulled the truck up to the counselor cabin and turned off the engine before hurrying over to her door with the umbrella again. He offered her his hand to get out.
“Thank you,” she said softly as she got out of the big truck. She took his hand, sending pleasant electrical surges up his arms with her touch. She didn’t hold on once she was on the ground, though.
“Here’s the cabin,” he said, leaning the umbrella on the porch and opening up the heavy wooden door. “It’s a little sparse, but it’s
comfortable. Your room’s over here.”
He opened the first door on the right and switched on the light. It was a simple room with just a twin bed, a nightstand, and a dresser with a mirror. An Ansel Adams black and white photograph hung on the wall across from the window.
“It’s perfect,” she whispered as she stepped into the room. “Absolutely perfect.”
He set her duffle-bag on the floor by the bed as she went to the window. It was too dark to see anything except a flash of lighting silhouetting the pine trees outside. She turned and grinned at him.
“The bathroom is the third door on the left,” he explained. “You’re the only person in this cabin this week, so you’ve got the place to yourself.”
“A hot shower sounds amazing,” she told him. He noticed her shoulders relaxing and the anxiety leaving the corners of her eyes.
“There’s towels in the bathroom,” he explained. “Just put them in the bins when you’re done.”
“Thank you, Dylan.”
The way she said his name sent a thrill up his spine. He tried not to let his voice crack with the surprise of how nice it was to hear her say it.
“Here’s my phone number in case you need anything.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. It was one of the last habits of his old job that he couldn’t quite seem to kick. He loved having business cards for people to contact him. “Just in case.”
She took the card and looked it over. It was just his name on white stationery with his private phone number underneath, but she smiled like it was something special he’d given her.
“Thanks,” she said, putting it carefully on her nightstand.
He nodded and headed back out to the truck. The rain was still falling, but he didn’t care. He left the umbrella on the porch just in case she needed it again. He turned on the engine and smiled to himself as he turned to head back to his own cabin.
She was safe here.
Chapter 5
Bonnie
She tossed and turned, throwing blankets off the small bed. Her eyes fluttered behind closed lids as her brain brought images into being. Memories came back as dreams, surreal and yet so lifelike she could no longer tell if she was dreaming or awake. It was happening again.
The whole street was watching the firefighters combat the fire. She'd seen the smoke all the way from the coffee shop. She'd followed the sounds of sirens and the smell of char to find her home wreathed in flames. It was definitely the townhouse she and her younger brother shared.
And it was gone.