“Then you’d better get back to it. It’s good to hear from you.”
“Say hi to Dad for me.”
“I will. We love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I sat on the porch for a long time, the phone sitting in my lap. I was looking for someone to lean on. Cormac and Ben showed up with all this, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. Wolves were supposed to run in packs. I was supposed to have help for something like this. But I didn’t have anyone. I went back inside, back to my milk and cookies.
From the bedroom, the shower shut off. Ten minutes or so later, Cormac, hair damp and slicked back, came into the front room. He’d shaved, leaving only his familiar, trademark mustache. He was cinching on his belt and gun holster.
“I’m going to help Rosco out there with his stakeout. Do a little hunting around on my own.” The contempt in his voice was plain. He was restless; I hadn’t really expected him to stay in bed for twelve hours.
“Be careful.”
He gave me a funny look, brows raised. “Really?”
Exasperated, I sighed. “I wouldn’t want him to shoot you because he thinks you’re the bad guy.”
“Who says I’m not?”
Wincing, I rubbed my forehead. “I’m too tired to argue with you about it.”
“Get some sleep,” he said. “Take the sofa.”
“Where’ll you sleep?”
“The floor, if I decide I need it. You looked after Ben all day, I’ll keep an eye on him tonight. Take the sofa.”
This cabin was not built for three people who weren’t actually all sleeping together.
“Fine.” I’d lost a lot of sleep over the last couple of days and was tired. Before I trudged over to the sofa, I faced Cormac. “If Ben wakes up, tell me, okay? He’ll be confused, I’ll need to talk to him
.”
“I’ll wake you up. Don’t worry.”
“I can’t stop worrying. Sorry.”
“Go to sleep, Norville.” He raised his hand, started to reach out—for a moment, he seemed about to touch me. I braced for it, my heartbeat speeding up—what was he doing? But he turned around and left the cabin before anything happened.
Slowly, I sat on the sofa, then wrapped myself in the blanket. The cushions were ancient, far too squishy to be comfortable. But it wasn’t the floor, so I lay down.
This was a mistake, I thought as I fell asleep. Cormac and I staying in the same house—absolutely a mistake.
I woke up to find Cormac putting a log into the stove. I didn’t feel cold. I probably would have let the fire burn out. Outside the window, the sky was pale. It was morning again already. He closed the door to the stove, then sat back on the rug and watched the flames through the tiny grill in front.
I hadn’t moved, and he hadn’t noticed that I was awake, watching him. Shadows still darkened his eyes, and his hair had dried ruffled. He’d taken off his jacket and boots—and the gun belt. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans. His arms were pale, muscular.
Suddenly he looked over and caught my gaze staring back.
I stilled the fluttering in my stomach and tried not to react. Just stay cool.
“Is ‘Rosco’ still out there?” I said.
“Yeah. He fell asleep around two a.m. I expect he’ll wake up soon and get out of here.”
“And no dead animal on my porch?”