She nodded and moved toward the house. An odd feeling hit her as she walked out of the sunny, pleasantly cool daylight and into the almost hauntingly empty cabin. It wasn’t exactly dark inside, since the cabin was well-lit and had plenty of windows to let in the sunlight and the mountain views. But it somehow felt dim and lonely to her as her eyes were drawn to the computer sitting on the coffee table, animated fish swimming lifelessly across the screen.
Setting the bowl and plate in the sink, she crossed her arms over her chest, chilled now in a way she hadn?
?t been while out in the sun with Casey.
An hour later, Casey was moving furniture off the deck when the back door opened and Natalie stepped out. She carried an insulated, stainless-steel mug and her expression was oddly guarded. Almost as if she were nervous about something.“I made a fresh pot of coffee,” she said when he turned to look at her. “Would you like a cup?”
He had just opened a bottle of water, but he could drink that later. “Sure,” he said, pleased that she’d made the gesture. “That sounds good, thanks.”
She handed him the mug, then glanced around the deck, from which he’d already removed the Adirondack chairs and the matching end table that sat between them. He still had to move a wrought-iron umbrella table and the four iron spring chairs surrounding it, and a couple of large planters that sat on wrought iron bases to protect the decking. A wooden swing hung on chains at the far end of the deck. That, too, would need a coat of waterproofing sealant.
“Where are you putting the furniture?”
Carefully swallowing a sip of the hot coffee, he lowered the mug to answer. “At the end of the cabin, on the concrete slab with the grill and the picnic table.”
“Could you use some help moving the rest of it? I’d like to do something useful since Aunt Jewel and Uncle Mack have been so generous letting me stay here.”
He made an effort to hide his surprise. “I won’t turn down an offer to help. But you’re sure there isn’t something you’d rather be doing? It’s such a beautiful day.”
She glanced around as if she’d barely noticed. “I have nothing else to do,” she said.
Just the hint of dejection in her voice made his heart soften. What was it about Natalie Lofton that reminded him a little bit of the stray dog they had just fed? Isolated, wary, maybe mistreated at some point, but still with an undeniable air of quiet dignity?
Suspecting that she wouldn’t appreciate that analogy at all—would more likely hate it, in fact—he kept it to himself. Setting the coffee mug on the wide deck railing, he nodded toward the wrought iron dining set. “We can start moving the chairs.”
She turned in that direction. Casey reached out to detain her. “Do you have a pair of work gloves?” he asked, glancing down at her soft-looking hands. “You don’t want to risk blisters.”
“I have driving gloves. And some knit gloves designed for warmth.”
“Either would be better than nothing.”
“Then I’ll be right back. Is there anything else we need from inside?”
“No.” He took hold of the first chair. “I’ll take this one down.”
He was returning from that short trip when he met up with Natalie again. Her hands protected by leather driving gloves, she lugged one of the chairs, hindered more by its awkward shape than by weight. He almost offered to help her, but something about the way she looked at him warned him that she’d rather do it herself.
He both understood and respected pride. Nodding, he moved past her to get the third chair. They would carry the table together, he decided. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten it down the steps by himself. But because of his own slightly overdeveloped ego, he probably wouldn’t have asked for her help had she not offered.
They worked together for the next two hours, removing the remainder of the furnishings and then cleaning the deck with brooms and a small power washer Casey had brought with him. They didn’t talk much, but the quiet was companionable. The sounds of singing birds and rushing water and dried leaves blowing across the ground provided a sound track for their efforts.
Though he didn’t allow himself to stare openly at her, Casey observed Natalie surreptitiously as she worked. He was pleased to see a tint of color in her cheeks, a new sparkle of accomplishment in her eyes. She liked having a purpose, he decided, something that made her feel useful. And the crisp, fresh air wasn’t hurting either, since she’d been spending entirely too much time holed up in the cabin, from what he had observed.
“That looks good,” he announced a short while later as he and Natalie stood back to admire their work. “Tomorrow morning I’ll apply the sealer. We can replace the furniture in twenty-four to forty-eight hours after that, according to the instructions on the can.”
“There’s a lot of maintenance involved with these cabins, isn’t there? It’s mind-boggling how much hard work is involved in being a vacation landlord.”
“Yeah. Kyle and Mack both put in long days, especially now that their full-time maintenance guy’s on the bench. And your aunt stays busy with the books and reservations.”
Still looking at the empty deck, Natalie murmured, “Tommy used to complain that his family lived in a vacation destination and never had time to actually take a holiday themselves. I didn’t understand when I was a kid, but I certainly do now.”
Casey studied her face, regretting that he saw shadows of sadness in her eyes again. “Kyle’s talked about your cousin. It sounds as if he was a great guy.”
“He was.”
Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned, thinking maybe the stray dog had come back for dinner. Instead, he saw a small herd of deer wander out of the woods, grazing on the grass of the lawn. He counted three full-grown does and another that might have been a young buck.
“Natalie,” he said softly, nodding in that direction. “Look.”