But that was one of the things my mother had taught me that I’d held onto. How to repurpose broken things or stuff others had thrown away. How to make the old new again. She’d also taught me how to live from the land. What things grew heartily here, and what needed the protection of a greenhouse.
I peeked through the large front window at the glass building that had lost many of its panes to winter storms. Those would be a challenge to replace. I added it to my mental list as my gaze shifted past the greenhouse to a green metal roof.
The one I’d told the sheriff about all those years ago. The structure where a little girl had pounded on the door, begging to be set free. I gave my head a little shake. Of course, it hadn’t been one of the things the storm took down. It would’ve been easier if it had.
I turned away from the window and refocused on my sweeping. I brushed the bristles of my broom across the wide planks of the floor and then moved into the open closet. I let out a high-pitched squeal as a furry critter shot out of the dark space. My hand flew to my chest as my heart hammered against my ribs. “Not a monster, just a little…” Chipmunk?
The knowledge startled a laugh out of me. I’d almost lost it over possibly the cutest and least intimidating creature on this mountain. And now I could see that he was limping. He made his way over to the corner, shaking. “I’m sorry, little guy. I think we scared each other.”
I moved towards the kitchen that opened to the larger living and dining areas. Pawing through the totes of groceries I’d brought and still hadn’t put away, I found a bag of almonds. I picked out a handful of nuts and crossed back to within just a few feet of the little critter.
I sat on the floor and tossed out an almond so it was just a couple of inches in front of him. The chipmunk eyed me carefully and then slowly reached for the nut, shoving it into his cheek.
“Want another one?” I repeated the action but dropped it just a little closer to me, trying to check the critter’s movement.
He scurried forward with that same gimp and grabbed another one, stuffing it into his other cheek.
“Those chubby little cheeks are pretty dang cute. Bet you’ve been hungry living in that closet.”
I held out another almond, this time placing it flat on my palm. The chipmunk looked at me as if I were crazy.
“I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
We stayed in a silent standoff for a moment, and then Chip made a lopsided dash forward, grabbed the nut, and ran away to his corner.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I dumped the rest of the nuts onto the floor and rose to open the door. “You can have those.”
It was official. I was losing it. Talking to a chipmunk as if he could understand every word that came out of my mouth.
Well, it would likely be a pretty lonely existence living in Wolf Gap. I needed all of the friends I could get—even if one of them was a chipmunk.
I returned to my sweeping, and Chip devoured his feast. My broom grabbed something that I realized was Chip’s nest. I crossed back to the kitchen and snagged a pair of gloves, pulling them on. I ducked into the closet and found the nest. Guilt clawed at me for disrupting the little guy’s home. I didn’t think he would do well outside; he moved too slowly and would likely get snapped up by something larger.
I searched the room for any sort of answer. The old built-ins on the opposite side of the living space seemed like as good an idea as any. I opened one of the bottom cabinets and carefully set the nest inside. Three nuts fell out as I did so.
“Apparently, you’re not so hard up for food.”
Chip hopped and scampered inside, his new bounty stuffed in his cheeks.
Just as he did, the sound of tires crunching on gravel filled the empty room. My heart gave a healthy lurch, and I moved to the corner where I’d placed my gun safe. I plugged in the code and pulled out my shotgun. If my family was making an appearance already, I was in for a battle.
I stood to the side of the large window, angling myself so I was protected but also had a view of whoever was coming. I caught sight of the lights fixed to the top of an SUV, then the sheriff’s star. I wasn’t sure if the vehicle made me more or less nervous. But at least I knew I didn’t need my gun.
I placed it back in the safe and tried my best to brush the dust off my clothes. It was a lost cause. Crossing to the entryway, I pushed open the screen door as a sheriff’s department SUV came to a stop in front of the cabin. I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat as a man climbed out.
He was younger than I’d expected. Dark hair and broad shoulders. Thick scruff gracing his jaw. But it was the eyes that stole my breath. Not because of how gorgeous they were but because they were familiar. The same pair that had haunted my dreams for the past fifteen years. Ones that still held fierceness but also untold pain.
I grabbed hold of the porch rail to keep myself upright, and the man who I’d only ever known as a boy circled his SUV. He tipped his head in greeting. “Afternoon, ma’am. I’m Sheriff Easton. I heard we had a new resident and wanted to introduce myself.”
He wasn’t simply an officer or a deputy, he was the sheriff. And Hayes Easton didn’t remember me at all. I cleared my throat. “Hello, Sheriff. I’m Everly Kemper.”
He froze, his foot halfway to the bottom step of my porch. “Everly.”
I nodded. “I know, it’s been a long time.”
His parents had protected him from the trial, but my uncle had demanded that Mom, Ian, and I go. He said the jury needed to see that Dad had family. Support. So, I’d been forced to hear every argument and detail, to watch as my dad lost it during closing arguments, yelling about evil and righteousness.
But Hayes hadn’t been there. He’d only come one day with his older brother. They’d attended the verdict reading. I’d watched as his mother kept a protective arm around him the entire time. How his father had ruffled his hair and tried to cut the tension with a joke. And his eyes had called out to me, so serious and full of pain.