THE PROMISE of continued conversation loomed out of reach. By early evening, Brett had squirreled through both fridges, the deep freezer, and the pantry to find suitable foods for the Mansouris, but gave up hope of ever entering his kitchen after Peggy, Claire, and pink-clad Windy commandeered his counter space.
His back muscles ached from chopping additional firewood, and he could do with a soak in the tub. His fellow woodchoppers eased onto the couch with heavy sighs. By the time Lance returned from organizing the Mansouris in the cabin, the large house smelled of chicken stew and some kind of sweet dessert, roared with conversation, and showed no sign of Jada.
He suffered a few minutes engaging the other guests before he wandered down the side hall toward the five bedrooms. Quieter. Only one of the three guestrooms was closed. A snap of linen echoed from an open door.
At the far end of the previous owner’s newer additions, Brett peeked into the last room and found Jada working a sheet onto the queen-sized bed in slow and patient motions. Hair pinned in a sloppy loop on top of her head, her half-sleeve sweater covered to mid-thigh over faded jeans.
He leaned against the doorframe. “Hey.”
She turned with a start, then laughed it off. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear anyone coming down the hall.” She ran her hands along her hips and shrugged, then gestured to the bed. “There weren’t any…”
“I don’t keep them made up. No one ever comes here.”
Her curious smirk made him stare for an extra second.
Clearing his throat, he straightened and raised his foot to take a step into the room, but detoured to the door to rest his back against it and cross his arms. “I’ve been here fifteen months. From Ohio. I took a job at the West Montana Hospital running the outpatient clinic. Aside from my parents blowing through for a weekend, Lance is my first visitor.”
Her face turned thoughtful. He waited for her to process his hemorrhage of information while he regretted babbling on. She didn’t need to hear his life story in a single breath.
Introspective face still turning thoughts over, she reached for a pillowcase on the chair behind her, and snapped it open. “This is a lot of space for a single man. Family back home?”
“No. You?”
She smiled and turned away to grab a pillow. “No.”
“Where are you from?”
Her gaze flitted his way, not catching his eye. “Seattle. My sister moved last year, too. To Havre. She’s thirty years old in a class full of nineteen-year-olds, but having the time of her life. It’s just us. We’re our only family.”
“I’m sorry to hear.” He dropped his arms and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Maybe she can come for you when the road’s cleared since your car will take a while. Internet works if you need to tell her you’re stuck.”
“Already have. Sent an email. You really shouldn’t leave your laptop out with so many strangers in the house.” Her pointed look of warning still held humor. “I thought I’d make sure we all have a place to sleep tonight. This room is for the men. I figure men on one side of the hall, women on the other. Easy not to get confused.” She smiled. After tossing the clothed pillow onto the bed, she gave him his favorite narrow-eyed look. “Why the big house if no family?”
“I have a dream.”
“Do tell, Doctor King.”
It took a second for him to catch her meaning. She’d started on a second pillow, and though he wanted to share his desire on what he’d do with this land, he decided he wanted something first. “You can find out after you tell me your last name.”
“Holding information hostage. You learn fast.”
He laughed. “Hang out with me, you’ll find I love to learn.”
“All that learning didn’t teach you not to be bossy?”
Somehow, he’d wandered into the room, hands resting in his back pockets, his penchant to learn at its peak. Love to learn all about her, is where he was headed. “Can’t take an order? Have an aversion to authority?”
“I’m a clerk with the Seattle police, I’ll have you know. Maybe the problem is you.”
He rubbed a hand over his head. “I don’t think so. This is my house and I can’t even get into my own kitchen. Thanks for starting dinner, by the way.”
“No problem. And yeah, Windy and Claire kicked me out as soon as they arrived.” A wisp of hair fell when she shook her head, giving him a tiny smile. “But all the better for me. I got to shower and take a nap. Say, you must be exhausted. I got this. You can go rest if you want.” Her eyes left him as she dressed another pillow. “I can’t believe you took us all in. You’re incredible.” She plumped and tossed the pillow, turning to him, her smile fading under his gaze.
A moment sealed them in a vacuum of stillness before he found speech. “Lance and I were going to clear out the cabin for him to live in. We were already prepared for a hardworking day.”
His voice had come out too quiet for a normal conversation. The room followed suit, save the homey laughter and conversations billowing from the kitchen and den. He didn’t know why they surrendered to the sudden pause, but didn’t want to break it. Now-familiar dark eyes stared at him. Into him. Bare lips gave a small smile before Jada turned away, a hand scratching behind her ear as she stared down at the chair as if to consider what to prepare next, when only the cover remained.
Unfolding the spread, she moved closer to stand at the foot, and waved the sheet open. “So…Lance is here for how long?”
“Indefinite.” He moved where he knew he’d stay in her peripheral vision.
“Oh? What’s the occasion?”
“Can’t tell you.”
Her eyes stayed glued to the bedspread while his pulse raced copious amounts of blood through his system. The magnet that was his entire being begged him to stand next to her, while only respect and manners held him where he stood. If they were familiar, he’d reach out and curl his palm around her cheek and neck, tilt her head to stare into those bottomless eyes all night. Was she feeling this? She had to be feeling this.
“Keeping secrets, bossy?”
Her light humor not lost on him, he moved further up the side of the bed to stay in her line of sight. He wouldn’t let her cut the tension between them. “Ties back to my dream. I believe you pay a toll if you want to hear that information.”
Lips twisted like she tried to hide a smile. “Bossy and demanding. You need to work on those.”
“First chance I get.”
Those lips curled inward before she straightened the covers at the foot, then she moved up the opposite side. “My sister wants me to move out there. Tough decision. I don’t know if I can do what the two of you did. All my life I wanted roots, now I have them. I like my job, love my church. I’m worried I won’t find anything as comfortable.”
“Comfort is stifling.”
Her lips tightened as if she wanted to refute his statement.
“I learned not to stay put out of comfort. You never know what good thing is around the corner. There’s a great church I’m getting used to out here. I’m sure you’d adapt.”
Quiet closed in again. Jada bounced on the balls of her feet while he secretly wiggled his toes. He didn’t just offer an invitation to join his church. He’d meant she’d adapt to change if she moved in with her sister. The more that time dragged on, the more awkward it became to explain his words.
An invitation to church. That’s how it had all started with Christina. To this day he didn’t know if she pretended for his sake, or if she was serious about a godly commitment. Either way, she made a mistake. The worst part was deflecting blame to him when she tried to cover it up. He never considered her to be a mean person, just misguided and not ready for a relationship. She certainly wouldn’t be making up a stranger’s bed.
His gaze dropped to Jada’s hands in their task. She’d sure made herself at home; starting a lunch, making up the beds—although that was a chore he’d told Lance to do. But Brett was intrigued that she took it upon herself to make sure everybody
had a place to sleep.
Despite his desire to stay, Jada was one of a houseful of strangers to accommodate, all of whom had families and destinations to notify. He needed to make sure everyone had access to do so. And Jada already took care of contacting her sister.
“Wait. Did you say you’re traveling from Seattle to Montana State University Northern? In Havre?” His face must have looked as confused as he sounded.
“Yep.” Leaving the top end of the bed half made, she looked at him. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“How did you end up here?”
“Trick question?” She pointed at the window.
“The next town is Drummond.”
“I don’t remember seeing that on my map.”
“You wouldn’t. Not if you’re traveling from Seattle to Havre.”
Her eyebrows wrinkled. “Run that by me again?”
“You don’t use GPS?”
Her face went slack. “Are you telling me I’m lost?”
He smiled. “I know exactly where you are, Miss…?”
There were those lovely slit eyes. “Nice try.” The eyes instantly widened. “Are you serious, though? I’m lost? Where am I?”
“Red Main.”
“Redman?”
“Main”
“Red—. Red Main? Who gets lost in Red Main? Where is Red Main? How far off course am I?”
“You missed the fork in the road about forty-five minutes back.”
“Aahhhh.” Her head fell back to tilt toward the ceiling. “The weather started getting heavy around that time. I paid more attention to the road than the signs.”
“Usually good at reading the signs, are you?” He hoped his steady stare told her the direction he was taking.
“Usually.” She glanced at him, did a double-take. “Yeah.”
He chuckled and nodded, stared a second longer than normal before starting out of the room to shower after the sweaty day. “Good. That’s all I need to know.”