Cady tugged me down the hall. “Something smells really yummy.”
My brow furrowed. It did smell delicious. I came to a stop just outside the kitchen. The table was set, and each place had some sort of amazing scramble, fruit, and toast.
“YUM!” Cady shouted, hopping over to her chair.
“You made breakfast,” I said, my nose stinging.
Roan shrugged. “You need more than sugary cereal to keep up your energy for the day.”
When was the last time someone had made me breakfast? It was probably Autumn. Tears gathered as I tried to shove them down.
Roan was in my space in a flash. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
I swallowed down the emotion clogging my throat. “No one has taken care of me in a long time.”
His expression softened as his hands cupped my face. “Tender Heart.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I’d do anything for you.”
Everything burned in the best kind of way.
“Stop acting funny and eat,” Cady said around a mouthful of food. “It’s gonna get cold.”
That startled a laugh out of me, and I grinned. “She’s right. Can’t waste this amazing meal.”
And amazing it was. We stuffed ourselves silly as we laughed and talked. Roan insisted that he would be driving us to and from work and school. He’d cleared the part-time schedule with his boss. Apparently, he had so much vacation time he could leave the country for two months and still be fine.
As we made the drive into town, warmth spread through me. Having someone to do the little things with, like dropping Cady off, made everything just a little sweeter.
Roan turned into the school parking lot. “Ready to knock ‘em dead, Tiny Dancer?”
“Duh!” she shot back.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He pulled up in the drop-off line and hopped out. I followed, nerves pricking me. I was sure word about my real identity had made the rounds to a good chunk of the town by now.
I tried to focus on Cady as she told us all about her and Charlie’s plans for the day while Roan got her out of her booster seat.
Movement caught my attention, and I looked up. Katelyn flounced toward the school, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder and glaring in our direction.
It was a dumb move. Because if anyone could glare, it was Roan. His head lifted as if he sensed her look, and the stare he leveled on her would’ve made me piss my pants.
Katelyn tripped over her feet, quickly righting herself and hurrying inside.
I snorted. “At least I don’t have to listen to her anymore.”
Roan grunted and then crouched low. “I want you to stick close to Charlie today. If Heather or those other girls pick on you, just pretend you can’t hear them. It’ll drive them crazy.”
Cady smiled and threw her arms around Roan. “Thanks, Mr. Grizz.”
The urge to cry was fast and strong, but I forced it down. Cady released him, hugged me, and then ran for the school.
I looked up into Roan’s beautiful eyes. “You’re a good man. The best man I’ve ever known. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”
33
ROAN
Aspen’s words had echoed in my head all day. “You’re a good man. The best man I’ve ever known. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”
My throat worked as I swallowed, trying to clear the ache there. It was impossible because that ache was everywhere. A pain that only came from coming back to life.
How long had I kept it all turned off—every heightened emotion and feeling? It had helped keep out the bad, but also locked out the good. Until Aspen.
She’d changed everything before I’d even known her name. Those little glimmers of hope and light as I watched her from my cabin perch. As I saw her kindness play out in front of me.
I turned into the police station parking lot. It was more crowded than normal. There were a couple of county sheriff vehicles, Fish and Wildlife, and Forest Service. Seemed Lawson had called everyone in for a meeting of the minds.
I snagged a parking spot in the back corner and headed around front. As I opened the door, the officer behind the desk looked up. “They’re in the conference room.”
“Thanks,” I said with a nod.
The shock on his face was blatant. I cringed. How much of an ass had I been over the years that a simple thanks warranted a dropped jaw and wide eyes?
A varied group milled around the conference room. Groups weren’t my favorite thing. There was a reason I’d chosen to live most of my life in the wilderness. But I didn’t have a choice.