Rain (Stranger in the Woods Book 1) Read online

  The rocking chair keeps with its soothing movement. I take hold of Gunner’s hand. “You bought votes with chocolate bars, not fair.”

  He kisses my hand. “You tried to refuse half my paycheck. I had no choice.”

  My cheek affectionately rubs his shoulder. “Because I knew how much you wanted to attend the Folk School for your wood work.”

  Brass Town, North Carolina may be tiny, but we have a great art school, and it was all Gunner wanted. He’s truly gifted at creating anything from a simple piece of wood, but when my mama became too ill to work and the money from the sale of the horses was gone, she could only lie in bed and hope to survive. Everything else fell to me: cooking, cleaning, raising Louisa and Wade.

  “My little fighter gave me hell. Didn’t ya?” Gunner squeezes me. I had even tried to withdraw myself from high school so I could get a job, but since this is a small town and everyone knows everybody, Gunner had beat me to the punch.

  “You cheated by talking to the school counselor.” The woman had refused to accept my withdrawal form and told me to go home and appreciate Gunner. That night, Gunner showed up with groceries—ignoring me as I told him no—and handed Louisa and Wade each a chocolate bar.

  Louisa had chocolate all over her lips as she pleaded with me. “Let Gunner help us, Rosie.”

  Gunner grinned as he put the last of the groceries in the fridge. “Yeah, Rosie.”

  Louisa jumped into his arms. He squeezed, closing his eyes. Gunner reached in his pocket, whispered to Louisa, handed her something, then grinned at me again. He carried her over to me as she smirked and held out her closed fist. Reluctantly, I exposed my palm. Cash dropped into it. My shoulders slumped in shame. Her little voice repeated his instructions. “Gunner says don’t be a pain in his—”

  My eyes popped wide. Gunner looked just as surprised as me. Still in Gunner’s arms, Lulu giggled as she covered her mouth. “Hiney.”

  My thankful, watery eyes looked up at him. He would never whisper a cuss word to her, nor would he let us fall. Still holding Lulu, Gunner pulled my face to his, kissing my forehead. “I love you, girl.”

  Wade—sitting at the kitchen table—licked his sticky fingers. “I love you, Gunner. Best chocolate ever.” That little terror always behaves for Gunner.

  So here I am again, on my back porch, leaning and counting on Gunner Hayes, wiping my tears, needing to ask even more of him. “I have a shift next Friday night—”

  “I can watch Lulu and Wade. The least I can do. You won’t let me give you money anymore.” I made him stop once I graduated. I immediately got a job to take weight off his kind, loving shoulders. I mostly work while Wade and Louisa are in school or ask Shelly to babysit, but next Friday, we are both on the floor.

  With his darker brown hair and the warmest, lightest brown eyes ever, Gunner is handsome, I suppose. At least, that’s what Shelly, one of my oldest friends, who waitresses at the diner, says. She also says Gunner is in love with me. I tell her how Gunner and I are just best friends. Shelly’s beautiful red curls bounce when she laughs. “He wants to be your best lover.”

  I don’t think that’s the case. Gunner has never made a move on me—not even one kiss.

  Chapter Two

  The first thing I hear is Sam’s nails pacing up and down the hallway—click, click, click— on the wooden floors, up and down the stairs and in and out of all the bedrooms. Lying on my belly, staring at my open bedroom door, I realize morning came too quickly. I could use another three hours of sleep. “What is it, Sam?” He whimpers and keeps intensely sniffing, so I sit up, moving to the edge of my bed, preparing to investigate. But the house is quiet. Nothing stirs, not even inside of me, which is unusual. I freely inhale through a wonderful feeling of comfort exuding from my body, from my soul. I sit still, trying to understand this foreign peace until Sam, my golden retriever fur-ball, sits in front of me with his tongue hanging as if smiling. “Time to start my day, big guy?”

  He sits up on his hind legs, front paws hanging, waiting for attention I offer willingly. Then my morning routine goes into high gear. Opening Louisa and Wade’s curtains, I sing, “Wake up, you two. Don’t be late for the bus.”

  Walking into my mom’s room, I’m shocked to see her alert, eyes open. I rush to her bed. “Mama?”

  She is a delicate shade of green. Normally, her skin’s a sickly dark. “Hi, Rosie.”

  I touch her forehead. “Still a fever but, you look… good.” Good is a stretch, but there is a little life to her skin that I haven’t seen in over a year. My heart breathes a sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, she will win this battle. I want to stare at her and this small miracle, but I have cereal bowls to fill.

  My week passes in the usual blur, and Friday night is already here. Tying on my apron while chasing Wade Junior is proving to be quite the task. Stubbing my toe, I’m about to lose my mind with Louisa screaming in the background. I reach for Wade—again—but miss—again. “Junior! Stop ripping that doll’s head off!”

  The front door opens, and Gunner steps in. He evaluates the room in a heartbeat and grabs the blond, guilty seven-year-old running past him. Wade tries to get free but quits when Gunner’s voice lowers even more than usual. “Wade.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  I stop dead in my tracks, toe throbbing. “Gunner, please teach me how to do that.”

  He grabs Wade’s chin and affectionately shakes it. “I was once this eager child.”

  I exhale a “Thank you,” thinking eager is a bit mild, seeing how I’ve already broken a sweat, and I’m not even at work yet. On my tippy toes, I go to kiss Gunner’s cheek, but when he turns to say, “You’re welcome,” my mouth unexpectedly presses to his. I freeze mid-kiss and see his golden-brown eyes widen.

  I pull my embarrassed lips from his. “Oh—I—uh, I’m sorry.”

  Wade takes advantage of the moment and runs off to annoy his sister. Again.

  “No—I—uh. No, it’s okay, really.” Gunner struggles for words, but when Lulu is screaming for her doll, Gunner snaps his attention from me and back to Junior. “Wade! Doll. Now.”

  Wade sulks, walking to Louisa. “Fine! Here.” He hands over the goods.

  “And the head.” Gunner points to what Wade’s hiding. Junior pouts in defeat as he pulls his other hand out from behind his back, handing over the plastic doll head with loopy eyeballs.

  After pushing mutilated parts back together, Lulu rocks the horrid doll as if it were full of emotions instead of the stuffing protruding from the violent neck injury.

  Still embarrassed over the accidental kiss, I try to smile at Gunner. “Well, okay. I guess I should go then. Umm, Mama is fed and sleeping. The hellions need dinner in an hour. It’s in the—”

  “Fridge. I know the routine, Rose. Go to work.”

  “You kissed him?” Shelly shrieks from across the diner as she pours coffee for Archer, an elderly regular. Smelling our dinner special, meatloaf, is somehow not helping this awkward conversation. Why did I open my mouth!

  Archer chuckles and reaches for the steaming cup. “Who kissed who, Shelly?” The old, wooden walls of this building know all the tales of Brasstown and are hearing yet another story to add to the gossip rat race.

  Sitting at the table in the middle of our restaurant, Betty explains to her husband with her elderly, wobbly voice, “Gunner. Rose kissed Gunner, Archer dear.”

  “Well, about time!” Archer clicks his coffee cup to his wife’s in celebration. “I like that boy, even if he needs a haircut and his daddy met his mama in the woods.”

  Gunner says it feels natural for his locks to hang past his shoulders. As long as mine is longer, I don’t care. He’s had long hair since he was a toddler. I’d probably freak if he snipped his thick mane.

  Shelly comically yells to the old-timer, “Eat your biscuits, Archer. Gunner�
��s mama is not from the woods.”

  Little old Betty is getting excited. “It is true! And my parents used to tell me stories of trolls living in our mountains.”

  “Trolls?” Shelly wickedly eyes Betty as if she’s ready for a special home.

  Betty doesn’t care and takes a bite of her meatloaf. “Besides, there’s no other explanation. No one can be as beautiful as Eve and be of this world.” She rubbernecks to me. “And now the romantic story continues with you and Gunner kissin’.”

  Archer and Betty laugh as I—with much embarrassment—try to explain. “It was an accident, and stop spreading wise tales.”

  Shelly grabs another meatloaf order from the kitchen window. “Did you like the kiss? I would have liked it—”

  “Shelly!” I try to get her to focus on her job, not my non-existent love life.

  “Oh, come on! Please? I need the juicy details. Gunner is Brass’s only catch.”

  “Oh, a catch indeed,” Betty chimes in.

  Archer has loved Betty for fifty years. “So now I need to grow my hair long and be born of the woods?”

  Exasperated, I set down a cheeseburger in front of another regular. “He’s not of the woods.”

  “What hair, dear?” Betty grins, rubbing Archer’s shiny, bald head. “And you are already more wild than I can handle. Now hush. Back to Rose.”

  They both goggle at me as I notice all the diner patrons are now waiting for my answer. Shaking my head in disbelief, I surrender. “Uh, I think I enjoyed it.”

  “Hmm.” Shelly empties her tray.

  “What?” I know Shelly’s hmms are never good.

  She hesitates. “Well, it’s just—”

  “What?” I’m anxious for advice because something has been different inside me since I woke and found Mama seeming better. I need to know what it is.

  Archer holds up his dirty fork for emphasis. “What Shelly means is, you should know if you liked it.”

  I can’t believe this conversation is happening!

  Betty’s old voice quivers. “That’s right. I knew when Archer kissed me.”

  The antique bell on the diner’s door rings, stopping our gossip. I take this as a great time to escape torture and head back to the counter. Shelly greets the customer. I hear her mumbling, “Untamed and sweaty. Just the way I like ’em. He’s got an animalistic draw to him. Am I right, Betty?”

  “Oh, yes. Archer, you think Gunner has long hair?”

  Archer’s metal chair squeaks on the old, white linoleum flooring as he twists his weathered neck to see what his wife is fussing about. He attempts whispering, but he’s too old to know he isn’t. “And shaved on the sides like he’s from one of them crazy teenage movies.”

  Standing at the kitchen’s ticket window, I suddenly feel… alive inside, breathless yet not struggling for air. My heart pumps my blood at an unrealistic speed. I keep expecting to feel faint, but the sensation is the opposite. Sturdy… Yes, my feet feel grounded to the earth like never before. It’s almost hypnotic.

  Harry, the diner’s cook, grabs a ticket from the spinning wire wheel. He wears a ridiculous chef hat reading “#1” with a drawing of a spatula on the front. He pauses, studying me. “Old Archer got you flustered?”

  Surprised Harry has also been following the embarrassing conversation, I answer, “What? Uh, no… I’m just feelin’ a little… funny.” Still facing the window, I feel my breathing become a little more labored. Flutters in my belly make me feel as if I’m filling with a warm light.

  After seeing to her new table, Shelly joins me at the kitchen window. “He’s even hotter up close. I swear he has leather straps under his T-shirt, making me wonder who’s the lucky one who gets to tie him. And girl, he has blue eyes to die for, but I’m not calling dibs, he ordered a salad. What gives?” Shelly believes men should order steaks, or they’re simply not men. Period. The. End. “Ohhh, you did get a peek at him. You’re lookin’ a little flushed.”

  “What? No, I’m—” I stop when I look over my shoulder at the guy sitting in one of our hideous orange booths. He’s looking down, so I can’t see his eyes, but I understand what Shelly’s fussing about. He’s attractive in a rugged, untamed manner. Long brown hair is tied back in a ponytail. If he had short hair on the top of his head, his shaven sides would resemble a timid Mohawk. Not able to understand the draw I feel, I stare at the mysterious—

  The bell rings again. Another young man I do not know enters the diner, heading straight for the mysterious one still staring at the tabletop. He slips a T-shirt over his impressive bare chest, and I notice the leather straps Shelly suspects our first newcomer to have, but I don’t think they are for the bondage my friend is apparently hoping for. No, I see a knife sheath—with a knife.

  The newcomer has the same demeanor as our first unfamiliar guest, the same powerful presence and hefty shoulders. The only difference is this man has an actual Mohawk with longer brown hair dripping down his back instead of a restrained ponytail. He unwraps another leather knife holder from his rather large thigh and slides it into a pocket of his cargo pants that look homemade, still walking as if on a mission. His chest rises and falls with a shortness of breath. As he passes through the diner, he slows peculiarly, taking a sniff of the air. His gaze follows a trail…

  I gasp. His incredibly alive eyes suddenly hone in on me, but he does nothing but continue on his path to our first odd guest. Shelly grabs my arm. “Dear lord, look at his green eyes. They both got some sort of I-want-to-roll-around-with-you-in-the-dirt-and-rock-your-world thing kickin’.”

  “Shelly!” I don’t agree. They both look dignified in an I-live-in-the-woods—yeah—Shelly’s right. These young men are animal-natured, complicated, beautiful.

  Shelly pulls out her ticket pad. “What? It’s written all over them. You’re just too preoccupied to see it.”

  “Preoccupied?”

  “Yep, by a tall, broad-shouldered guy named Gunner.” As green eyes sits down, Shelly readies herself to investigate a future prospect—I mean, take his order. “Better not be a salad boy like his buddy.” She walks off. “Two in one night will be too much to… ”

  The bell on the glass door rings again, and an old friend from school walks in. I haven’t seen Darren in a while because of what is going on at his home. Darren’s heavy shoulders tell me the outcome. I hear Betty behind me, “Archer, I think Darren’s mama passed.”

  “She gave a hell of a fight.” Archer sounds touched by the unconfirmed news.

  Darren’s body sinks into a booth, and I go to him. The familiar heartache we all know too well surrounds him. “I’m so sorry, Darren.” I grab his hand.

  He squeezes my hand back. “I had to get out of that house… At least she’s out of her misery now, right?” He sounds awful.

  I nod with sorrow. Another victim has surrendered to the sickness. Darren had been nursing his mama and caring for three siblings while his dad worked around the clock to pay medical bills. The government sends people to assess the illness and give us encouraging words such as, “Okay, we will be back next month to monitor your progress.” If you’re lucky, you receive a small check. Maybe if we had more than one road in and out of town, we would have more assistance.

  Even though the illness has oddly slowed on its own this past year, and fewer and fewer cases are coming forward, it’s still painful for the people who have sick ones. Darren’s red eyes are proof of that.

  Darren glances to the diner’s front door. His eyes widen. He peers at our connected hands then quickly retracts his from mine. I hadn’t even noticed the damn bell that rings all day long. Gunner stands there, holding Wade and Louisa’s hands, staring at Darren’s table, and appears to have stopped breathing. Suddenly, heat—luscious heat—travels up my spine, warming my whole body and causing my own breathing to become rapid.

 
; Lulu lets go of Gunner’s hand and runs to me, hugging my leg. “Rosie!”

  “Hey, my little Lulu.” I pull her to my thigh as I observe Gunner’s eyes leaving the table. His stare is now my burden. Still breathless from the heating sensation, I smile, tilting my head, wondering about his expression. “Hi, Bubba.”

  Gunner studies my labored breath. “Hi.”

  “You okay?”

  Gunner blows out a breath. “Yeah, think so.” Still holding Wade’s hand, he approaches Darren’s booth. “Are you okay, Darren?”

  Darren shaking his head with evident pain is his only answer.

  Gunner swallows hard and grabs his shoulder. “Damn, man. I—” Darren puts his hand up, pleading for Gunner to stop. “I hear ya, friend.” Then he says to me, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He points between Darren and me. “But, uh, they wanted milkshakes.”

  Lulu and Wade nod their heads fanatically.

  Still short of breath, I feel a sweat bead roll down my temple. I find myself wanting to reach out to Gunner—or to the something stirring my insides like never before. Gunner is a warm, kind soul, and I am genuinely happy to see him here. Maybe I am seeing him differently because of the accidental kiss. But this unusual peaceful feeling is something I’ve been having all week, even before the kiss.

  With Lulu attached to my leg, I gesture Gunner to the counter. “Have a seat, and I will be right there to satisfy their cravings.” I make sure to give a playful warning glare to my rumor table. My scowl tells them to behave, but Archer and Betty mischievously giggle.

  “Hey, Archer. Miss Betty.” Gunner’s big hand brushes his long dark hair from his eyes as he walks Wade to a stool.

  “Hello, Gunner,” they reply in unison—a little too happily.

  Archer is not minding his business. “Interesting evening, Gunner?” Apparently, I need to work on my warning glare.