here to you?”
Once again he looked at her in surprise. He wasn’t accustomed to any woman doing anything for him. “Sure, that sounds great.”
“How do you drink it?”
“Just black is fine.”
She went back inside and he grabbed several planks of the pine deck wood from the pile on the side of the house and moved it closer to where it would be used.
He tried not to think about how odd it was that Maddy Taylor was inside his cabin and making him a cup of coffee. Everything felt so surreal since the moment he’d found her hiding in the hay in the barn.
She came out carrying the cup of coffee. “Thanks,” he said as he took the cup from her. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, thank you. I made myself some scrambled eggs and toast a little bit earlier,” she replied. She looked at the wood. “So you’re going to make a front porch?”
“A covered porch.” Flint took a sip of the brew. “Eventually, I plan to sit on the porch and see the deer that frequent this area while I drink my morning coffee.”
“Oh, that sounds like that would be wonderful. Do you mind if I sit out here and watch you work for a little while? It’s so pleasant out here with the tree shade.”
“Uh...sure. I’ve got a lawn chair you can use.” He went to the side of the house where a fold-up lawn chair leaned against the cabin. He grabbed it, carried it around and opened it so she could sit just out of the way of his work.
He wasn’t sure why she wanted to sit out here. He’d never had an audience when he worked before and he found the whole thing rather awkward.
Since everything was ready for him to lay the deck, he began by placing the long pine planks down. By this time of night his back and hip joints were usually screaming in pain and tonight was no different.
He swallowed the groans that threatened to escape from him each time he bent over. He was acutely aware of her and there was no way in hell he’d want her or anyone else to see or hear his pain.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said.
“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. He grabbed the hammer and a handful of nails from his toolbox.
“How did you ever find this place?”
“Dan Griffin at the realty office found it for me. The minute I saw it, I knew it was the right place for me.”
“So are you thinking of moving here soon?” A light breeze lifted several strands of her hair and the waning sunlight caressed her delicate features.
Oh, she was definitely a distraction. Flint had never really noticed just how pretty she was until now. Her eyes were lined with long, dark lashes and her lips were puffy pillows that invited a kiss.
Jeez, what was wrong with him? Why was he even thinking these thoughts? He wasn’t about to kiss her. He didn’t want a woman in his life. Besides, he didn’t even know her and in any case she was only here until her car got fixed.
She’d asked him a question but damned if he could remember what it was right now. “Uh, I need to hammer down these planks,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t want to keep you from your work.” Her eyes suddenly widened and she jumped up from the chair. She raced toward the trees and then bent over and threw up.
Madison’s stomach rolled with nausea. After throwing up once, she raced into the house, vaguely aware of Flint running after her in alarm. She ran into the bathroom and threw up once again, at the same time waving Flint away. “I’m okay,” she finally managed to say to him.
The nausea had finally passed. She closed the bathroom door and rinsed her mouth several times and then brushed her teeth. Thank goodness she’d set her toothbrush in the bathroom earlier. Oh God, how embarrassing. The last thing a woman ever wanted a man...any man...to see was her tossing her cookies.
She opened the bathroom door to find Flint on the other side, his handsome features wreathed with worry lines. “Maddy, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I just got a sudden bout of nausea. It’s all gone now.”
“Was it maybe the eggs? You told me you made scrambled eggs earlier. I didn’t check the date on them. Things are usually pretty fresh at the grocery store.”
“No, I’m sure it wasn’t the eggs. I... I’ve just always had a ridiculously weak stomach.” At the moment she was just tired. “Really, Flint, I’m okay.”
The concern remained on his face. “If you say so.”
She stepped out of the bathroom. “I think maybe I’ll just stretch out on the sofa for a little while. I didn’t get any sleep last night and that might have contributed to my upset stomach.”
“Okay. I’ll be right outside if you need me for anything.”
Minutes later he was back outside and she was on the sofa. She was disappointed. She had been hoping for a little more conversation with Flint. She didn’t care what they talked about; she’d just wanted a little nonthreatening human interaction.
For almost three months she’d been locked up in her trailer, not speaking to or interacting with anyone. She’d quit her job and had her groceries and anything else she’d needed delivered to her house. The only place she’d ventured out during that time was to the library a couple of times.
It had been fear and trauma that had locked her inside the trailer. The utter loneliness had come soon after. Normally, she was a social animal. She’d loved working at the grocery store where she got to visit with people as they came through her line to check out.
It was amazing how much people would tell her about themselves, about their lives, when she was scanning their food items. It was also pretty amazing how much you could learn about people just by seeing what food they chose to put in their home.
Bang. Bang. Bang. The sound of Flint’s hammer hitting wood sounded. She closed her eyes. These nausea bouts never lasted long but always left her tired. Hopefully, in fifteen or twenty minutes or so, she’d feel like going back outside to watch Flint.
And in the brief moments she’d been outside, watching him had been a pleasure. In his dark brown T-shirt and jeans, he was a long, lean glass of hunk.
Despite his leanness, his arms were firmly muscled and his shoulders were broad. He was the type of man she might have once dreamed about. She didn’t dream anymore. She only had nightmares. And she always dreaded the coming of night.
At least for tonight she’d have a real bed rather than the hay in a barn like she’d had last night. She couldn’t believe the good luck that it had been Flint who had found her and he’d had a place to bring her, a place that, according to him, few people knew about.
The car repairs shouldn’t cost too much and could be finished quickly so she could be on her way as far away from Bitterroot, Oklahoma, as possible. It was the only way she would be safe.
As the dark shadows of twilight began to fall, she got up and turned on the lamps on either end table. They provided a cozy, warm golden glow, but they couldn’t stop the anxiety that bubbled up inside her as night approached.
You’re safe here, an inner voice whispered in her head. Nobody can hurt you here. Except Flint. She frowned. So far Flint had been nothing but courteous and respectful toward her. Rationally, she knew not all men were monsters and so far there wasn’t a hint of monster in Flint.
The hammering halted and moments later a soft knock fell on the door. He opened the door and peeked his head in. “I just wanted to check to see if you were all right before I head out of here for the night.”
She