I grip the sink in front of me and hunch over, dropping my head, no longer able to look at myself. It’s be
en four years, but it feels like it was last week.
I turn without looking back at my reflection and get into the shower. The warm water hits my chest first, and it feels good. I relax my head back and blow out a deep breath. I wash away the dirt from the day, then get out and dry myself. Walking naked into my bedroom, I grab a pair of gray jogging pants and slip them on.
While the pot of rice is cooking, I chop up the cooked chicken, then throw it in the pot. I make both Gigi and myself a bowl and set hers on the floor in the kitchen. I carry mine into the living room, where I catch the last quarter of the Broncos game.
After, I put the leftovers away. That’s another good thing about chicken and rice. Leftovers.
I let Gigi out once more and throw a couple logs in the fireplace before locking up the house. It’s only nine thirty, but I’m exhausted from the extra work I’ve done today. I take off my jogging pants and put them on the end of the bed, and stretch out naked on the bed, my hands going behind my head.
An unbidden image of the woman from the grocery store comes to mind. Gwen. She had hair the color of brown sugar and eyes the color of a cloudless sky. Had I been a normal man, I would have admired her beauty, but I’m not normal and beautiful women are wasted on me.
I have no fucking idea why I offered to pay for her groceries. I told her I couldn’t wait for Jeremy to cancel the order, but it was a lie. It wouldn’t have taken him more than a minute or two. Actually, I do know why I did what I did. I saw some of the items that were rung up and overheard parts of her and Jeremy’s conversation. She has kids. The thought of her dragging her kids out in this weather didn’t sit well with me. They should be warm and safe in their home.
I wasn’t trying to be rude or an ass when she asked for my name, but I have no desire to be her friend. I just wanted her gone so I could finish with my shit and leave. I hate going to town, and I only do it when I have to. The looks and whispers I get piss me off, and it takes iron will to keep my mouth shut.
She tried to hide it, but I saw the look on her face and heard her breath hitch when she saw my scars. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t like the thought of her seeing my fucked-up face and being disgusted. I don’t know why I gave a damn, but I did.
I push the thoughts of the brunette away and roll to my side. My eyelids drift closed and it’s not long before the exhaustion from today pulls me into a deep sleep.
The next morning, I wake to fat snowflakes falling. It’s not bad yet, but in the distance I can see the dark snow clouds heading this way. The forecast said to expect at least a foot later today and another couple of feet over the next few days.
Most people dread the heavy snowfall, but not me. I love Colorado weather, especially the winters when the snow will come down for days. It may be cold as shit, but it’s still beautiful to be around. I like the thought of having a nice warm house to go to after work, walking in and smelling the logs burning in the fire.
After I get dressed, Gigi’s waiting at the door to be let out. While I wait on her to finish her business, I make a pot of coffee and stir the fireplace back to life and throw on a couple more logs. I stomp my boots on and walk out back to grab an armful of logs from the back porch. Everything is covered in white, and it looks gorgeous. I’ve lived in Colorado my entire life, and I never get tired of looking at a freshly dumped snowfall.
Gigi comes bounding around the corner, her coat covered in snow. She stops just long enough to root her nose in the snow until it disappears, then flicks her head up, throwing snow in the air. I whistle and she makes a mad dash for the porch, stopping once she’s on the steps to shake.
“Get your goofy ass in the house.” I chuckle and snap my fingers.
I follow her inside and unload the logs beside the fireplace. I walk back to the kitchen, the smell of brewed coffee leading me. I’m just pouring a cup when my phone rings. I snatch it off the counter, then groan when I see my mom’s name.
My mother is a good, loving woman, but there are times I just can’t handle her. She worries, and I love that about her; I just wish she’d know when to leave shit alone. I know she means well, she’s a mother after all, but her asking how I’m doing every time we talk, knowing she’s referring to my emotional state, isn’t something I want or need. All it does is remind me of what I try so fucking hard to forget. It’s bad enough I see them every time I look in the mirror, I don’t need them thrown in my face.
For almost a year after the accident, she hovered over me like a mother hen. It’s just me and my younger sister, so when one of her kids is hurting, I know she hurts as well. Dad had to finally drag her out of my house when he saw she wasn’t helping at all, but hindering my mental healing. Before the accident, they were supposed to move to Tennessee where my sister Christa lives, but the accident put the move on hold. Luckily, after realizing what my mother was doing, my father eventually convinced her to go forward with the move. I miss my family, but I’m glad they aren’t so close anymore.
I hit Ignore and set the phone back down on the counter. I know I’m being a dick, and I do feel guilty, but I just can’t talk to her right now. I’ll call her back later or something.
I down the rest of my coffee and head back outside to check on the horses and to haul in another load of wood. My cabin doesn’t have central heat and air, so I depend on the fireplace for all the heat. I like it that way.
Once I’m done, I refill my coffee and head outside to sit on the porch. It’s fucking freezing outside, but it’s beautiful and peaceful. I sit on the wicker chair with my feet up on the railing and look out over the field of white and the snow-covered mountains. I inherited this place from my grandparents ten years ago. My grandfather used to breed horses for a living, before he got too old. I’d come over every day after school when I was younger and help him around the place. My grandma passed away twelve years ago, and my grandfather was never the same. He always told me the place was mine once he was gone. He knew of my desire to work with horses.
The snow is coming down in huge flakes now and it’s halfway up the tires of my truck. Something catches my attention, and I try to focus on it. My feet clunk to the porch, and I get up from my seat. Walking to the railing, I squint. Something’s off in the distance, but I can’t tell what it is with the heavy snowfall. I set my mug down on the railing and walk off the porch. I’ve gotten about fifty yards when I realize it’s a vehicle.
“Sonofabitch,” I mutter. This is the only road out this way for miles. The vehicle looks to be at an angle, indicating they’re more than likely stuck in a ditch.
I’m half tempted to leave them out there—it’s fucking stupid to be out driving in this weather—but with how fast the snow is coming down and the dropping temperatures, they’ll likely freeze to death.
I stomp back to the house, cursing under my breath the entire way. Helping some idiot is the last thing I want to be doing right now. I like my solitude out here, and except for the people I have to deal with regarding the horses I train, I try to avoid them as much as possible.
I swipe my keys from the hook just inside the door and grab a bigger coat from the closet, along with some thick gloves.
“Stay here. I’ll be back,” I tell Gigi, who’s sitting at the door watching me.
I start the truck to let it warm up while I brush snow off the windshield and windows, then put the chains on my tires. Living in this area, it’s pretty much required you have four-wheel drive, or you better bet your ass some time or another you’ll get stuck. Like the idiots right now on the road that runs along the front of my land.
It takes me ten minutes to clear my truck enough to drive and for my windshield to defrost. The truck is toasty warm when I climb inside and go rescue some ass who’s ruining my relaxing day.