A chattering of squirrels erupted in the trees, and I turned, peering into the thicket.
A horde of goose bumps tap danced across my skin, and I crossed my arms over my chest. Why did I feel as if Vic was watching us? Was he? Did he regret giving us a week? Was it even safe to stay here with a man who held a gun to my head just for jogging on his property?
I shifted my gaze back to Jaeg. “Is Jackson safe here?” I asked.
He glanced toward the door as if making sure Jackson was out of earshot. “Yeah. But I’m not going to lie and say Gate’s harmless. He’s not. He’s spent his life hunting vile pieces of shit, and has seen things that would give the most hardened criminals nightmares.” His jaw flexed. “And yeah, he’s done things too. But he’d never hurt you or Jackson. Even if he thinks he would. Never a safer place than with Vic Gate.”
That didn’t exactly make me feel all warm and cuddly inside. It made me want to pack our bags and get out of his cabin as fast as I could.
But Jackson liked the cabin—a lot. He liked catching frogs and skipping stones in the river. He loved the tractor tire Jaeg hung on the massive maple tree behind the cabin. And I think he liked that no one heard him scream in the night.
I nodded, chewing my lower lip as my mind scrambled with what my options were. I didn’t have very many. Okay, more like only two. Stay in the cabin the week and hope Vic either changed his mind or left town. Or find another quiet, remote place to rent. Funds were an issue, but I’d managed to save a bit working at the bar and not having to pay rent.
My brother had offered to let us stay in his house in the city, or at his cottage in Muskoka, but there was no chance in hell I’d live in either place. Not when he had all kinds of people coming and going, including teammates.
A cold tremor went through me, and I rubbed my arms.
The screen door squeaked, and sent a grackle pecking at grubs on the soggy ground fluttering to a low-hanging branch in the distance.
Addie walked outside with Jackson, who had smears of white icing on his face. “Jacks wanted to know if Gate could breathe underwater. I told him that if it was humanly possible, then Vic would be the one to do it.”
Yeah. I imagined she was right. I bet the guy could eat fire, too, and pull a hundred-year-old oak tree out of the ground with his bare hands.
“And he wants to ask you something.” Addie gave Jackson a sort of wide-eyed look.
What was going on?
He looked at his feet and shifted his weight. “Can we….” He peered up at Addie and she offered a nod of encouragement. He inhaled a deep breath. “Can we ride the coaster down the mountain today?”
That must have been the throwing her arms up in the air thing. She’d been talking about the coaster at Blue Mountain. As much as I loved that he asked, because Jackson rarely asked for anything, I did not do coasters down mountains. I didn’t do rollercoasters, period. Give me a barrel spin ride, bumper cars, even spooky haunted houses, and I was game. But dropping off the face of the earth with my stomach in my throat—not my thing.
But there was no way in hell I’d say no. I couldn’t say no. I wouldn’t say no to Jackson. With my stomach already lodged in my throat just thinking about it, I said, “Umm, yeah, sure.” I swallowed. “Of course, we can. But first, you need to clean that icing off your face.”
He wiped the sleeve of his arm across his face.
I rolled my eyes skyward. “Go inside and wash your hands and face. Then make sure Waffles has food and water. I’m working tonight, and you’ll be at Hettie’s until late.”
He disappeared inside with a little bounce in his step. Okay, suffering from my stomach twisting down an entire mountain was worth it in order to see that bounce in his step.
“Oh, speaking of Hettie,” Addie said. “She called and invited you and Jackson for dinner the Sunday after next. She says Jaeg’s barbecuing ribs and she’s making her famous mac and cheese.”
“I am?” Jaeg asked, brows popping up.
The corner of Addie’s mouth curved up. “Yep. And it’s apple picking season, so you’re supposed to get there early.”
“Jesus,” he muttered. “She needs to hire someone. I can’t be pickin’ apples all bloody day.”
Addie laughed. “It’ll never happen. It’s penance for being a little shit-disturbing, donkey-butt teenager.”
Hettie had three apple trees in her backyard, and I remember Ethan telling me about them having to pick apples every year so Hettie could make jars of apple sauce to give to the shelter. Jaeg had been doing it since he was old enough to climb a ladder, and he’d supposedly been complaining about it every year since.
Addie looked at Jaeg, then at me. “Okay, spill it. What did Gate say?”
“Uh, well, he gave us a week,” I replied.
She snorted. “That’s such bull… ony. A week? He doesn’t even use the cabin.” She headed for the porch stairs, and her loose red curls springboarded off her back and shoulders. “He’s being a total butthead.”
Jaeg snagged her arm. “Oh no, you don’t. He needs time, and you need to give it to him.”