I stayed quiet as we began the gentle slope up to his cabin. Forrest came with us, his soft breath puffing close to my ear.
“That might seem noble in your mind, but it’s not. She’ll find out. Eventually. And then be furious you kept it from her.”
Jacob was quiet, his breathing laboured and sweat rolling from his hairline as we finally reached the decking around his cabin.
I hadn’t come up here. I hadn’t been invited or permitted. But now, he clutched me closer, placing more weight than he had before as he attempted to climb the first step of three.
Nuzzling into him, I braced myself so he had something firm and strong and not weak and wobbly.
When he’d climbed the decking steps and released a haggard groan, he shook his head and dragged me toward the sliding glass doors to his home. “Once again, you have it wrong.”
“Believe me, in this, I know I’m right.”
Letting me go, he braced himself on the glass.
I missed his heat, even if he was burning up with pain. Looking over his shoulder, he spoke calmly to the gelding. “You’re free, Forrest. Hope will take you home in a bit.”
The horse nickered and promptly ambled off to eat grass. Luckily, the massive veggie garden, just to the left of Jacob’s deck was fenced off because the carrot tops looked mighty tempting.
I shook my head in awe. Either the horse spoke English or Jacob had some magical powers I desperately wanted to learn. Every horse I’d ridden had tolerated me, but none of them loved me like Forrest loved Jacob.
Pushing open the slider, Jacob hobbled inside.
I stayed where I was, unsure if I was supposed to follow or go.
He turned slowly, resting his hand on a wooden table that looked as if it’d been carted from the forest, given legs, and left in all its natural glory. “You’re wrong, and I’ll tell you why. My mother loves me almost as much as she loved my father.”
“What?” I crossed the threshold, stepping into Jacob’s private world. “Don’t be absurd. She loves you just as much.”
“Stop interrupting.” He glowered. “She loves me almost as much, but it’s still enough to break her if I died too. Just a simple cut and she loses it. I made a promise to a ghost that I would do everything necessary to protect and look after her, and this is me keeping that promise.”
Pointing at the kitchen which was drenched in sun thanks to the skylight directly over the large black sink, he added, “Get me some painkillers. They’re in the pantry. If you feel inclined, make us some lunch. I’m hungry. And then, you and me are going to sit here quietly while my body mends.”
“Ever heard of please?”
“Not really.”
“Well, you should learn.”
“And you should learn to mind your own business.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but he smirked. “You’re my excuse if Mom comes asking why I haven’t finished raking the west paddock. I’m finally being a good host and hanging out with you.”
“I don’t know about this.” I tiptoed toward the kitchen, feeling as if I trespassed on his privacy just by breathing in his home. Heading into the walk-in pantry, I scanned the neat shelves of tins, packets, and sauces before finding a tower of anti-inflammatories and pain relievers.
Grabbing a box, I moved back to him. “Use these a lot, do you? Got a pretty decent stash.”
He waited for me to pop two from the blister packet before cocking his head. “Come on, Hope. Two won’t cut it. Four, please.”
“Four?”
He nodded as if I was a simpleton.
“You can’t have four.”
“I can. I do. Now gimme. I even said please.”
Reluctantly, I popped another two into his palm. He didn’t even wait for me to get a glass of water before he swallowed them dry with a flick of his head.
“Experienced in self-administering pain relief, huh? I’m beginning to think your mother is right when she calls you reckless.” I tutted like a frustrated nurse. “Then again, she probably knows more than you give her credit for.”
Jacob grinned, hobbling toward the comfy-looking tanned couch and sitting down carefully. It took a while for his spine to roll and go from standing to resting. Once he was in position and breathing hard from fresh agony, he patted the couch beside him. “None of your business or concern. All you need to worry about is being a convincing liar.”
“I’m not lying to your mother.” I sniffed, sitting primly.
“Acting then. You know how to do that.” He slipped deeper into the furniture, his skin whiter than I’d seen. “Either way, Hope, what happened today is our little secret. Got it?” He pinned me with a livid stare, delivered with dark gaze and darker promise.
Slowly, I reclined, keeping his stare and committing myself to this crime. “Okay, Jacob. Our little secret.”