Page 7 of Home for Nathan (Secret Springs)

Chapter

Seven

N athan woke up the next morning, frowning at the scent of coffee filling the apartment. Surely, he hadn’t made any. So he got out of bed and went to stare at Zion, who peered into his refrigerator, a cup of coffee in hand, stark ass naked.

Amazing man. There was all this ink on the hard lines of his athletic body, scenes of mountains and winter plants and animals, as well as snowboards and skis and snowshoes. That was a sight to behold.

“Good morning. I hope the coffee smell is okay.” He got a grin.

“Good morning.”

“What’s safe for breakfast?” Zion asked.

“As long as it’s something that’s not fish, I’m pretty good. I’m kind of moving beyond the really sick part, I think. I mean, I haven’t thrown up at work for almost a week. I think that’s a record.”

Zion rummaged in the fridge. “Do you like working at the grocery store?”

He shrugged. “It’s a job. I don’t hate it. It’s fun to meet people. The boss is nice. It’s just the whole tuna salad thing.” He winked and turned to grab his robe. And felt a twinge in just the right places.

“You a little sore this morning?” Zion asked.

“Maybe just a little ache; nothing to write home about.”

“Well, now you’re gonna hurt my feelings.” Zion splayed a hand over his chest dramatically.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

He got another glinting grin over Zion’s shoulder. “I do. I like to tease.”

“I have the stuff to make pancakes. Or avocado toast.” Nathan put on slippers and walked into the kitchen. “What do you like to eat for breakfast?” It was one meal they hadn’t done together much. Maybe even at all, he thought. There was no reason to get out early, really.

“I like eggs, actually. Like, you know, I really like breakfast food in general. I eat breakfast for dinner a lot. Partially because eggs are just the easiest thing ever,” Zion pulled out eggs and milk and a pack of bacon.

“Yeah, I can see that, although I tend to default mostly to carbs for quick and lazy. You know, piece of toast, a bowl of cereal. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“I am embracing my inner carb more these days, but I have to admit, for years I did egg whites and protein shakes.” Zion made a face as he pulled down a bowl and looked through cabinets. “But I never loved just the egg whites, even in an omelet.”

“Yolk is where all the flavor is,” Nathan agreed. He turned on the kettle, then slumped down at the counter to put his chin on his hand, thrilled when Zion bounced over to give him a kiss.

“Morning,” Nathan murmured.

“Morning. Do you have pancake mix, or do I need to freeball it?”

“Freeball.” He snort-laughed, his smile going wide. “In the blue jar there with the silver lid.”

“And a pan for the bacon?”

“I do it in the oven. The pan is in there; it just needs new foil.”

“On it!” Zion bebopped around his kitchen, bacon in the oven, pan on the stove making pancakes, and it was so wonderful. Good thing he had a long apron for Zion to put on.

It had never felt like this with Don, who had rarely spent the night, anyway.

“So what are you up to today?” Zion asked. “Do you have to work?”

He checked his mental calendar. “Nope. I am footloose and fancy free.”

“Me too. You want to come out and see the house?”

His heart kicked up a gear. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, you said you wanted to see like, the yurt and the mill house and all.” Zion waved a hand before cracking eggs and whisking and generally getting to work.

“I do.” He put his hand on his belly. “Before it gets to be too much of a hike for me.”

“Well, we’ll grab some stuff to take for lunch from Alicia’s or something, and head out. The entryway is done, and I got all the floors good, but I need help.”

“With what?” His kettle boiled, so he made tea, and Zion got busy for several minutes, so he waited patiently until Zion was done making breakfast.

He took the plate Zion handed him, admiring the fluffy pancakes and crisp bacon. “By the way, you’re hired to cook.”

“Thanks! I do a mean salmon, but that will have to wait until you’re one hundred percent sure fish is okay. And I also do one really good carb meal.”

“What’s that?” He sipped his tea, waiting for Zion to join him.

“Carbonara.”

“Ah, eggs and bacon in pasta. I see a theme.”

Zion slid onto the stool next to him. “I am constant as the sun.”

“I like that.” He leaned a moment, and Zion gave him another kiss before they dug in. “So what do you need help with?”

“You’ll see.”

A bout an hour and a half later, they were pulling up at the Old Stone Mill house on the little trail on Zion’s property in a side by side. “You didn’t tell me I didn’t have to hike,” he accused.

“I know.” Zion grinned. “I didn’t want you to say we could do it later.”

“Are you kidding? I love this place. I’ve seen the pictures, and you can just peek at it from the highway, but that doesn’t do it justice.

” He peered at the ramshackle building that sat on a bend in the river, and also in a small falls, where the mill would have gotten its power.

There was a ladder down to the sluice too, and it was so picturesque and wonderful.

They wandered over, and as they got close to the river, Zion took his arm. “Just don’t want you to overbalance. I mean, I know you’re preggers and not sick or something, but I worry about your baby belly and you.”

He flushed with pleasure. “Thanks. Seriously. I’ve been going it alone for a while.”

“I get that.” Zion kissed the top of his head. “Now. Let’s get a good view. It’s not safe to go up in, but we can get close and take some pictures.”

“So how does it stay preserved?”

“The city and the property owner have a contract. So it passed to me. It’s all very fair, and the historical society is part of the preservation.”

“Ah. Hank Vargas.”

“Among others, but yes. Hank is the spearhead. He’s a nice guy.”

“He is.” Nathan really liked the guy, even if some folks thought he was a little…precise. Read fussy.

“Come on, honey.” They wandered to the mill base, and he started taking pictures while Zion came around with him, skipping a few stones, checking a few boards, just generally keeping an eye on him.

“This is so cool!” He shot what he could through the open door, then headed down toward the falls.

“Careful!” Zion called.

“I promise. That river is cold, even in the good weather.” And he didn’t want to end up shocking his system with an unplanned dunking.

“No kidding. I tried a dip up at the shallow end.”

He laughed, then frowned, because something in the water caught his attention. It was struggling, not just flapping or floating.

“Zion! Zion, I think there’s an animal trapped in the wood tailings down there!”

“An animal?” Zion stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Yes, you know, creature? Black and white, four legs. It’s a dog, I think. Or possibly a really skinny cow.” Nathan felt hysteria coming on. “I don’t know, but you can’t let it drown.” That would be horrifying.

He started looking around for a place to climb down so he could go help, and Zion pinned him with a look.

“You are not going down to rescue the cow-dog.”

He glared, but honestly, he didn’t want to risk it either, and it looked bitter cold. “You’re going to go, though?” Zion was his hero. He had to go.

“I’m on it.”

Nathan watched as Zion made his way down the near sheer face to get closer to the critter, who was barking now, which meant?—

“Totally not a cow!” he called out. “Definitely a dog!”

Zion didn’t answer, which was utterly air.

Nathan chose to believe that it was because his body was very busy and so was his focus, and not that he thought that Nathan was a giant dork.

“I’m going to need some blankets or some towels. I need you to go to the house. The code is one-one-one-one. Go straight up the stairs and to the second-floor bathroom. There’s a bunch of old towels. Can you do that?”

“One-one-one-one is a terrible password!”

Zion snorted. “I know, I just put it in. Can you go get towels? I’ll bring the dog up.”

“Okay, but we’re going to change your password.” Because really, that was just not natural.

One-one-one-one.

That was a lazy person’s password.

He jogged back up to the house, panting a little bit, because it was a steep hill—nice and grassy, but dangerous for little ones, for sure.

God, he’d become one of those people who thought about that.

When he got to the house, the door was open, so he didn’t have to use the code.

The two-story house looked neat and clean, but not like Charlie’s house, which was like “oh my God, I’m gonna die if I drip on anything or get mud on the floors”, which he totally was doing because his feet were muddy, but he had to go up to the second floor.

Please God, don’t let there be any carpet because he didn’t really think that he had time to get his shoes off, find the towels, get his shoes back on, and go out there to help Zion and the dog.

In between worried thoughts, he found the stairs and ran up them, dodging any kind of construction stuff that was strewn about. He found exactly where the master or the second-floor bathroom was, where the towels were. It was kind of handy because they were in a box labeled Old Towels.

People packed old towels in a box?

A little weird, but good to know.

He ran back down as fast as he could, carrying about twelve of said old towels, and when he got over toward the Old Stone house, he found Zion just walking up toward him with a bedraggled, skinny, black-and-white pup in his hands.

“She doesn’t have a collar,” Zion informed him.

“Well, she’s obviously hungry and lost, but cold first, huh? For both of you.” He started wrapping dog and hot snowboarder with towels.

“Thanks. It’s cold water.” In fact, Zion’s teeth were chattering a little.

“I can tell.” He followed Zion back to the house, really panting now. Wow, he needed to get out and walk more. Just going from his apartment to the Sundrop wasn’t cutting it.

“Hey, shhh.” Zion soothed the dog, who was whining a little. “I got you.”