Page 37 of Traces Of You

Yeah, it was worry, not care.

She drove to her little cabin and parked in the back.

When she opened the back door, she felt the chill inside and immediately went to the wood stove to get it lit.

Ford had shown her how to manage the temperature as best as she could and it’d stayed nice all night and wasn’t freezing when she woke up this morning.

Sure, the wood floors were cold and she’d definitely be ordering herself a pair of slippers, but not too much stuff. It’s not as if her car had a lot of space to pack it in when it was time to leave.

She clenched her fist over her chest at that thought.

She didn’t want to leave.

Didn’t want to twenty years ago, and after one day back here, the thought of it again had water filling her eyes and her nose running. She sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“Why are you crying?”

She spun around and saw Clay standing in the doorway behind her.

“I’m not,” she said, wiping her eyes more.

He stared at her. “Lock the damn door.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking. I just walked in.”

Clay stood there staring at her with a box in his hand. How did anyone get close to this guy?

“Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding her head.

“Ford will be here by five thirty unless he gets held up.”

Clay walked in and dropped the box on the table. The guy made no noise when he walked, but dropped shit all the time.

“What’s in there?” She moved over and saw what looked to be clothing.

“Some of Ford’s old sweatshirts. My mother stopped me and asked me to bring them to you. She figured you had little warmer weather clothing.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“Don’t thank me, thank her,” Clay said.

“Why do you hate me?” The courage she only felt here pushed its way through her body to confront a man she’d normally be terrified of.

He frowned. “I don’t.”

“You have a crappy way of showing that.”

Clay’s bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth. The same move Ford had done.

“I don’t want to see my brother messed up again.”

“What?” she asked. “What does that mean?”

“Never mind,” Clay said. “Have a good night.”

Clay was gone just as quickly and quietly as he arrived.