Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
With a nod, she took the small sign from his hand which read, ‘Ranger Assistance Assigned and Scheduled,’ then grabbed her belongings, stuffing them into the shopping tote bag she always kept in the car. She didn’t have much—just her purse, a couple of paperback books about Alaska, her phone, an extra sweater and gloves, a pack of cough drops, and a blanket. She left her ink pens, spiral notebook, and tissue box behind.
Moments later, she was in the man’s big and cozy truck, feeling a sense of safety she couldn’t describe. Filter’s, ‘Hey Man, Nice Shot’ was playing on his radio as he maneuvered the vehicle around and made his way up the road.
The snow crunched under his tires, but as he picked up speed, all she heard was the music. The wipers worked hard to counter the heavy snowfall. She was stunned he could still see enough to make the journey, steering up the uneven path.
She studied him out of the corner of her eye every now and again, then forced herself to stop lest he caught her checking him out. But it was so hard to refrain from admiring him. He was so handsome. Strong.
Sucking on his lower lip, his face drawn in concentration, he kept a keen eye on the road, his big hands wrapped around the steering wheel.
“I picked a fine time to bring biscuits, huh? Shit… they weren’t that good to warrant all of this.”
He burst out laughing. “Funny. I was just thinking that. Not that the biscuits weren’t good, but the timing wasn’t really the best for a visit in these parts. They were delicious, by the way.” His gray gaze spoke volumes—brimming with experience and bottomless emotions. This man had seen a lot in his lifetime, she’d bet.
She hugged herself when a chill ran through her.
“I’ve caused you a lot of trouble lately. I feel like I owe you an apology, too. If I hadn’t tried to take a detour, this probably wouldn’t have happened. I have to say though, I promise my life isn’t usually this exciting or dramatic.” She chuckled and waved her hand about. “And I’m not needy, either. No damsel in distress over here, though it sure as hell looks like it, I’m certain.” She rolled her eyes and stared out the windshield. Snow everywhere… “I don’t know what the hell is going on.” She leaned back against the headrest and shook her head, disgusted with herself.
“Oh, look. I’ve got a signal now.” She held up her phone, relieved, then quickly sent Martha a text message letting her know what had transpired, and that she was on her way back to Jack’s house. Someone needed to know where she was, just in case he really was what horrible legends were made of.
As time passed, and different hard rock songs played back-to-back, much to her dismay, she tried to engage with the man, but he just wasn’t biting. He smelled like cigars and aftershave. His fingernails and hands were clean, but callouses and old cuts proved he spent quite a bit of time outside in the elements. He had a certain toughness about him, which likely, no one could tame.
“You like living all the way out here, huh?” she asked with a smile. Perhaps if she asked him to speak about his castle of sorts, he’d be more encouraged to talk to her.
“Mmm hmm,” was all he offered.
He didn’t seem thoughtful—just focused on driving. She took that as a final clue to shut up. It was a struggle because talking made her feel better.
Apparently, Jack didn’t share that sentiment. He seemed to relish the quiet. Maybe it protected him, too, in its own way. When they arrived at his house, it was aglow in yellow lights, even prettier at night. A big fortress with large glass windows.
He helped her out of the truck and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up to place her on solid ground. It wasn’t a sexual gesture that robbed her of her speech, but merely him offering help, knowing that the truck was big and she might have struggled getting out of it, especially with so much ice and snow underfoot. He led her to the front door, her belongings in tow, and unlocked the door. She entered behind him and waited for him to turn off the alarm and take her coat.
“Like Groundhog Day, huh? I’m back again.” She laughed.
He smiled at that. Before she realized what he was doing, he grabbed her by the wrist, led her to the couch, and sat her down. She watched with hitched breath as he removed her shoes, placed them to the side, then ran his hands up and down the soles of her feet, still clad in socks.
“You had heat in your car, but you were still cold. Have to keep the blood pumping on days like this. Frostbite can be sneaky.”