So far she’d found a dim light over the kitchen sink, one in a hallway and, thankfully, one in the small room she planned to use as her bedroom. Tomorrow, she had to buy some fixtures and bulbs. She’d take care of that before facing another evening. In the meantime, she also had a few battery-operated lanterns she could use.
Arms crossed, she turned a full circle, looking around. Mostly the interior needed a few simple repairs and perhaps some paint. The wooden floors were rough, but eventually, she’d have them refinished. Mentally, she added rugs to her list.
Some of the doors on the kitchen cabinets hung loose. No problem. She could fix those herself—but she decided new knobs would be great.
Draping cobwebs nestled in a few corners of the ceiling, and yeah, that creeped her out some, but she’d set off bug bombs right after buying the place. Once she got a ladder, she could get the webs cleaned out.
She’d already opened what windows she could to air it out. Luckily, new windows and a more secure front door would be installed tomorrow, along with some repairs to the eaves.
The bathroom was sanitized and in working order, with fresh towels stacked on the open shelf over the toilet, and a blind hung over the window. Her bedroom, too, had been cleaned top to bottom, and she had a cot set up with fresh bedding. Eventually, she’d get real furniture of her own. She’d make the house a home. She’d make herself normal.
You can do this.
Yes, she could, but first she needed to wear herself out. Cutting grass hadn’t done it. Cleaning parts of the house hadn’t done it. Setting up what she could only made her realize everything that still had to be done.
She needed a long jog to wrap up her day.
Heading into the bedroom, she thought about the time. She probably had a few hours before the mountain would shield the sunlight and shadows would cover the land. Night came a little earlier when you lived in the woods. She wasn’t irresponsible enough to go tromping through unfamiliar terrain alone in the dark. Plus, there were animals. So far she’d seen deer and fox, but there were also snakes and the occasional black bear.
Shaking that off, she changed into loose shorts, an oversize T-shirt and running shoes. Her belly-band holster included utility hooks, so it not only held her Glock—mostly hidden beneath the shirt—but also made it easy to clip on a flashlight and her keys. Those weren’t hidden, but who cared? She was out here alone anyway.
All her other weapons she stored in a locked closet in her bedroom. They’d stay there until she turned in for the night, and then she’d keep a few of them close at hand.
Some things were now ingrained—like the need to personally ensure her own safety, not only with bolted doors and windows but with as many weapons as it took to let her rest easier.
Stepping outside the house, she secured the entry door, stepped carefully off the deck that needed repairs and took another look around. With a deeply indrawn breath, she filled her lungs with the scents of pine and earth and clean fresh air. Trees grew everywhere, concealing a lot—but not her view of Hunter’s house some distance away.
He’d cleared parts of his land so that his trees looked more like deliberate landscaping rather than overgrowth. Whereas her property was steeply sloping in places, with rocky outcroppings all around, his was gently rolling.
Behind the houses, the wide creek cut a swath across the land. Even now, standing in the front, she could detect the sound of rippling water. During heavy rains, it’d probably flood. Luckily, it was lower than the houses, framed by foothills that circled the mountain.
For only a moment, she resisted, then decided, why not? After a few brief stretches, she started loping in the direction of Hunter’s property. She wouldn’t intrude. Wouldn’t get close enough to bother him, but in her bones, it felt safer than going the other way into heavier trees and rockier land.
* * *
PUTTING ASIDE THE BINOCULARS, Hunter muttered a low curse. What are you up to, Jodi? He hadn’t exactly meant to snoop. Mostly he’d wanted to take a closer look at the house without her knowing. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate his worry on her behalf.
The binoculars were always accessible because he enjoyed catching sight of eagles, elk and even a mountain cat or two.
He’d been studying one boarded-up window when she’d suddenly stepped out wearing different clothes—loose clothes that showcased just how small and slender she was. The visual was enough, but then she’d looked around as if uncertain of her surroundings.
“Yes,” he’d muttered low, as if she could hear him. “It’s more isolated than you realized, isn’t it?” Maybe that’d be incentive enough for her to change her mind.
Yet it hadn’t changed his. Isolation was exactly what he’d wanted—what he still wanted.
Perhaps Jodi was the same.
It didn’t surprise him when, instead of going back inside, she’d turned to stare at his place...and then started toward him.
Did she feel the same keen curiosity that plagued him? If so, that wouldn’t do.
The whole point of the house and property he’d purchased was privacy. He didn’t want to be around other people. He didn’t want anyone else to suffer his foul moods as he dealt with unsettling nightmares.
He didn’t want to deal with their optimism either. Their mundane complaints about shit that didn’t matter. Their carefree chatter.
For eighteen months, he’d had what he wanted. Even his mail got delivered to the post office in town. No one came out this way—but now he had a quirky, somehow fierce and unpredictable woman literally jogging his way.
Hunter had no idea how to deal with her.
His body had a few suggestions... Eighteen months of seclusion meant he’d been a long time without the relief of sex. Too long, given the heat spreading through his bloodstream at the sight of Jodi in her too-big clothes drawing nearer. Odd, but until now, until her, he hadn’t missed sex all that much. He’d been too lost in his own disturbing thoughts.
Now hot, grinding need interrupted his darkness.
Locking his jaw, Hunter wondered if he should just ignore her. For his own peace of mind, that seemed the way to go...until Turbo suddenly became aware of her. Rolling off the couch in awkward haste, the basset-beagle mix tipped his head, scenting or listening, Hunter couldn’t tell, but the dog went nuts.
And the croaking began.
Running a hand over his face, Hunter accepted that he was probably the only man alive who would adopt a starving bag of bones with heartworms and a skin condition...who didn’t know how to properly bark. As usual, that thought ended with a laugh.
“Why do you pretend to be vicious, bud? You know you’re not, and that odd noise isn’t going to convince anyone otherwise.” He bent to stroke Turbo’s head, reassuring the dog.