Thank you.

“You okay now?” He pulls his head up and looks down at me. “Or do you need help with the shower?”

He gestures to the running shower, now hot and filling the bathroom with steam.

“I’m okay.”

I can wash my hair with one hand, I guess.

I scratch my head, overwhelmed. I have no idea what happens with the three of them when I leave this bathroom.

But nothing has to happen unless I want it to. There’s always that.

It can all end now.

I strip off my shirt, and he takes my hand, holding me steady as he helps me in to the shower. I go to pull the curtain closed, but I meet his eyes, and I can see the look there as he stares back. The one where he’s thinking of climbing in with me.

But as I watch the temptation play across his eyes, I finally watch as he just sighs, shakes his head, and rolls his eyes, yanking the curtain closed between us.

In a moment, the bathroom door opens and slams shut again, and I smile to myself. Thank goodness he made that easy.

One thing is for certain, though. Too much of a good thing is dangerous.

I’m sleeping alone tonight.

“Move the horses into the paddock and start clearing the debris.”

“Already done,” I hear Noah tell his father as I descend the stairs. “I’m raking out the stalls now. Oh, and Henderson emailed about his order, so just go deal with the new specs, and I’ll take care of the barn.”

I enter the kitchen, seeing Noah pull a small plate out of the microwave as I circle the island toward the sink for some water.

He sets the plate down on the counter, his eyes falling to my arm. “Is it okay?”

I fill up a glass and nod, tossing him a half smile. “It’s okay.”

A little better after my shower and the ibuprofen, actually. The heat cured most of my body aches.

He stares down at me, a slight smile playing on his lips, and flutters fill my stomach, making me lose my breath. He did exactly what he said he was going to do last night. He made love to me. He kissed me so much.

He kissed me so much last night. My cheeks warm, remembering.

He pushes the plate toward me, smirking like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Your muffin’s warmed.”

I cock an eyebrow and grab the muffin off the plate, taking my glass and walking away. I hear his snort behind me.

Setting my plate on the island, I take a bite as Noah leaves. The sweet taste makes my mouth water. I ate at dinner last night, but I’m starving like I haven’t eaten in days.

I look up, seeing Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the door that Noah just left through.

“What’s wrong?”

Jake blinks, shaking his head. “He’s helping,” he replies. “Willingly.”

He walks to the coffee pot and pours a cup as I drop my head, so he can’t see my smile.

“And the coffee’s already made,” he adds, staring at the pot with a puzzled look.

I take another bite. Happy people are more agreeable. I know that much. Noah is responsible today, because he’s happy today.

“Aren’t you cold?” I hear Jake ask.

I look over, seeing him stare at my bare arm, because I’m wearing a tank top with only one arm inside my sweater. The other side is tucked over my shoulder.

“The sleeve chafes me.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and take another bite.

He approaches. “You should stay in bed. You shouldn’t be up walking around. We can handle everything.”

“I don’t want to stay in bed.”

I thought about it. If for no other reason than to catch up on some sleep, but…

I don’t want to be in my room. I don’t want to be where they’re not.

I slow my chewing. It’s going to hurt to leave when the snow melts, isn’t it? I miss them when I’m not around them. What’s it going to be like being in a different state when I don’t even want to be in another room without them?

“Did you draw these?”

Huh? I come back to reality and turn, following his gaze. Both doors of the refrigerator are plastered with my sketches for the re-designs I’m doing on the furniture. I straighten my spine and walk toward the fridge, confused. I thought I threw these away.

Wrinkles cover one of the pieces of the butcher paper, because it was thrown in the trash and dug out. The other sketches I slid under the couch when I finished working the other day in the living room and wanted them out of the way.

Now they’re hanging up.

It only takes a moment to realize who put them there. I turn my head, seeing Kaleb throw a saddle over his shoulder and lead Shawnee back into the stable. I smile to myself.

“They’re good,” Jake says. “Can’t wait to see the finished product.”

I’m not sure how much I’ll get done with one arm, but I’m excited to get back in the shop. Jake takes his mug and starts to leave the kitchen, but then he turns and looks at me, suddenly serious.

“I don’t want you venturing off the property,” he tells me. “And don’t go outside at night, okay?”

“Why?” He’s trained me how to deal with wild animals.

But he tells me, “The fire started in the loft. There’s nothing there that would’ve caused it.”

I stare at him. So… It wasn’t electrical or something the boys did? What…

And then it hits me. The fire was set on purpose?

“I thought you said no one could get up here,” I say

“No.” He shakes his head. “I said the roads were closed.”

He leaves the room, and I gape after him. He’s not serious. Someone else could’ve been here last night?

I adjust the spray gun, turning the dial on the gun to a lower setting, and stand back, spraying a light dusting of gold paint over the most pronounced parts of the blue, violet, and green dresser. I graze the perimeter of the top, as well as the legs and the four corners.

Turning the gun off, I set it down and pull off my mask and eyewear. The blue and violet melt into each other, and I love how the blue drips into the green. The gold gives it a sheen, and once the handles are back on, I think it’ll look amazing.

I smile. I like it.

Removing the sling Jake had me put my arm in, I look down at the bandage, not seeing any blood seeping through. I don’t really need the sling, especially since it was my left arm injured, and I’ve been doing fine with just my right hand today, but Jake was right. Keeping it immobile helped with the pain.

I pop two aspirin with a drink of water and pass Noah and Jake as I walk back into the house.

Washing my hands, I look out the window, seeing the snow-drenched branches and needles, a light wind kicking up the powder on the rock cliffs around the barn and stable. From this view, the barn looks fine. I can’t see the other side and the whole corner burnt out. Thank goodness most of it is still useable. The boys spent the morning cleaning out the rubble and patching up what they could with the supplies we had on hand before laying down fresh hay.

The red light on my phone lights up as I dry my hands, and I turn it on to see a missed call from Mirai. I let out a sigh.

If I talk to her, what should I lead with? How I was injured by falling debris in a barn fire or how we were in a police chase or how I’ll be lucky to make it out of here next summer not pregnant?