“Well, I got some burns a long time ago. They were pretty bad and I never got to a hospital, so they didn’t heal as well as they might’ve otherwise.”
It was a vague answer, but apparently it was enough, because Violet let him go on reading. Until a couple pages later. “They don’t hurt you?”
“No. They itch sometimes, but that’s it.”
Yes, she’d seen him rubbing his arms often enough. But he’d never given her any more of his story than he gave Violet.
She allowed her posture to sag against the wall as her gaze wandered to the attic doorway. She really ought to bring a couple of boxes down. If she went through two or three each night, she’d at least make some kind of progress on sorting through everything. But just the thought made her already tired brain flinch.
Somehow she had to get up tomorrow and do all of this over again. What if the meeting with the elementary school principal went as poorly as today’s meeting had? Had Colie said even one word to her the rest of the day?
“Jen?”
She jerked away from the wall at the surprise of Lucas’s baritone voice. “Finished the book already?”
The dim hallway lighting did funny things to Lucas’s eyes, bringing out a tawny, almost amber tint. She’d always sort of wondered why he let his hair grow so long. But now she wondered why she ever wondered that in the first place. It gave him a sort of rugged appeal. Or maybe that was the beard.
Yikes, how long had she just stared at him? She really was tired.
“You keep coming to the rescue, Luke. I keep having more and more reasons to thank you.”
He cast a glance down the hallway, to where a sliver of light shone under Colie’s door. “She’s a quiet one.”
“She’s an angry one. Doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t like me.”
“Everyone likes you, Jen. Just give her a little time.” He rubbed both palms over his cheeks. “Which is the same advice I’m trying to give myself regarding Noah.”
“You know I still don’t entirely understand what your deal is with him. Frankly, I don’t know how I’ve let you off the hook for this long. Normally I’d have lured all the details out of you by now—who he is and where he’s from and how you know him.” She knew enough not to interrogate Lucas about his time in the Army or the hard few years after, but his present-day life wasn’t usually off-limits.
The part of it he spent in Maple Valley, anyway. Rarely did he have much to say about the months he spent working down in Mexico. Maybe there simply wasn’t that much to say about it.
“I told you. He’s an Army acquaintance in need of . . . I don’t know. Guidance, I guess.”
“And you’re the one providing it?”
He lifted one corner of his mouth. “Shocking, I know.”
“Actually, it’s not.”
Now the other corner of his mouth lifted, too. “So what are you up to now? Early bedtime? Clandestine, kid-free viewing of Toy Story 4?”
“I was trying to convince myself I had the energy to retrieve a couple of boxes from the attic. I can’t sell this house if it’s still crammed to the gills with my parents’ things.”
The color in his eyes shifted again—a light gold brightening his irises. “Well, if you’re going up, I’m going too. Because I’ve got something to show you.”
What could he have to show her in her own attic? He was already moving down the hallway and in seconds, they were making their way up the dusty attic steps.
“By the way, that helmet is right at the top of the steps. In case we run into any more bats.”
She whacked the back of his leg as she climbed the stairs behind him. “Not funny.”
“Just looking out for you, Belville.” He reached the top of the steps, then grabbed hold of her hand when she emerged onto the landing. “Come on. Over here.” He tugged her through the labyrinth of boxes and furniture.
He let go of her hand as soon as he reached the circle window at the far end of the attic. “I’ve always wondered why there’s a little balcony high up outside your house when there’s no door leading to it.”
“My aunt used to say the same thing.”
“Well, the other night when I was hauling boxes up here, I realized the balcony’s just outside this window. Why whoever built this house put a window here instead of a door, who knows. But the point is, the balcony’s accessible.” He stretched and fiddled with a latch on the window, pushing it open. He gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Let’s go.”
She eyed the window. “Through that small space? I don’t think so.”
“I tried it myself Friday night. I’m twice your size. If I can fit, you can too.” He pushed a box over and held out his hand. “Stop stalling. Climb on up and shimmy through. The view’s worth it.”
She might argue again if not for the slant of drowsy moonlight peeking through the glass. Just enough to make out the curve of his grin and the twinkle in his eyes. He’d saved her night from going up in smoke—almost literally. If he wanted her to climb through a tiny window, fine.
His warm fingers closed around hers as she stepped onto the box, then loosened as she peered at the window.
“Legs first,” he instructed.
She nodded and lifted one leg over the sill, found her footing on the small balcony landing, then brought the other leg over and slid herself the rest of the way through. Awkward, but doable.
A gust of cold evening air rushed over her, rattling the open window. At a second whoosh, it pushed the window closed altogether. “You better not leave me out here alone, Lucas.”
The window muffled his chuckle until he pushed it open again. He climbed through with ease, the landing creaking under their feet. He shot her another smile. “Now we just pray this balcony holds us.”
Instinct pushed her closer to his side. “Tell me you’re not serious. Tell me this thing is one hundred percent stable.”
He jumped then shrugged. “Seems stable to me. And you really should’ve told me you’re scared of heights. I wouldn’t have forced you out here.”
“I’m not scared of heights.”
“You’re white as a ghost.”
“Well, I haven’t had much sunlight lately.”
He chuckled, touching the back of her arm to lightly steer her to the balcony railing. “If you’re truly not scared, then check out the view. Was I right or was I right?”
She let her gaze travel the nighttime landscape stretching out in front of them. Moonlight polished rooftops and skimmed over the tops of trees. Stars winked from a sky of midnight blue and, in the distance, the river that ran through the middle of Maple Valley glistened. The chilly air smelled of autumn and . . .
Well, the man next to her. How was it she could spend an inordinate amount of time with a friend over the years and only just now realize what good taste he had in cologne or shampoo or aftershave . . .
No, not aftershave. He clearly hadn’t shaved anytime in the last couple of days. And this train of thought was making her uncomfortable. She’d certainly never put this much thought into his hygiene habits when they’d both lived at the Everwood.
“Can I ask you something, Jen?”