Page 21 of Mountain Men’s Nanny

I looked across to the living room where Gideon was still busy kindling the fire and Tobias was listening to Lexi read. They hadn’t heard anything Gunner had said, and if they had, they were choosing to ignore it and doing it well.

“I’m going to make some hot cocoa. It’s just the thing to warm us all up,” I said, finally finding something to do with myself now that Lexi definitely wasn’t coming back to do any schoolwork.

“It’s on the top shelf,” Gideon said, getting up from the fire he had started, kindled and secured behind an iron grate. “I’ll help you get it.”

I was about to say I could get it myself when Gideon was suddenly behind me, reaching up into the cupboard to bring the tin down.

The smell of sweat and camphor wafted to my nose, triggering a rapid-fire montage of the last time he stood so close to me. It was all in my head, but my warm cheeks in the cold of the kitchen betrayed me.

I imagined he could read my mind, saw what I was thinking and blushed too. He dug his hands deep into his pockets and leaned against the cupboard.

“Sorry we disrupted your spelling lesson. The wind is crazy outside,” he explained.

There was no need. I wouldn’t have wanted to be outside in this weather either. Besides, this was their home. And in an odd way, I missed having Gideon lurking around as Lexi and I went through our day. The way he’d stop what he was doing now and then to listen in on our lesson.

“Yeah, is it always this rough going into winter? Kind of makes me scared to think what it’ll be like later,” I said with a shiver.

“It does get pretty dicey, but you have a fireplace in your room, right? I can help you get a fire started after dinner,” he offered.

I smiled mischievously, bringing the powdered milk and water to a boil before sneaking in a cinnamon stick. Gideon watched me intently. He watched my face when I spoke, my hands when I stirred and seemed to be inspecting the fit of my sweatpants when I walked back and forth from the cupboard.

“I’m sure you won’t miss a single stick of cinnamon and a few other ingredients I refuse to share,” I said conspiratorially.

“We’ll add it to our growing list of secrets,” Gideon smiled, looking down at his boots.

The kitchen was heating up. I hardly felt the cold until something crashed loudly outside. It was unexpected, loud, and metallic.

I didn’t think twice before jumping into Gideon’s arms.

“Sounds like a roof sheet. I’ll go check it out,” Gunner announced, jumping up from the couch where he had been reading the newspaper. “Save me some hot chocolate.”

I saw Gunner disappear into the shed and thought nothing more of it. Lexi and Tobias continued with their reading, and Gideon was trying not to look like he was doing a perimeter check on the cabin. It was one of the many things I realized I should have known about cabin living before I came here. The house creaked in the night. There was no traffic noise coming from outside, and when it became as windy as it was today, the windows screeched.

But there were also so many things I had not even considered I’d enjoy. The stars seemed closer and brighter; the air was clean and crisp, and I hadn’t had the smell of antiseptic in my hair since I’d arrived.

I took the cocoa off the stove just when Gunner fell back into the house, clutching his thigh. I smelled the blood before I saw it. It wasn’t a strong smell, but anyone who had worked in a hospital knew the metallic scent as soon as they smelled it. I could almost taste it.

“What happened?” I asked, rushing toward Gunner.

Gideon had already gone to the door, eyes alert, face stony, ready for anything that might happen.

“It’s nothing, just a cut. It was just as I thought, the roof sheet we hadn’t gotten around to securing fell off the shed and sliced into my leg,” Gunner groaned.

He played it off as something small, as if he wasn’t in pain, but his face screwed up in a grimace and blood seeped through his jeans.

“Lexi, baby, go upstairs. We need to help Gunner. We’re too far from the hospital,” Tobias said, laying a throw down on the carpet for Gunner to sit on.

I jumped into action, acting purely on instinct. I found the first-aid kit in the cupboard and went to see what damage had been done to Gunner’s leg. He pulled down his pants, exposing a deep, angry gash across his thigh.

“I need a towel and some disinfectant, maybe alcohol,” I said to no one in particular.

It was a blur. I poured disinfectant into Gunner's wound, clearing the blood so I could properly assess him. The wound was deep and oozed blood.

He twisted his face in pain, but lay stoically while I worked, rinsing and dabbing while Tobias moved mechanically to make Gunner more comfortable.

“You’re going to need stitches,” I announced.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Gunner smiled, forcing his face into what he thought was a neutral expression.