Wedding Survivor (40 page)

Marnie looked at Eli. "Do you think that's true?"

Eli shrugged a little. "She does seem to be wearing a little thin on everyone." A shriek and the sound of a large crash in the cabin startled them; Eli grinned. "Maybe sooner rather than later." He laughed and looked at the sky. "It's going to let loose any minute now." He started kicking dirt on the fire. Marnie helped him, and when they had put out the flames, he grabbed her boots and they hurried to the cabin.

Vince and Rhys were seated before a fire at the hearth eating sandwiches when Eli and Marnie came in; Olivia was on the bed, her arms folded over her chest, pouting.

"A fire!" Marnie said, moving to stand before it. "Vince, it's perfect!"

"I beg your pardon, but I am responsible," Rhys said. "Peanut butter sandwich?"

"Thanks," she said, taking it. Rhys held up one to Eli, which he gratefully took, along with a bottle of water, and joined Marnie in front of the fire. The four of them—Olivia was still pouting—made small talk while they ate sandwiches and apples. Every once in a while, one of them would walk to the door and open it to peer outside, then close it again, when it appeared the rain was not abating.

Beneath the damaged roof Eli had patched, they had several pots lying around to catch the tiny streams of rain that came in. Periodically, Eli would pour the water into a kettle.

When the rain did at last pass over them, and the stars came out, Eli quietly left the cabin during a lively discussion between Olivia and Vince about a script she obviously loved and he despised. As he stepped out, Olivia called Vince stupid and moronic, and he responded by calling her a bitch.

When Eli returned a half hour later, he had a flashlight in one hand and Marnie's backpack in the other. "I'm beat," he announced. 'Time for you all to go home."

Olivia turned big, sad eyes to Vince. Vince rolled his eyes.

Rhys stood up, took one last peanut butter sandwich, and sang out good night. Vince stood, too, and frowned down at Olivia, who was sprawled in one of the leather chairs before the fire. "What?" she said weakly.

"Come on. Eli won. He gets the cabin."

Marnie stood, but Eli put a hand on her arm to stop her.

"It wasn't really a contest!" Olivia whined. "I didn't agree to it, and I paid for this cabin."

"I'll reimburse you," Eli said.

"I'm not going," she said, and tossed her head.

"Jesus H.
Christ
," Vince shouted. "Would you, just once, think of someone besides yourself? I am so sick of your shit!" he bellowed, and grabbed Olivia's arm and yanked her up to her feet. "Put some shoes on."

"Who are you kidding?" Olivia said sharply, yanking her arm from his grasp. "You think
you
can make me? What a joke."

She said it with such disdain that Eli thought Vince would strike her. He didn't strike her, but for the first time since they had walked into this meadow, Vince lifted a finger. He lifted all ten of them and firmly grabbed Olivia, slung her like a sack over his shoulder, and pushed past Marnie. "I swear, Livi, you are on my
last
nerve!" he shouted as Eli calmly opened the door for him. Out they went, Vince marching stoically on, Olivia screeching at him to put her down.

The last thing they heard was Vince roaring at Olivia to shut up, followed by, "I hate you, Vincent! I
hate
you so much!"

Eli shut the cabin door and smiled at Marnie. She looked so bedraggled—even a twig was stuck in her hair now—that Eli couldn't help laughing. He'd never seen a more charming woman in all his life, and moved to where she stood, trying in vain to smooth one side of her hair. "I've got something for you," he said. "Wait here."

He walked out the back door and picked up the kettle of rainwater he had saved for her. It was full. Coupled with what was in the kitchen and the two buckets he'd put out back, he thought there might be enough for a shallow bath. He returned to the cabin, walked to the hearth, and hung the kettle from a hearth hook, left over, presumably, from the days when this was someone's home.

"What are you doing?" Marnie asked, watching him closely.

"Giving you a hot bath," he said, and laughed when Marnie squealed and clapped her hands with delight. In the kitchen, he grabbed two of the pots and brought them back to the hearth. "There's not enough water to run through the bathroom's heating element, but there's enough to heat and pour into the tub the old-fashioned way."

They stood side by side, anxiously watching the kettle and willing it to boil. When the water began to sizzle, Eli took the kettle from the fire to the bath and poured it into the tub.

"Get ready," he said. "I have enough for one more kettle, and that should be enough for a shallow bath."

"Oh,
Eli
," Marnie said, throwing her arms around his neck. "I think I love you!" She covered his face with kisses, then abruptly let go, grabbed up her little bag, and hurried to the bathroom.

Eli swallowed down the admission he felt on the tip of his tongue
: I think I love you, too
.

When he returned with the second kettle full of water, he walked into the scent of lilacs. Marnie had poured a small bottle of soap into the tub. He poured the water, went out, and returned with one of the thick robes Olivia had worn and a towel, both of which he hung on the hooks provided. "Have fun," he said and moved to close the door behind him, but Marnie stopped him with a hand to his arm.

"Eli…
thank you
," she said. "I know it sounds silly, but this means so much to me."

He smiled and wrapped his fingers around hers, squeezing them lightly. "I know," he said. "Don't let it get cold," he added and let go of her hand.

He shut the door behind him and returned to the main room of the cabin, a silly grin on his face. As he stood before the fire, his hands on his hips, his grin settled in. It made him feel good to see her smile like that.

Damn good.

Too damn good.

ELI definitely hid a softer side, and the more Marnie was around him, the more glimpses of it she was seeing. As she luxuriated in her three-inch bath, she mulled over how he came off as a tough, no-nonsense kind of guy, the lonesome cowboy in an urban jungle, but in reality, he was very tuned in to the people around him. And he was a
very
resourceful man. Was there anything he could not do?

But what she liked most of all was that he was, in his own uniquely gruff way, very caring of her.

How frustrating it was that she'd see these pieces of him and feel that she was getting closer to him, and then the walls would come up and shut her off. She kept thinking back to last night, when he had gotten so angry with her. She had forgiven him that outburst today, because she understood that he'd been wounded. Lost loves could really mess with a person's head.

What bothered her was that he hadn't moved past it.

Whoever the bitch was that had jilted him so heartlessly had done a damn good job of it—the man was absolutely terrified of love.

That really sucked, because she had fallen in love with him. Soaking in a bath he'd made for her after winning her this cabin, which was probably the nicest, sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her, she would admit that she had, wholeheartedly, fallen in love with the lonesome cowboy. Which was why she really couldn't abide his erecting walls when she got close.

Eli needed help letting go of the past. Marnie was all for helping—she just wasn't sure how. That sort of damage was well out of her realm of experience. But instinctively, she knew she could not be the one to hold back.

So when Eli knocked on the door and said he had more water, Marnie smiled and called for him to come in. He opened the door and poked his head inside and seemed slightly taken aback that Marnie had made no attempt to cover herself. He stood in the doorway, holding a bucket of steaming water, his blue eyes greedily taking in every inch of her.

She sat up, gripping the sides of the old claw-foot tub. "Would you pour it on my hair? I don't think I got all the soap out."

A corner of his mouth tipped up. Being the man of few words that he was, he walked in and took a seat on the edge of the tub. Marnie couldn't see him, but she could feel his hand on her hair, his fingers sliding through the wet tresses, then his hand on her shoulder, moving her wet hair to her back, his fingers trailing lightly down her neck.

"Ready?" he drawled behind her.

Marnie nodded. The stream of hot water caught her off guard; she arched her back, dipped her head back and closed her eyes as he poured water through her hair, using his hand to help the rinsing along, lifting her hair and guiding the water over it. When he had finished, he put the bucket down, slowly lowered her hair, then laid his hands on her shoulders, massaging them, caressing her arms, her chest, her neck. His touch was tender and lingering, and Marnie knew that even though he fought the desire to love her, he couldn't quite distance himself, either.

She closed her eyes, leaned her head against his hand, and murmured, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He ran his hand over the top of her head, stood up, and walked out without looking back. Marnie leaned back against the smooth curve of the tub, her fingers curling around the ends of her hair, her imagination running wild with an image of her in the back room of some saloon, her handsome cowboy bathing her, his hands running up and down her body…

She emerged from the bath a few minutes later wrapped in a thick terry robe, her hair wrapped in an even thicker towel. The cabin was dark, save for the light of a roaring fire, and Eli was seated in one of the two leather chairs facing the hearth. On a small granite table between the two chairs were a bottle of champagne, a heel of bread, and about two ounces of Camembert cheese.

Marnie grinned. "You are a miracle worker. Where did you get champagne?"

He smiled and poured some into a fine crystal flute. "Our illustrious couple was holding out. It was under the bed with some other things they apparently meant to trot out for the ceremony, including these flutes."

Marnie picked one up and looked at the tiny stamp on the bottom. "Waterford," she said. "Someone's bridal gift." She handed the flute to Eli, slid into the chair next to him, tucked her feet under her, and took the full glass he offered. "This is such a treat," she said, and lifted her glass in a mock toast. "You are obviously a man of mystery and surprises."