Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(25)

“Really? Nothing?”

“All I know is that she seems happy, like truly happy. Not giddy or overexcited. Just—in a good place with it. With him.”

Liza’s smile deepened. “That’s good. That’s great.”

She glanced back outside. “They should be here soon. And we’ll see for ourselves.”

Liza’s smile dimmed as she brought her forefingers to her temples. “I’m going to take a shower and then lie down, try to rally. See you at dinner?”

Hannah almost brought up the blog she’d read, but then held her tongue. Why introduce negativity? She gave Liza’s hand a final squeeze, then moved away.

Poor Liza. At the best of times, she always seemed so shimmery and barely there, overpowered by Mako and the volume of his being. Now it seemed like she could just disappear altogether.

“Just shout if you need me,” said Hannah moving toward the stairs. What did the kids call it these days? Sweaty tryhard? When you bent over backward to get someone to like you?

But Liza had taken her phone from her pocket and was looking at the screen, didn’t seem to hear.

Hannah climbed the floating staircase, passed some framed black-and-white images of wildlife—a stag on a ridge, a black bear with her cubs, a mountain lion staring at his reflection in a puddle—then stepped onto the carpet runner over the hardwood floors.

Everything was pristine, walls seemed freshly painted, not a hint of dust or grime. Most vacation rentals had the air of being overused. Not this place.

Over the railing, she looked down on the great room. The vaulted ceiling towered, a huge wrought iron chandelier hanging from its height. There was some kind of strange sculpture hanging near the dining room table—it looked like an animal skull surrounded by bleached wood. She’d have to get a closer look when she went back downstairs.

There was a long table outside the door to Bruce and Hannah’s room, grained wood, varnished, atop it were three carved white statues of deer—a stag, a doe, and a fawn. She picked up the tiniest one; it was smooth and cool to the touch, surprisingly heavy. She looked at it more closely and saw that it was porous, oddly grained. Not stone or wood.

Bone, she realized suddenly. It was bone. She put it down quickly, almost toppling the other two.

Bruce came up behind her, carrying their bags, startling her.

“You good?” he asked with a smile. She was easily startled; it was a known thing between them.

“These are made from bone.”

He looked at the statues as he passed. “Huh. Weird.”

“Do people do that? Make things from bone?”

He shrugged. “I guess?”

Hannah decided to drop the topic but she had the urge to wash her hands.

Downstairs she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart leapt, thinking that it might be Cricket already. But when she looked over the landing, she saw Liza hesitating at the entrance. Finally, Liza opened the door and let a large outdoorsy-looking man inside.

Their voices were soft and Hannah couldn’t hear what they were saying. When he stepped into view, she recognized him as the man who built the houses, the host.

Liza looked tiny next to him, and he seemed to be standing too close to her. Should she go down?

“Wow,” said Bruce from inside the room, distracting Hannah from Liza.

She stepped over the threshold and drew in a breath.

A huge four-poster bed piled high with plush pillows, fireplace, a cozy sitting area looking out onto a private balcony, colorful area rugs, more wildlife photographs and thankfully no mounted animal heads. The wood floors shined as she walked over them to the spacious bathroom—a steam shower, a soaking tub, stacks of fat white towels. If it were up to her they wouldn’t leave the room for the next seventy-two hours except to eat. In the air, the slightest mingling of sage and lemon.

Hannah felt her body relax. Okay. This might be just what the doctor ordered, after all. Maybe there was a method to Mako’s madness.

Bruce closed the door then sat himself on the plush sofa for a moment, then got up to open the sliding door that led out to a big deck.

She went out on the balcony to join her husband, took in the cool of the air, the rustle of leaves. The afternoon light was starting to wane; the mountains were purple in the distance.

“This is—something,” Bruce said.

“Leave it to Mako,” she said. “Nothing but the best.”

She felt rather than saw Bruce frowning.

He had a hard time relaxing in general, his mind always turning—she knew that. His work was complicated, consuming—yes, lots of difficult clients. He was more comfortable with code than he was with most people. She accepted that about him; a weekend surrounded by people was not something he’d have chosen. Even if he hadn’t caught her snooping; even if they hadn’t been arguing.

“Look, I get it. You’re not having an affair,” she whispered, not sure what could be heard from the deck below them. “So what is it then? Talk to me and let me help, okay?”

He motioned for her to come back inside and she followed. Bruce flipped on the switch that turned on the fireplace and it flamed to life. He sat on the sofa and she melted in beside him, feeling his arms close around her. He released a deep breath.

“Doesn’t this just seem like—too much?” he said.

“How so?”