The Hermit Read Online Free PDF

caught it.  Standing back up to his full height, he
realized she was plastered against the counter several feet away. 
     
    “I’m
sorry, Daphne.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”  He pointed to her feet in his socks,
“I was worried about the glass breaking.  You’re not wearing shoes.” 
     
    She nodded
slowly and he watched as she forced her muscles to relax one at a time until
she could move back to the counter again.  After several controlled breaths,
she went back to drying dishes.  Later, he was happy to see her step out onto
the porch as he was bringing in wood.  Perching carefully against the railing,
she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 
     
    The
sound of his foot on the bottom step brought her eyes open.  “It surprises me
that I still find it so beautiful here.”
     
    “The
place isn’t to blame.  Scum was responsible for what happened to you and your
husband.  I’m glad you still see the beauty around you.”  Ryan gave her a small
nod and moved into the house, saying over his shoulder, “I’m going to make
lunch soon.  Pull on one of my heavier coats if you’re going to stay out for a
bit.”  Before she could, he reached just inside the door, his arm coming out
with a jacket lined in sheep skin.  “This should keep you snug.” 
     
    “Thank
you.  Again.  Thank you again, Ryan.”
     
    “My
pleasure, Daphne.  Let me put this wood down and make you some food.”  Then he
was gone and she tracked his movements around the small cabin. 
     
    Instead
of seeing the scenery around her, she contemplated the man inside.  Ryan
Wallace was an enigma to her.  Not even Steven had treated her as kindly.  Part
of her felt disloyal thinking negative thoughts of her dead husband but the
part that had come into being during her time as a captive realized in
hindsight that Steven had been something of a misogynist ass. 
     
    Daphne
wouldn’t pretend otherwise.  Not anymore.  No one would ever tear her down like
the man who’d promised to love and cherish her had in a thousand small ways
during their time together.  She was physically weaker than she’d ever been in
her life but she knew the core of her being had now been forged in steel. 
     
    No one
was ever going to hurt her again. 
     
     
    That
evening, they sat in silence while Ryan read one of the many books he had on
shelves around the cabin.  Titles by James Patterson, Dean Koontz, and Neil
Gaiman were similar to what had once decorated her own office in the little
house she’d shared with Steven.  A stereo system played soft classical music
that filled the room with warmth, adding to the heat from the fire.
     
    Daphne
watched him, too tired to choose a book of her own.  He had showered earlier
and trimmed his beard.  He was very tall with a lean body under a soft t-shirt
and jeans.  Thick socks covered long feet.  There was nothing wasted on his
frame. 
     
    The
intensity he focused on the book was incredible and he read ridiculously fast. 
Watching him didn’t bore her.  It gave her a feeling of safety and relaxation
she had been so long without.  After an hour, she began to doze and didn’t
remember falling asleep. 
     
    Ryan
watched as Daphne’s eyes drifted shut a final time.  He waited, finishing his
chapter and making sure she was deeply asleep.  Instead of turning off the
stereo, he turned it down low to soothe her as she slept then approached the
couch.  Tucking her snugly under the quilt she seemed to prefer, he stood
staring down at her for a long time. 
     
    Daphne
wasn’t well but she looked so much better than she had the first time he’d seen
her. 
     
    With a
small sign, he added another log to the fire and locked up the cabin.  He turned
all but the bathroom light off.  That combined with the light from the fire
would help her navigate.  Checking on her one last time, he whispered,
“Goodnight, Daphne.”
     
    Walking
into the only other room of his compact cabin, he