Chapter 37
T he knock came just as Lauren was folding the last of the blankets at the foot of the bed. Avaline stood in the doorway, cheeks pink from the cold, her breath curling in the air.
"Hey." Avaline smiled. "Mac sent me over. He needs you at the lodge."
"Oh, okay." She grabbed one of Mac's big flannel shirts hanging by the door, pulling it over her thermal shirt. The fabric was already broken in and soft, smelling faintly of him. A stocking cap went over her braids, and she tugged on her boots before stepping outside.
The chill hit her immediately, and she hugged the flannel tight around her. "It seems like the temperatures dropped overnight."
"There was frost on everything this morning when I walked over to start the fire in the lodge," said Avaline.
Mac had once told her that on the Bitterroot Mountain Range, fall and winter didn't politely take turns—they meshed, one season bleeding into the next without warning.
As they walked the path through the woods and came out the other side, she spotted Cord jogging away from the lodge, heading toward the pole building.
Lauren's gaze followed him until he disappeared around the corner.
Earlier, Mac had mentioned that his cousins were going to town and asked if she needed anything.
Truth was, she didn't. Mac had already stocked the cabin with everything they needed.
The only thing she'd been putting off was a trip down the mountain to charge her batteries at her apartment.
But she wasn't ready to leave him. Not even for a day. So far, besides the inconvenience of hooking Starlink up to her Jeep and running it for twenty minutes, which gave her enough time to slowly upload a video.
Mac had tried to convince her to use the satellite connection they had for the campground, but she didn't want to impose. Somehow, she needed to figure out a way to do her job.
"I have to confess." Avaline glanced at her. "I'm jealous of your hair. Those braids are perfect. That's something I've tried to learn, but I can't get the hang of doing it on myself."
Lauren smiled. "Two Dutch braids are easier than one French braid. I can do yours if you want."
Avaline's eyes lit up. "Yes. I can pay you."
"Absolutely not," she said. "I'll check in with Mac, but afterward, if you're not busy, I can do it for you."
"I'm excited." Avaline glanced at her. "I used to have to wear my hair up when I worked in town and would gather it all in a low bun because I couldn't style it any other way, but here I let it hang loose."
"How long have you worked here?"
"Since the beginning of August," said Avaline.
She stopped walking. "I didn't know that. I thought you'd always worked here."
Avaline shook her head. "I'm starting over. New job. New location. New life."
"What was your previous job?"
"I was a CNA." Avaline's mouth thinned. "It seems like so long ago. But now I'm here. I do enjoy being on the mountain."
She nodded, but inside, she had many questions. Avaline wasn't connected to any of the Callahan men. It was quite a job change for what she would assume was a pay difference. Avaline lived alone in a cabin, roughing it more than Lauren now that she was living with Mac.
Not wanting to pry, she kept her questions to herself. Maybe someday, Avaline would trust her enough to share her story about how she came to live on the mountain.
They reached the lodge, and Lauren stepped inside—then stopped.
The entire interior glowed. A hundred white candles flickered from every surface—the mantel, the counter, the tables, and even the windowsills—casting warm light over the log walls and polished wood floors.
She turned to ask what was going on, but Avaline was already slipping away, following Cord's path toward the pole building.
Lauren looked back into the lodge, searching for Mac. She found him sitting on the hearth of the stone fireplace, the fire behind him burning low, his eyes fixed on her.
The sight of him there, framed in candlelight, made her heart stumble in her chest.
The glow of the candles made the lodge feel softer and warmer, as if the walls themselves were leaning in to listen. Lauren stepped inside, her gaze fixed on Mac.
He watched her approach, his expression unreadable. Butterflies took flight in her stomach.
"Is everything okay?" she whispered.
"I'm not the romantic type," he said, his voice low, "but I figured an occasion like this called for... a little something."
Her pulse quickened. "What occasion?"
He glanced around the room, as if seeing it through her eyes. "Cord told me that candles can be romantic. We have boxes full in storage because campers never bring enough light sources with them, and they're used to having electricity."
The way he said it, like he wasn't sure if he'd gotten it right, made her chest ache in the best way. He was trying. For her.
The fact that he set out white emergency candles endeared him to her even more.
She crossed the room and sat beside him on the hearth, close enough to feel the heat from the fire. "It's lovely," she said, meaning it.
He nodded, looking down for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "I've been thinking... about you being here. About how it's changed you and me. The way we've had to learn how to live under one roof."
Her breath caught. Was he changing his mind about her living with him?
Since being here, she'd fallen more in love with him. They literally spent every second together. They'd hiked and fished. He'd shown her how to ride on the back of his motorcycle. She looked forward to seeing the snow and riding snowmobiles.
At night, after making love, he'd stay awake and listen to her talk. It wouldn't matter if she were talking about the way her hair wouldn't curl that morning, to bigger things like the state of the world or her dreams for the future. He always listened to her.
"Are you happy here?" he asked.
She didn't hesitate. "Yes. I am."
He exhaled slowly. "Then I'd like to make it permanent."
Her heart thudded. They were moving so fast. Winter hadn't even arrived yet. They hadn't figured out if they'd survive living with each other on the mountain with only themselves for company.
"Will you marry me?"
She gasped. For a moment, she couldn't speak. The words she'd dreamed of hearing were right there, hanging in the air between them, wrapped in the scent of candle wax. A lot of candle wax.
She reached for his hand, her fingers curling around his. "I love you," she said softly. "And I would love to marry you..."
Her voice faltered, the truth pressing hard against her ribs.
"...but I can't."