Genevieve
Istared out the window of the cabin, taking in the surrounding forest. The evergreens towered above us. The forest floor was dusted with a thin layer of snow. And even though I couldn’t see it through the trees, I pictured the lake in the distance, long and wide and deep blue.
The town was smaller than Clifton Forge. Cozier. Coming here was the escape I’d needed. Here, there weren’t motorcycle gangs—former or current. Here, the memory of my mother’s murder seemed further away. Here, maybe Isaiah would finally open up to me about what had been bothering him for weeks.
“Remind me why you picked Clifton Forge? Because Lark Cove is gorgeous.” Like, I want to live here instead gorgeous.
“I went where there was work.” Isaiah kept his head down, studying the coffee table. Eye contact over the past three weeks had been nearly nonexistent.
“I like this cabin.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Better than the last one we were in together.”
That got his attention. He looked over at me on the opposite end of the couch. My heart would have soared at a grin. I would have taken a frown. I was desperate for any reaction other than that fucking blank stare.
Gah! Why? I was about to leap across the couch and strangle him with my bare hands until he surrendered and told me what had happened when I’d been sick.
I remembered him coming to get me from the office. I remembered the massive surge of anxiety emanating off him as he drove me home. And I remembered him putting me to bed.
My nasty fever had taken two days to break. When I’d emerged from the haze, the Isaiah who’d grinned was gone. In his place was the shell of my friend. It was worse than it had been even in the early days of our marriage.
It had only gotten worse on the drive to Lark Cove.
Isaiah had asked me to drive. I was happy to, thinking maybe with some time trapped in the car, he would finally relax enough to tell me what was wrong.
The road trips I’d taken with Mom as a kid had been filled with nonstop conversation.
But this was hour after hour of silence.
Even with the radio on, the quiet screamed.
His hands stayed braced on his knees the entire trip, his tattooed knuckles white as he gripped his legs. I made the mistake of looking at him once and asking if he was all right.
Eyes on the road.
Those were the only words he spoke to me besides turn left, next right and keep going straight.
By the time we reached Lark Cove, I was nearly in tears.
Where was Isaiah? My Isaiah? I thought we’d learned to rely on one another.
Or had it just been me leaning on him this entire time?
Did I give him no comfort? No strength? Would he ever trust me with the truth?
There was only so much prying I could do.
At some point, he had to put his faith in me, like I’d done with him.
Was it the holiday in general that had set him off? Did Isaiah not like Thanksgiving? He hadn’t seemed anxious around his mom, but was there something going on with his brother? Maybe this trip was causing him stress.
I convinced myself Isaiah hated turkey and stuffing and pumpkin pie. After all, I hadn’t done anything wrong except catch a bad cold. His attitude had nothing to do with me at all, right?
Wrong.
I pulled into Kaine and Piper’s driveway behind Suzanne’s Blazer and hadn’t even shut off the car when the front door to their home opened. A man who had to be Kaine stepped out. He held two boys in his arms, both squirming and waving and laughing. Kaine smiled.
Isaiah smiled.
An actual, full smile, so stunning that tears flooded my eyes. The smile transformed Isaiah’s face. He looked years younger. He was a thousand times more beautiful. The joy at seeing his brother broke through his cloud of sorrow—then faded as quickly as it had appeared.
When he unbuckled his seat belt and glanced at me, the sullen mood came roaring back.
I put on a brave face, hiding the fact that he’d just cracked my heart.
The trip was long and we arrived at twilight. We hurried to haul our things inside before dark, then went through a flurry of introductions with Kaine and Piper and their twins. Suzanne wrapped me in a hug, strong and tight, that nearly crushed me. It was the hug of a mother.
I wasn’t ready for those yet, not even from my mother-in-law.
So I focused on the kids, playing with them on the carpet before dinner.
Kaine was quiet, like his brother. Every now and then, he’d look at me with an odd expression like he wasn’t sure where I’d come from. I caught the same look from Piper.
Everyone knew something I didn’t. Something big.
What? What was it? Maybe I should have added Isaiah’s name to my research notebook after all. But I wanted so badly for him to be the one to tell me. I wanted at least a piece of our relationship to be true and honest.
Except this was just another weekend to pretend. Isaiah held my hand when they were around, but there was no desperation in his grip.
We ate a delicious dinner after arriving, then escaped to this cabin, the home that had been Kaine’s before Piper had moved in next door and the two had gotten together.
I slept in the bed, Isaiah on this couch. He made sure to get up early and stow away the blanket and pillow. Not wanting to wake the other house if they were still asleep, we’d spent the past hour on the couch, drinking coffee, barely speaking a word.
I stared at the forest and occasionally his profile.
Isaiah was memorizing the wood-grain pattern of the coffee table like there’d be a quiz later.
My first Thanksgiving without Mom would be hard enough this year without those blank stares from my husband. We were in a strange—yet breathtaking—place with people I’d met yesterday, and the ache I had for Mom’s presence was nearly unbearable.
The holidays would be excruciating this year. Not once in my twenty-seven years had I spent a Christmas or Thanksgiving without my mom.
Thanksgiving had been her favorite while I’d preferred Christmas—presents and all. Our Thanksgiving tradition was to spend the entire day in the kitchen, preparing a feast. Often, it was only the two of us there to eat and we’d have leftovers for a week.
There’d be no cooking for me today. I’d offer to help out of politeness and pray my assistance was declined. And I’d endure Isaiah’s silence like it didn’t bother me in the slightest.
Something had flipped a switch in Isaiah, but what? Had I said something when I was sick that had upset him? I wished I could remember. Damn my stubbornness, I wouldn’t ask either. He’d only shoot me down.
“I’m going to get dressed.” I stood from the couch. “Then do you want to go over?”
He nodded, his eyes glued to his empty mug.
What did I do? Tell me. Please. What did I do?
He stared at the table.
I’d lost him.
My heart broke. My feelings toward Isaiah, the ones I wasn’t ready to acknowledge, shattered.
I disappeared into the bedroom at the back of the house and pulled on some jeans and a sweater. I swiped on some deodorant, having showered last night. With my hair braided and hanging over one shoulder, I came out of the bedroom with my shoes in hand just in time to see Isaiah open the door.
“Morning.” Kaine slapped him on the shoulder and stomped his boots dry on the mat as he came inside. When he spotted me, he said, “Morning, Genevieve. How’d you sleep?”
“Great,” I lied. “Thanks again for having us.”
“Glad you could make it up.” Kaine ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it off his forehead.
There were similarities between the Reynolds brothers, but they weren’t mirror images.
Kaine’s hair was longer and his face was covered with a dark beard.
They had the same eyes, only Kaine’s were happy and full of life.
Whenever he’d spotted Piper from across the room last night, they’d brimmed with love.
It was the same when he’d looked upon his boys.
Kaine ducked to the window in the living room that overlooked the front of the cabin. Outside, Gabe and Robbie were playing.
There wasn’t as much snow here as there was in Clifton Forge, but both boys were decked out in head-to-toe snow gear. Bibs. Puffy coats. Boots. Hats with earflaps. Mittens. All I could see were chubby cheeks, red noses, bright eyes and shining smiles.
They were the perfect picture.
Those twins made me want a pair of my own someday. A family that was mine. A love to fill the open void.
“Piper wants a Christmas tree,” Kaine said. “I told the boys we’d go hunting for one. Want to come along?”
“Sure.” Isaiah nodded, standing side by side with his brother. They were both about the same height, an inch or two over six feet tall.
“Genevieve?”
I’d never been Christmas tree hunting. Mine always came from whatever church or youth camp stand was set up in the grocery store parking lot in Denver. Yes, I wanted to go. A new adventure sounded like a wonderful distraction.
But the one person who made Isaiah seem happy was his brother. Maybe if I wasn’t around, he’d have some time to actually enjoy it and not feel the need to pretend with me.
“You guys go ahead. I didn’t bring enough warm stuff to go traipsing through the mountains.”
“Piper has lots of stuff you could borrow,” Kaine offered.
“That’s okay. I’ll go over and see what I can do to help.”
Isaiah took our coats down from the hook beside the door. I quickly pulled on my boots, then stood as he helped me into my coat. It probably looked sweet, a husband helping bundle up his wife.
Except Isaiah took care not to touch me, not even to brush my sweater with his knuckles. Kaine didn’t notice, but I did.
“Do you want a tree?” Isaiah asked as he zipped up his own coat and pulled a beanie over his head.
“Could we even get it home?”
“We can hook it to the top of the car.”
“That would be nice.” Now that my painting project was done, I was out of things to keep me busy at night. Decorating a tree would occupy at least one night and give me a task to block out Isaiah’s cold shoulder.