Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Gina
The plow rattles down the mountain, chains clinking over ice, and I sit in the passenger’s seat beside Gus, with my hands folded tightly in my lap. The heater hums, but I can’t stop shivering. Maybe it’s the cold—or maybe it’s the hollow ache that started the minute I walked out of Wyatt’s cabin.
He’s probably in the shower right now, humming under his breath, oblivious to the fact that I’m gone. Or maybe he noticed. Maybe he didn’t. Either way, leaving was the only thing I could do before I made a complete fool of myself begging him to let me stay.
I have to take the gift I’ve been given and cherish it. Wyatt showed me something I’d stopped believing in—that it’s possible to be accepted just as I am and someone could love me.
My pulse races at the word love.
What I wouldn’t give to be loved by a man like Wyatt.
The truck slows, snow spraying up from the blade. Gus pulls on a pair of gloves and turns to me, “Would you mind if I get out here for a few. I’ve got a couple of friends up here who can’t shovel for themselves.”
“Of course not,” I say, forcing a smile. “You go right ahead. You’re the one doing a favor for me.”
He nods and hops out, leaving me alone with the hum of the engine. I stare out at the trees dusted white, blinking back the tears that keep threatening to fall. Lucky’s probably curled by the fire right now. Wyatt’s probably drinking coffee, glad to have his place all to himself.
When Gus climbs back in, I swipe a stray tear off my cheek.
“You alright, hon?”
“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “I think I got something in my eye.”
“Mmm.” He starts the plow again, the sound of the dropped plow rumbling in my chest.
We drive in silence for a while, until he asks, “How long have you known Wyatt?”
The question startles me. “Who said I know Wyatt?”
“You came running down his drive.” He says as a matter of fact.
“He saved my life,” I stare at my silly flats.
“Is that so? How’d he do that?”
“Well, I was trying to take a picture of an eagle when I stepped onto a ledge and slipped. My coat got tangled in a tree while I was dangling in mid-air. Thankfully, Wyatt was nearby and came to my rescue.”
“I see,” he pops a toothpick in his mouth. “So, you’re a photographer,” he says, chewing on the thin piece of wood.
“I am.”
He glances at the seat beside me. “Where’s your camera?”
My stomach knots. “I forgot it.”
“I can turn around and go back for it if you want.”
“No!” I blurt. “It’s fine. I have plenty of cameras.”
Which is the biggest lie I’ve ever told. That camera is my livelihood—and the only one I own.
“Uh-huh.” Gus chuckles. “Just so you know, I’m not buyin’ what you’re tryin’ to sell.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head with his eyes still on the road. “You’re on the run.”
“On the run?” I laugh weakly. “I’m not on the run.”
“Sure, you are. You’re runnin’ from love.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve seen that look before. Wore it myself once.” His grin softens. “Lucky for me, my Trudy got me sorted out real quick. Forty-two years later, we’re still together.”
“That’s nice,” I whisper, turning to look out the window. The snow-covered trees blur together. Maybe I’ll move to Florida, where it never snows—because now, snow will forever remind me of Wyatt.
“But I’m not in love,” I add, though my voice doesn’t sound convincing even to me.
“Keep tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart,” Gus says kindly. “Just don’t go near no mirrors ‘cause it’s written plain as day all over your face.”
Before I can think of a witty denial to offer, the truck begins to slow.
“What in the world?” Gus leans over the wheel. Up ahead, a green pickup sits sideways across the road, blocking the way.
He frowns. “That fool better not be stuck—”
The words die in his throat as my door yanks open and a rush of cold air hits my face. Then I’m flying—literally flying—through the air before landing against a wall of solid muscle that smells of cedar and pine.
“Wyatt!”
He’s got me slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour, his arm banded tight around my legs.
“What are you doing?” I sputter, pounding on his back.
“I’m puttin’ you in my truck, Red.” He growls. “You had no business leaving without a proper goodbye.”
“What? Put. Me. Down!”
He doesn’t slow down. Snow crunches under his boots as he stalks through the drifts. Gus chuckles behind us.
When we reach Wyatt’s truck, he sets me down in front of him. His chest rises and falls, his eyes burning like storm clouds about to break.
“When I got out of the shower and found you gone,” he says, voice low, “it gutted me. Right down to the damn bone.”
“Wyatt—”
He grips my shoulders, leaning in close. “I want you with me. Every day. Every night. Winter, spring, summer, fall—whatever you want, I’ll make it happen. I don’t ever want to be without you again.”
He rests his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. “Please say you’ll stay.”
Tears spill over, running down my cheeks. “Do you mean it? Do you really want me to stay?”
He nods, his eyes fierce and unflinching. “I never say anything I don’t mean. And trust me, I mean every word. You make me feel alive. You make me want things I thought were gone for good. You finding this mountain was a gift.” He brushes my tears away with his thumb. “Please say you’ll stay.”
My heart nearly bursts. “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him—hard, laughing through the tears.
Somewhere behind us, Gus honks the horn. “Told you it was love!” he shouts, then waves and starts the plow back up the road.
Wyatt laughs, pulling me tighter. “It’s crazy, but Gus is right—I’m in love with you.”
“I love you, too.”
And right there, with snow swirling around us and his lips on mine, I realize—
I didn’t just find love.
I found home.