6. Jace
Jace Wilder had never been afraid of silence.
Silence was simple.
Reliable.
Honest.
A quiet cabin. Snow melting from pine branches. Coffee dripping into the pot. Firewood settling beside the hearth.
Silence had never demanded anything from him.
Until Sophie Lane sat across from him at the kitchen island wearing his flannel, her hair still tousled from his bed, looking down at a dead phone like it might explode the second she turned it on.
Then silence became unbearable.
Jace poured coffee into two mugs because his hands needed something to do.
The storm had passed during the night. Morning sunlight poured over the snow outside, turning the whole mountain bright and clean. The kind of morning that made a man believe everything could be simple if he worked hard enough and kept his mouth shut.
Except Sophie’s car was still in a ditch.
Her wedding was still wrecked.
Her phone was still full of people who wanted explanations.
And Jace was standing in his kitchen wanting to keep a woman who had just run from a man who tried to manage her life.
That was the problem.
Wanting Sophie was easy.
Not becoming another man who pushed her toward what he wanted?
That was harder.
She picked up the phone charger, then set it down again.
“Maybe if I never turn it on, the wedding remains in a state of uncertainty.”
Jace leaned against the counter.
“That how it works?”
“Probably not. But I feel like science owes me something after the snowbank incident.”
“Physics already betrayed you once.”
“Exactly. It can redeem itself.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
She noticed, because she noticed everything.
Her expression softened for one second, and Jace felt it like a hand around his ribs.
Then a truck rumbled outside.
Sophie startled.
Jace looked through the front window and saw Eli from Maple Peak Towing pulling into the drive.
“Tow truck,” he said.
“Oh.”
One little word.
Small.
Careful.
Like the morning had just lost some of its warmth.
Jace hated it.
He grabbed his coat from the hook by the door.
“I’ll talk to him.”
Sophie stood quickly.
“I should come.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s my car.”
“And your pants are four sizes too big.”
She looked down at the sweatpants pooling around her ankles.
“That is a fair but hurtful observation.”
“You can stay warm.”
Her chin lifted.
“I am not hiding inside because a stranger might see me in borrowed clothes after fleeing a wedding.”
Jace looked at her.
Sophie looked back.
Right.
This was the woman who had sprinted out of a church in a wedding dress and one borrowed boot.
Hiding was not exactly her style.
He handed her one of his heavier coats.
“At least wear this.”
She slid into it, and the coat swallowed her almost as completely as the flannel had.
“I look like I’m being slowly eaten by outerwear.”
“Warm outerwear.”
“Again with the practicality.”
“Again with the snow.”
She zipped the coat with exaggerated dignity.
“Fine. Let’s go face the tow truck man.”
Eli Rivers was standing beside his truck when they stepped onto the porch. He was in his fifties, bearded, and wore the permanent expression of a man who had seen enough winter stupidity to stop being surprised by it.
His gaze moved from Jace to Sophie.
Then to the hem of Jace’s sweatpants dragging near her borrowed socks.
Then back to Jace.
“Well,” Eli said.
Sophie lifted one hand.
“Before you ask, yes, I am the bride.”
Eli blinked.
Sophie sighed.
“Sorry. That came out defensive. Good morning.”
Eli looked at Jace.
Jace shrugged.
“She’s had a long day.”
“It’s morning,” Eli said.
“Started yesterday.”
“Ah.”
Sophie smiled brightly.
“I’m Sophie. My car is in a snowbank, my dress is in a closet, and my emotional infrastructure is under renovation.”
Eli stared at her for a moment.
Then he nodded.
“Maple Peak’s seen worse.”
Sophie looked genuinely comforted.
“Has it?”
“No.”
Jace coughed into his fist.
Sophie shot him a look.
“That sounded suspiciously like almost-laughter.”
“Cold air.”
“Liar.”
Eli’s eyes narrowed with amusement, but he said nothing.
They climbed into Eli’s truck and drove down the mountain road toward Sophie’s abandoned car. Jace sat in the back because the front seat had more room for Sophie’s oversized coat situation.
He watched her from behind while Eli drove.
Bad idea.
He could see the tension in her shoulders. The way her fingers twisted together in her lap. The way she kept glancing toward the glove compartment where her phone would have been if she were in her own car.
She was bracing herself.
For the car.
For the calls.
For the life she had to untangle.
For leaving.
Jace looked out the window.
The thought punched through him harder than it should have.
By the time they reached the car, Maple Peak Road had been plowed enough for safe passage. Sophie’s sedan sat nose-first in the snowbank, veil still trailing out of the passenger door like the aftermath of a bridal ghost attack.
Eli stopped the truck.
Sophie stared.
“Oh good. It’s worse in daylight.”
Jace climbed out first, then helped her down. Eli walked around the sedan with professional interest.
“Seen a lot of stuck cars,” he said. “Not many with veil deployment.”
Sophie covered her face.
“I am begging this town not to make that phrase a thing.”
Eli hooked the tow cable to the car.
Jace went to check the front bumper. The damage was minor. The car would drive after a pull and a basic look at the wheel alignment. He should have felt relieved.
Instead, something cold settled in his gut.
This was the thing about fixing problems.
Eventually, the problem was fixed.
Then people left.
Sophie came up beside him, careful in the snow.
“How bad is it?”
“Not bad.”
“Really?”
“Tow gets it out, you can probably drive it into town.”
Her expression flickered.
Not relief.
Not exactly.
“Great,” she said.
Jace looked at her.
She forced a smile.
“Great is good. Good is great. Excellent verbal performance from me.”
“Sophie.”
“I know. No lying about being fine.” She shoved her hands into the coat pockets. “I’m not fine. But I’m… functioning adjacent.”
He wanted to touch her.
He didn’t.
Eli’s phone buzzed while he worked the winch. He checked the screen, then glanced at Sophie.
Sophie went still.
“What?”
Eli grimaced.
“Nothing.”
Jace’s body sharpened.
“Eli.”
The older man sighed.
“Looks like somebody posted a video from the church.”
Sophie closed her eyes.
“Oh no.”
Eli looked uncomfortable.
“Small town groups picked it up. Folks are talking.”
Jace held out a hand.
Eli gave him the phone.
There it was.
A shaky video filmed from the back of a church.
Sophie in her wedding dress, turning around halfway down the aisle.
Her mother rising from the front pew.
A bridesmaid in purple boots sprinting after her.
A caption beneath the video read:
RUNAWAY brIDE DOES IT AGAIN. SECOND TIME’S THE CHARM?
Jace’s jaw locked.
Sophie opened one eye.
“How bad?”
He put the phone down at his side.
“Bad caption.”
She winced.
“Is my left side okay?”
“What?”
“In the video. If I’m going to be publicly humiliated, I’d like to know whether my profile survived.”
Eli made a strangled sound.
Jace stared at her.
Then Sophie laughed once, too bright and brittle.
“Sorry. Joking. Coping. Possibly spiraling.”
Jace stepped between her and Eli, not because Eli was a threat, but because Sophie looked like she needed fewer eyes on her.
“You don’t have to look at it.”
“I do eventually.”
“Not now.”
Her gaze lifted to his.
For a second, she looked so tired he almost broke.
Then she nodded.
“Not now.”
Eli cleared his throat.
“I’ll pull the car out, take it to the shop in town. Let Caleb check it over.”
Jace nodded.
“I’ll drive her.”
Sophie’s eyes widened slightly.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
There it was again.
That softness in her face.
That hope.
Jace felt it and immediately knew he was in trouble.
Because the selfish part of him wanted to say more.
Wanted to say he would drive her anywhere, stand beside her through every call, tell Preston Whitaker exactly where to put his calm voice, and bring Sophie back to his cabin afterward.
Back to his bed.
Back to his life.
But Sophie had not even spoken about her own future out loud yet, so Jace did the one thing that felt right and hurt like hell.
He gave her space.
After Eli pulled the car free, Jace drove Sophie into Maple Peak.
The town looked charming under fresh snow. Brick storefronts. Warm windows. Smoke drifting from chimneys. Pine garlands still hanging from lampposts even though Christmas had passed weeks ago.
Sophie stared out the window like a woman arriving in a different life.
Jace parked near Maple Peak Diner because it was warm, public, and had landline phones if she needed one.
Also pie.
He suspected pie might help.
Sophie looked at the diner sign.
“This town has an aggressively cozy aesthetic.”
“Yeah.”
“Is everyone inside going to know I’m the viral runaway bride?”
“Probably.”
She groaned.
Jace turned toward her.
“I’ll go in first.”
She looked at him.
“And what? Announce that the bride is sensitive to gossip and should be handled with care?”
“If needed.”
Her mouth twitched.
“Tempting.”
He leaned back in his seat, gripping the steering wheel.
“You can make calls from there. Or from my cabin. Or you can use my truck and drive wherever you need to go.”
Her smile faded.
“Drive wherever I need to go.”
“Yeah.”
“Meaning away.”
Jace’s chest tightened.
“Meaning wherever you decide.”
She looked down at her hands.
The silence between them changed.
He hated it immediately.
“Sophie.”
“No, that’s good.” Her voice had gone light again, which he was beginning to recognize as a bad sign. “Very healthy. Mature. Choice-forward.”
“That’s not—”
“No, I get it.” She reached for the door handle, then stopped and looked back at him. “You’re giving me room.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s kind.”
He said nothing.
Her eyes shone.
“So why does it feel so much like being let go?”
The words hit hard enough to leave him silent.
Jace opened his mouth.
Nothing useful came out.
Because what could he say?
That he wanted her to stay so badly he didn’t trust himself to ask?
That the idea of her leaving made his cabin feel empty before she had even gone?
That he had known her one day and already wanted to build a future around her laughter, her chaos, and the bouquet in his window?
She had just run from a man who thought loving her meant deciding for her.
Jace would not be another one.
Even if holding back cost him.
Sophie waited.
He saw the hope slowly fade from her face.
Then she nodded.
“Right.”
She opened the truck door.
Cold air rushed in.
Jace moved fast, climbing out and coming around to help her down because instinct beat pain.
She let him.
But the moment her boots touched the snowy sidewalk, she stepped back.
Not far.
Enough.
“You’re very good at rescuing women from snowbanks,” she said softly. “Less good at making them feel wanted afterward.”
Jace flinched.
She seemed to regret it instantly, but she did not take it back.
Good.
Maybe she shouldn’t.
He watched her gather the too-large coat tighter around herself and walk into the diner alone.
The bell above the diner door jingled.
Warm light swallowed her.
Jace stood on the sidewalk, snow falling around him, and felt something inside his chest go painfully quiet.
He had done the right thing.
The respectful thing.
The careful thing.
So why did it feel like he had just watched the best thing that had ever walked into his life walk away?
Eli’s tow truck rolled slowly past with Sophie’s car hooked behind it.
The veil still hung from the passenger door, fluttering in the cold wind like a surrender flag.
Jace stared at it.
Then he swore under his breath.
Because the truth was suddenly obvious.
Letting Sophie choose did not mean pretending he had no choice of his own.
And if he let her think he didn’t want her, he was not respecting her freedom.
He was just protecting his fear.
***