Page 31

Me:

I'm going.

Mom:

RIGHT NOW.

Me:

I'm going right now.

Mom:

Take the cider.

Boots on. Keys off the hook. The truck starts on the second try, cold engine catching in the October air. A jug of cider from the barn goes on the passenger seat because my mother told me to and I'm done arguing with women who know better than me.

The drive to town takes twelve minutes. Twelve minutes of dirt road turning to gravel turning to pavement. Twelve minutes of rehearsing words I've never been good at saying.

Mountain Haven Inn. Carol's car in the lot, a couple of others. Room 12 is on the second floor, corner, facing the mountains. I know because I know this town. I know everything about this town except how to keep a woman in it.

Carol looks up from the front desk when I walk in. Her eyebrows climb.

"Well," she says. "About time."

"Room 12?"

"She's up. Been up since five." Carol slides a room key across the counter. "Spare. For emergencies. This counts."

The stairs creak under my boots. The hallway is quiet. Room 12 is at the end, door closed. Light spilling from underneath.

My knuckles hit the door before I can overthink it.

Footsteps inside. The lock turns. The door opens.

She's wearing my flannel. Hair loose, eyes red-rimmed, bare legs, coffee in one hand. The flannel is buttoned wrong, one side hanging lower than the other, collar open at her throat.

The most beautiful thing I've ever seen on my worst morning.

"Deck?"

"Can I come in?"

She steps back. The room is small. Bed made, laptop open on the desk, camera bag on the chair. Her suitcase is by the closet. Not packed. Not unpacked. Just sitting there, waiting for a direction.

The cider jug is still in my hand. I set it on the desk next to her laptop.

"I brought cider."

Her eyes flick to the jug, then back to me. "At seven in the morning."

"My mom told me to."

That almost gets a smile. Almost. Her eyes are guarded in a way I haven't seen since the first day, when she was on her back in the dirt and I was a stranger with a knife.

"I was wrong," I say.

Her breath catches. She wraps both hands around the coffee mug. Holds it against her chest.