“I shouldn’t have answered Eli.”
“He asked because he knew, Summer.”
“I hurt him so bad,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.
“A breakup does that to people. You and Eli were barely more than kids, and you knew he’d take it hard, that’s why you waited so long.”
I might’ve hoped that being gone for college would dampen his neediness. That Eli would branch out and make other friends, but instead, the longer we were together, the more his life was about ranching and me. It wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t what I had wanted out of a relationship.
“This is going to sound callous,” Autumn said gently, “but Eli’s in the past. He’s gone, and he left a mess for you and Jonah.”
“I’m making Jonah feel worse, and I’m stuck here for days.”
“You are stuck together. So do what Mama used to make us do when we were arguing—put our chairs back-to-back and take turns saying ten nice things to each other.”
The giggle the memory inspired was out of place but much needed. I sighed. “He’s so angry.”
“I bet he is. It’s gotta be harder to be furious at his dead brother than at himself.”
And I made an even better target. A deserving target. He hadn’t had the last fifteen years to get over the revelation. I’d taken that from him.
Jonah was outside. The wind continued to rage and throw snow in whatever direction it wanted. Things close to the house were still visible, but beyond, where a valley should stretch across to the mountains sloping up on the other side, there was nothing but an angry snow globe. He’d gone into the elements to avoid me.
I went into the kitchen and pushed up the sleeves of my sweater. The power was still on. I could put food in the oven to cook and hope we had electricity until it was done.
I’d made a roast the last time I was here and he’d liked it. I’d do the same, using his onions and potatoes. Closer to lunch time, I could make a salad. Would he eat? Would I have to retreat upstairs for him to come inside and live like a normal person instead of an angry mountain man?
The scrape of metal on concrete told me the answer. Daddy used to say that shoveling before the storm was done was excellent practice in wasting effort. He used to love storms and his enthusiasm had eased my own fear. His thrill had helped me and all my sisters. We would drink hot chocolate and play games all day. The only stress was worrying about the animals, but Daddy had hidden much of the burden from us when it came time for chores, if chores could even be done.
Once I had lunch going, I pressed a hand to mystomach. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, but I’d wait, too mentally fatigued to eat while Jonah was making himself suffer.
I peered down at myself. I was in the same clothes as yesterday. The sweater and pajama pants would be okay, but I should wash my underclothes. I could roam around with no bra or underwear. Jonah wasn’t inside to look.
I retrieved any clothing of his I thought was dirty. The task had included going through his room to get the laundry basket and into the bathroom he used. Once I had enough to feel like I wasn’t wasting a load, I threw everything in.
Rolling my shoulders, I looked down. How obvious was it? I wasn’t a large-chested woman, but I’d always been happy with what I had. So had my partners. Still, it was weird to walk around his place, free-balling it.
What now?
He was out shoveling a drift that would be blown back in place and bigger than it had been before sunset. I couldn’t sit and watch a show. The talk with Autumn ran through my head. He was angry at Eli. Himself. And me.
I couldn’t sit inside while he was toiling away. I put on my coat, slipped my feet into my boots, and stuffed my hat on my head. I tugged my gloves on before walking through the house to the door that led into the garage.
Wind swirled through the garage. The big overhead doors were closed, but the door that led outside was open. Flakes swirled inside, and in the time Jonah had been out, a small drift had formed over the threshold.
“Stubborn damn man.” As I stepped into the windand got smacked in the face with a hundred prickles of snow, I couldn’t recall what I had planned to do when I got outside.
What was my goal? For Jonah not to hate me? I didn’t care for myself, or for what I’d done to Eli. My parents had always said honesty was the best policy, but being honest that day had cost me. The entire Dunn family had paid. Jonah had stopped living while I hadn’t.
“What are you doing?”
I spun and blinked against the onslaught of wind and snow. When my vision cleared, I was faced with a flat mouth. His cold, red-chapped cheeks made his pinkish-white scar stand out more than ever. The black hat was pulled down to his brows and snow had crusted over the scruff on his face. He’d flipped the collar of his heavy, navy-blue winter coat up until only his cheeks and nose were visible.
“I’d like to help.” The bridge of my nose stung from the attack of the frigid air on my skin.
“You’ve done enough.” He turned away, shovel in hand. “Get inside.”
I clamped my hand on his arm. I didn’t yank him around or he might fall. I’d get taken out with him, and while I’d like to know what his weight felt like on top of me, I didn’t want him hurt. And I’d rather be in a warm bed. I’d rather he didn’t hate me.
