My stomach sank. They’d get involved and they’d want to run Boyd out of town—or run him over. I didn’t want to be in the center of the mess I’d caused.
“What’d he do?” Tate asked Jonah like he knew I wouldn’t tell him.
Tate tried to step around Junie, but Autumn nudged in front of him. She pushed my suitcase toward me, the wheels bumping on the pavement. I didn’t know how she’d known I’d need it, but Autumn was more observant than the others.
One roller hit an ice chunk and the bag tipped. Teller tried to shove through my sisters. He’d probably grab the luggage and me too. He’d rightfully want an explanation and then want to kick Boyd’s ass.
I cringed. I wanted to forget how stupid I was. I wanted to slink away and nurse my pride.
Jonah put a hand up. “She wants privacy.” He cleared his throat like he wasn’t used to talking this much or this loud. “Take care of that piece of shit inside of there.” He tipped his forehead toward the church. “Make sure that asshole can’t get near her again.” He limped forward and bent his big body to pick my suitcase up. His left leg didn’t bend as much as the right.
“Summer?” Tenor was my mellowest brother, but anger and worry gleamed in his eyes. “You good?”
“I will be,” I said quietly. “I just need some time to process what happened. Please tell Mama not to worry.”
We all knew she was going to.
Jonah passed me and tossed my bag in the rear passenger seat. His old red-and-silver pickup was a balm to my nerves. He didn’t drive a flashy car like Boyd. Jonah’s old truck was covered in dust with thicker dirt caked around the wheel wells.
When he opened the door for me, I noticedhim. I’d never seen him out of jeans and a flannel, but he was in black slacks and a dark blue dress shirt. He looked good, ruggedly handsome in a dark and mysterious way, but I’d rather he was in denim.
He opened the passenger door. “Get in.”
I faced my family. “I’m sorry,” I said, barely loud enough to carry on the cold wind toward them. Then I gave a little wave that was supposed to be reassuring, but my hand trembled. I got into a truck with a man I hadn’t spoken to in years, but it was better to leave my wedding with a near stranger than with the groom.
CHAPTER TWO
Jonah
I had a bride in my passenger seat, but I was a thirty-nine-year-old bachelor.
I maneuvered out of Bozeman and headed toward Bourbon Canyon. Summer was curled up with her head on her hand, staring out the window. Snow had fallen last week and then Montana had had a couple of days of above-freezing weather. The streets were a mix of brown and grungy white. The closer to the edge of city limits I got, the thinner the snow piles were, covering the landscape more evenly. The brown wasn’t from dirt but dormant grasses, and from green fir trees farther up the hills. The ground disappeared again under the white of the mountain peaks.
She was so quiet. I’d never seen Summer quiet. She fit her name. Bold. Bright. Sunshine. The embodiment of confidence and happiness. As a kid, she’d been bossy, opinionated, and stubborn. Time might’ve polished her, but her edges couldn’t be dulled.
If she didn’t want to be around anyone, that made me her guy.
Not her man. Never her man.
An old, familiar ache burned behind my sternum. I wanted to go home. I hadn’t wanted to leave, but I had owed my mom an appearance at the wedding. Summer’s wedding would make her more emotional than most. The thoughts of what-could-have-been haunted her. I owed my brother to see that Summer married someone who deserved her. I owed it to myself to see her happily wed to another man.
Now my mom wouldn’t have to sit through the nuptials, and I would make sure that pompous, abusive jackass of a groom couldn’t find Summer. I had a cabin in the mountains outside of Bourbon Canyon. No one would bother her there. Her disgusting fiancé likely wouldn’t get over himself enough to go looking for her.
I glanced at the gray sky. Another snowfall was in the forecast, regular weather that townsfolk wouldn’t notice, but Summer might have to camp out with me a few more days than planned.
“Why were you there?” she asked, her voice tiny.
Shit, I’d almost forgotten I wasn’t alone. No. Her strawberries-and-sugar smell wouldn’t let me. She was infusing the cab of my truck, her scent curling around me and amping up the ache in my chest. How long before I quit smelling her when I climbed in?
“My family got an invite and insisted I go.” I’d balked. I’d argued with Mom. I didn’t like making trips to town, much less to Bozeman.
She’d reminded me I’d been holed up in the cabinmost of the winter—again. I hated when Mom worried, and I couldn’t tell her I went to town more often than she thought. She’d ask why and things would get awkward.
A guy got tired of his hand.
Eventually, Mom had pulled the brother card.Can you do it for Eli?
Summer’s laugh was dry and sad. “So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be there?” She let out a weary sigh. “No, I meant why were you in the hallway? Did you see us arguing?”
