I stared at the ceiling. Cool air drifted in from the old windows. Heat was pumping out of the vents aroundthe room. I kicked the rest of the blankets off. Autumn murmured and buried her face farther into her pillow.
I would be leaving in three days.
Rolling up, I let my gaze stroke over her ass one more time before I went to the bathroom to clean up. I could make breakfast, but a restlessness had settled into my bones. There was a pile of snow against the door and garage to be moved and a sidewalk that needed to be cleared.
I had no snow pants, but the snow removal shouldn’t take that long. I put on jeans, a shirt, a sweater, and the heavier coat I’d bought. I dug out gloves and a stocking hat and went through the garage.
A snowblower was parked in the far corner. Next to it was a gas can that looked fairly fresh. Of course Autumn would take care of her equipment. She was a Bailey.
I punched open the garage door and stepped outside to form a plan. The cold blew into my lungs, stealing my breath.Fuck. I was a Montana kid. I would get used to the temperature.
I squinted against the bright morning sun. The whole driveway was covered, but a drift had formed on one side that’d hang up her car. How long had it been since I’d moved snow? Seemed like this whole trip had unlocked a time capsule of experiences.
The snowblower started right up. After a few moments, I was clearing a path down the middle of her driveway and blowing a stream of snow onto her yard. The garage door of the house beside Autumn’s opened and a guy came out, flanked by two lanky sons, all dressed in better winter weather gear than I had.
He waved. I returned it and kept going. More neighborspopped out. The storm had died down and it was time to make everything passable. As I worked, a sense of satisfaction settled around me. We all had our parts and I was included.
When I was growing up, I had to run the tractor with the bucket. Mom would push snow with the blade on the four-wheeler, and Dad would get as many chores done as he could while we cleaned snow. It had gotten to where I would look forward to snow days.
How was Dad doing? He had no equipment in the shop anymore, but I hadn’t gone into the garage.
There was no reason for me to care. He wasn’t worried about me.
I wheeled the snowblower into the garage and killed the engine.
But how was Dad doing? That old house was drafty. He’d kept it up, but a ton of expenses had been spared when it was built before I was born. The place needed new windows, a new roof, and probably some gas and a match. Start over.
Which was what someone else would be doing with the place. Whoever the Baileys chose to manage the farm. Probably someone local.
“Are you almost finished?”
I spun. My very own ranch snow bunny was standing in the opening of the garage door. I was surrounded by the smell of exhaust, but I knew her cotton-candy scent well enough that she didn’t have to be close for me to smell it.
Her hair was stuffed under a blue knit hat with a fluffy white ball on top. Her yellow scarf matched nothing, especially not the grungy tan work coat she waswearing over her bibbed black snow pants. She was cute as hell.
“Yeah, I’m about done.”
Her pants swished as she crossed toward me. She frowned at my jeans. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I can’t feel my legs anymore.”
Her eyes widened. “Go inside and warm up.”
“I’m good. You forget I’m a local boy.”
“You’re usually the one who forgets.” She retrieved the wide snow shovel leaning against the wall.
I was stuck on her casual comment. “I’ve never forgotten where I’m from.”
She blinked at me, eyes wide. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“No, you meant something.”
Scraping the concrete with the shovel, she didn’t answer right away. “You haven’t forgotten, but you don’t exactly want to remember.” She ran her lower lip through her teeth and her breath puffed around her face. “But it’s okay. I understand.”
She did. So why wasn’t it comforting to hear? She wasn’t begging me to stay. Even if she did, I wouldn’t. She wasn’t hanging on me until I left. She was living up her month of being married. Just like she’d said she would do.
I should be doing the same.
