I clear my throat. “There’s a hell of a lot of snow coming,” I reply, leaving the inn’s parking lot and taking us past the historic homes. “It’s predicted to only get worse.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch her shuddering. “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” she admits. “But damn.”
My gaze strays to the edge of her skirt, which is tight around her thick thighs. Thighs I wouldn’t mind wrapped around my?—
I stop that thought before it can make this moment any worse. “What do you want to see first?” I ask, shifting so I’m not as obvious.
“Might sound morbid,” she says, turning to me, “but I want to go up the mountain. See the lodge.”
“I don’t think many go up that way now that it’s burned down. Maybe a few tourists because the lookout is decent there.” I spare her a glance, one I manage to keep on her face. The flush has died down with the warmth of the truck, but the sparkle in her eyes is still there.
“The last time I was there,” she replies, sitting back, “it was our graduation party.”
I stiffen at the reminder. It was the day she’d shared she was leaving—and that she had no intention of coming back. It’d also been the night Stella and I finally broke up—and I’d sworn off love for good.
I’d been an idiot that night, losing the only good thing in my life besides the ranch. My best friend, who I betrayed, had finally had enough of being the punching bag for her family.
I swallow hard but give Hattie a nod. “I’ll take you up there. Not much to see, though. And a lot has been blocked off.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes are on me, the weight of her stare almost too much, but I don’t say anything else as I take the winding road up the mountain towards the lodge. Once, it’d brought a world of business to the town; tourism, jobs, unwanted attention sometimes.
But the fire ended all of that. Took lives, stole careers, and closed the door on a whole lot of opportunities for the people of Willow Ridge.
We’re quiet the entire drive up the mountain. I leave Hattie to soak it all in, but every so often, I check her expression. There’s sadness in her eyes, like she’s realising what she’s missed, but also awe, as if she’s seeing it all for the first time.
We pass the hidden driveways for cabins hidden deep in the forest and mountain, each mile feeling like a gentle shift of energy between us.
“Have you been up here since?” she asks quietly.
I shake my head. “Since the fire, or since you left?”
Hattie freezes, but she doesn’t look at me. “Both.”
My hands tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles white. “The night you left was the last time I went to the lodge,” I admit. “It was the night everything changed, and I realised how fucking badly I failed you.”
From the corner of my eye, she sighs and shakes her head. “You didn’t fail me, Casper,” she replies, voice soft. “I should have stood up for myself more around my mom and Stella. That had nothing to do with you.”
A lump forms in my throat. I want to tell herwhyI’d done it, but the words won’t leave my lips. “I could have done more,” is all I manage as we pass beneath the once grand sign for Jade Mountain Ski Lodge. The paint is chipped, and someone spray painted a skull over the words.
Ahead, a tall chain link fence keeps us from going any further. The ruins of the lodge lay beyond covered in snow, hiding some of the damage. The ski lift hangs in disarray, the multi-storey resort open to the elements, one half blackened by the fire. There are cabins hidden further away that got hit hard, and the restaurant was totally destroyed.
Beside me, Hattie blows out a harsh breath. “Wow.”
I put the truck in park and sit back. “The fire station has pretty much been abandoned,” I tell her. “After Jason’s death, they just…couldn’t do it.”
Jason Rhodes, one of the fire fighters who died, had been a year ahead of us at school. His sister, who now has custody of his kid, was in our graduating class.
“I was going to come to the funeral,” Hattie says quietly. “But just felt…I don’t know. Like I’d be intruding.”
I understand that. It’d been strange, but everyone had been there. The entire town, I think.
For a moment, we say nothing. But then she grabs something out of her purse before opening the truck door.
“What are you doing?” I ask, unbuckling.
Hattie doesn’t look at me as she slips out of the car. “Taking a few photos.” She holds up her camera. “You can wait here if you want.”
Like hell I will.
