Her gaze scanned his features, and for a moment he was taken back in time to that afternoon when he’d picked her up for their Christmas Festival tradition. There was a sparkle in her eyes, however brief. But then it was replaced by a guardedness he’d grown to recognize well when she’d come home for the funeral. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Wynter, is that any way to thank the young man?” Nora called out from somewhere in the house.
Wynter stiffened and her focus shifted to the paper bag with curiosity.
“My sister and her fiancé made Nora some meals since…” His voice trailed off as he thrust the bag at her.
She fumbled with it for a moment and he took a step back, but Nora’s voice caught him off guard.
“Marcus, hon, why don’t you come inside? It’s frigid out there.”
Wynter closed her eyes as if the invitation pained her. Marcus frowned, and his original instinct to escape and leave her in peace when he’d caught sight of her disappeared.
“Why?” he ground out huskily, low enough that Nora wouldn’t be able to hear him.
“Why what?” she asked with exasperation.
“You know what. Why did you just up and leave? Why did you push me out of your life? Why didn’t you…” His voice cracked. “Come back?”
Wynter flushed and looked down. “It doesn’t matter.” Her answer was so low he wasn’t sure he heard her right.
“It doesn’t matter?” he scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. That’s what you’re going with? That’s rich. I can’t believe you would actually?—”
Nora called from the other room, “Marcus, honey. It’s fine. Please come in. I have a favor to ask you.”
Marcus didn’t want to go inside. He wanted to leave, to abandon the hope he’d had when he’d caught sight of her at the lighting ceremony last night. He wanted her to hurt just like he did. But he could never abandon Nora. She was like a surrogate grandmother. So, he brushed past Wynter when she stepped aside to let him in.
Wynter hovered by the door, the bag of food clutched to her chest like a shield, but Marcus ignored her and headed straight for Nora.
He flashed her a smile. “I heard you’ve been up to no good.”
Nora’s eyes flickered with something and darted to Wynter.
He gestured toward her wrist. “How did you manage that?”
Understanding flooded Nora’s eyes, and she smiled grimly as she lifted her wrist. “Oh, this? You know. Got a little clumsy.”
“She fell off a stepstool when she was trying to dust her porcelain collection,” Wynter offered at his back.
Marcus kept his eyes trained on Nora. Looking at Wynter would only bring him more pain.
It doesn’t matter.
Three words to destroy the friendship he’d valued above everything in his life.
“Well, Isabelle was insistent that you deserved the best while you’re healing. I’ll stop by with some fresh meals here and there so you can take it easy.”
“You’re too sweet,” Nora said. “But as I said, I was hoping I could enlist your help with a few things.”
“Anything you need,” Marcus assured her. “Do you need me to run you to town? Those roads are getting pretty bad. They say there’s more snow to come and the ice hasn’t melted yet.”
Nora waved a hand dismissively. “No, I meant I need someone who can fix a few things around here. With Jack gone, there are repairs that haven’t been seen to. Do you think you could manage?”
Marcus glanced around the old house. It was kept clean and well-maintained, but it was on the older side. He wouldn’t be surprised to discover an occasional leaky faucet or cracked windowpane. “Sure. Whatever you need, Nora.”
“Such a sweetheart. Thank you.” She reached out and took his hand before patting it with the other. “Wynter will be here for a few months, and I don’t want her to have to worry about a thing.”
Marcus felt his muscles tighten at the new information. Wynter wasn’t just sticking around for the weekend. She’d be here for months.
