Nellie’s expression softened. “What happened?”
I hesitated, then said, “We were eating dinner. I told him my editor wants me to write a follow-up piece to the vacation rental article. About The Ex-List.”
The moment the words left my mouth, Nellie’s lips pressed into a tight line.
“He shut down like I’d flipped a switch.” Thinking about it again splintered my heart into even more pieces.
Nellie let out a long breath. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Don’t know what?”
She gave me a long look. One that made my stomach twist even before she said a word. “Thatcher’s on that list.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “No, that can’t be right. I asked if he knew anything about it and he just…”
Trailed off. Went quiet. Turned cold. I stared out the window toward the mountains. He thought I was just like everyone else who’d hurt him. Thought I’d turn his story into some punchline in a damn listicle.
“Number two,” Nellie said as she reached across the table and put her hands over mine. “They called him the Ghost of Hard Timber. The women he dated never stood a chance. He couldn’t commit. Didn’t even try.”
The air in the cafe suddenly felt too warm. I pulled my hands out from under hers and wrapped them around the mug. “No wonder he looked like I’d kicked his dog when I mentioned The Ex-List.”
“You didn’t know,” Nellie said gently. “But now you do.”
Now I did. And suddenly, a lot of things made sense, like the way he flinched when I got too close, how he held me like he wanted forever but looked like it might kill him to say so.
“He thinks I’m going to write about him.”
Nellie nodded. “It hurt him to be put on that list, even if it was only meant to light a fire under his butt.”
I swallowed hard. “But he never told me. Why didn’t he just say something?”
“Because people like Thatcher don’t talk about pain. They carry it until it hardens around their heart like bark on a tree.” She paused. “You saw the scar, didn’t you? On his side?”
I nodded.
“He got that in a wildfire when he was a teenager. He was trying to hold things together at home, helping out with his brothers and sister since his mama passed and his daddy wasn’t worth a damn. He still showed up for training with my husband that summer. Nearly bled out before help arrived, but he made it through. Didn’t complain once. Just kept going.”
My throat ached. “He said he thought he was invincible back then.”
“He was wrong,” Nellie said, her voice soft. “And after that fire, he stopped letting people in. He grew up, graduated high school and disappeared into the woods. Now he only comes to town for supplies. Refuses to let anyone get close.”
I sat back, my eyes stinging.
He’d let me close. And the second he felt threatened, he’d shut me out again. “I wasn’t going to write anything mean. That’s not who I am.”
“I know,” Nellie said. “And way deep down, he probably does too. But fear doesn’t always listen to reason.”
I stared down at the coffee swirling in my cup. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Give him time,” she said. “But don’t wait forever, honey. Some men are worth chasing down the trail. And some need a push to come out of the woods.”
I gave her a watery smile. “You ever thought about becoming a life coach?”
“I had enough of that as a guidance counselor,” Nellie said with a wink. “Now I’d rather sling biscuits for a living. It’s a lot easier.”
I laughed, the sound a little cracked around the edges, but still real. “Can I ask you one more thing?”
“Of course, sugar.”
