“It’s called self-defense, but yes, that was her as well. Father deplores the amount of time I spend with his sister these days.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He shook his head and laughed. “Other than you, she’s the fiercest woman I’ve ever met.”
She beamed, and his breath hitched. Her face glowed in the soft, diffused light of the snowy day. The cold air brought a natural flush to her cheeks, and her green eyes sparkled with joy. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes, giving her the guise of a snow nymph straight from a wintry fairy tale. He’d never seen anything more enchanting. The air crackled with unspoken magic, and he was thankful for the first time in a very long time.
“It feels good to laugh with you again,” she said.
“It does.”
“Though I must admit I’m mostly laughing at you.”
“Understandably so. I reckon it’s about as funny as the time I fished you out of that scummy pond and you had lily pads dangling from your ears. We’ll call it even.”
“That was a smelly day,” she mused.
He rose to his feet, still chuckling, and stretched his arms over his head. He glanced down to find Imogen staring at him oddly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” She scrambled to her feet. “It’s only that I find you very…”
“Handsome? Wise? Courageous?”
She rolled her eyes. “Photogenic. You’re a natural at posing.”
“Perhaps you should take my photograph,” he offered.
“You’d let me?”
“I’m sure we can arrange an exchange.”
She elbowed him, and his cheeks began to hurt from all the smiling. Draping an arm over her shoulder, he said, “Let’s head back before you get too cold. I’ll make us some hot tea.”
“That sounds nice.”
As they headed toward the cabin, chatting like old times, Tommy was struck by the turn of events. Somehow, the mishap had done what their artificial truce had not: healed their friendship.
If that’s all he could have, it would have to be enough.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Tommy stood on the doorstep and sipped a mug of coffee. Overnight, the storm clouds had been replaced by delicate wisps scattered across the pale blue sky. The emerging sun, a pale orb on the horizon, cast a glow upon the snow-laden peaks, and the once-muted whites and blues of the forest now sparkled. The air, frigid yet invigorating, carried the promise of new beginnings.
The mountains had gifted him an escape route.
If he departed soon, he could be in the next town within a few hours. From there, he’d sort out his passage back to Seattle. What a relief it would be to return to real life, where he slept in a bed instead of a make-shift pile of blankets on the floor. He’d have clean clothing that fit him, and he could have a steak for Christmas Eve dinner. His trials would recede to a distant memory, and life would go on.
Strange that he wasn’t jubilant. Stranger still that he wasn’t already preparing to leave.
The quiet sounds of Imogen waking up inside the cabin reached him, and when his heartbeat doubled, he was forced to admit she was the reason for his hesitation. Now that they were on good terms, it seemed a shame to walk away. Maybe…no, it couldn’t be helped; his plans depended on getting the book back to Seattle. It was the last sale, and then he could finally rest. Finally make a break away from the double life he’d grown weary of. Finally fulfill his destiny.
Besides, Imogen would be fine. She wanted to be alone. Surely, she would appreciate his departure, which would allow her to…well, to do whatever she’d been doing before he’d stumbled upon the cabin. He frowned. Why was she alone for Christmas?
It irked him that he didn’t know.
He could leave, or…he could delay his departure a few hours. Spend a bit more time with her. He still owed her a photograph, didn’t he? He could fulfill his promise and savor one last morning with her. Pleased with his decision, he opened the door to find Imogen just on the other side, a colorful patchwork quilt wrapped around her.
She looked past him and gasped in awe. “Will you look at that? It’s a winter wonderland.”
