Leaning against my truck, I watch the diner as the lights slowly go off around inside it, plunging it into the same darkness that has descended outside. A few widely spaced streetlights along Main Street and a couple exterior bulbs outside closed businesses provide the only reprieve.
McBride Mountain decided a long time ago that too many harsh lights would impede the ability of citizens to see the stars at night, and the ones placed judiciously around town are just enough to allow a low, warm glow but not enough to block out the beauty of the twinkling dots spread out above us.
I glance up at them, watching them disappear then reappear from behind the few light clouds that also float over the moon.
It’s a peaceful night, like all of them are in McBride Mountain. But Elaine has her quilting bee tonight, and always leaves early. That meant Lucky had to close up the diner alone.
And despite knowing that crime is virtually non-existent around here—save for my own father’s actions last year—the thought that Lucky would be walking home alone in the dark weighed heavy on my chest. Precisely where her eucalyptus scent still lingers from when I worked beside her cleaning up early.
I sat in my truck for almost an hour while Lucky finished her end of the evening tasks required to close the place, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave.
Not without her.
Lucky steps out the front door, drawing my attention back to the diner. She turns and twists the key in the lock to secure the building without ever glancing my direction.
I push off my truck. “Hey…”
She startles, dropping her bag and the keys, pressing a hand to her chest. “Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” I hold up my hands, approaching her cautiously as she struggles to regain her breath. “I waited because I didn’t want you walking home alone.”
But I can see now that maybe that was a bad idea.
Lucky’s reaction to finding me waiting makes guilt eat away at me for scaring her.
She releases a long, shaky exhale, then bends down and picks up her things, sticking her hand into her bag to ensure they’re all there. By the time I get over to her, she’s re-secured her bag on her shoulder with everything inside of it and looks up at me with trepidation in her gaze.
If I wasn’t so concerned about her heading home alone in the dark, I might forget the whole thing, but I can’t ignore this feeling in my chest that this woman needs someone to watch out for her, to have her back. That maybe she’s never had that before.
I swallow through my uncertainty. “Do you…mind if I walk with you?”
It’s only a few blocks to Elaine’s house, but that doesn’t relieve the tension that permeates my body as I wait for her response.
She chews on her bottom lip, scanning Main Street, which is quiet tonight. Only a few people meander on the sidewalks. A single car drives down the pavement away from us—someone finally heading home.
Which is what I should be doing, too.
And I will, as soon as I get Lucky to her temporary one.
Eventually, her gaze returns to mine and some of the ice there has melted away. “Okay…”
“You don’t sound so sure about that.”
She forces a smile. “I’m just used to being on my own.”
The way she says that makes an ache bloom behind my ribcage, and I shove my hands into my pockets to keep myself from rubbing at it and drawing attention to my strange reaction.
I’ve never really been alone. Since the day Mom brought me into the McBride cabin, I was one of them. I always had her, Killian, and Connor around me. There was always someone watching over me, taking care of me, offering companionship and whatever else I might need.
Yet, I’ve felt nothing but alone since I learned the truth about who I am.
Like I’m standing at the peak of the mountain in pitch blackness with no way to descend and nowhere else to go.
Maybe that’s why I stayed tonight.
For me more than for her.
Because Lucky and her dog are the only ones who have made me truly smile or laugh in months.
