Unfortunately, the event broke more than just the tie. Poor Lance was still feeling the repercussions of that disaster.
“I don’t remember competing in that.”
“Correct. Because you didn’t. You didn’t even come home for Christmas your first year of college.”
Her expression fell. “I had just gotten my internship with December Décor. I couldn’t leave. It was a big break for me.”
“I know. I get it,” Holden assured. “I think I just didn’t expect things to be over between us.” His throat bobbed with a swallow. “I mean, with competing and all.”
Rachel’s blue eyes held Holden’s and didn’t release, even when he cleared his throat.
He pulled the steel fire poker from its hook and jammed it into a log. Cinders popped and hissed. Was he the only one currently burning up? His face flamed with the instant regret that he’d said too much.
“Looks like this is going pretty steadily,” he said of the fire. “It’s probably safe for me to head out now.”
Rachel’s eyes lingered on him a moment more before switching to the window. The panes rattled as wind howled across the frame and wet snowdrops smattered the glass. “It’s anything but safe out there, Holden.” She drew her focus back to him. “You should stay.”
* * *
WatchingRachel Joy sleep was at the very top of the list of things Holden figured he would never do. It had never even crossed his mind that he’d be in this kind of scenario. But as the evening wore on, and the storm picked up in intensity and duration, Holden knew he didn’t have any other option.
It was downright hostile outside.
He knew this mountain well, but not perfectly. Whiteout conditions would make navigating through the terrain fuzzy. Volunteering with Search and Rescue had prepared him for riding out in inclement weather, but it had also prepared him in another way. He saw what happened when people placed themselves in the path of danger. And he saw how tragically something like that could end.
Around nine o’clock, and prompted by a series of continued yawns, Rachel admitted she should head to bed. And that would have been fine, if the spare bedroom where she slept wasn’t an igloo. She’d suggested Holden take the couch, but he wasn’t about to do that. This was her cabin and that was her fire, even if he could take a little credit for getting it going.
No, Rachel would sleep on the couch and Holden would be perfectly fine in the recliner tucked into the corner of the room. He didn’t plan on sleeping much, anyway. Someone had to add logs to the flames when it started to go out. While he’d given her a brief lesson on building a fire, he was pretty positive she hadn’t been paying much attention.
But all Holden could pay attention to now was the way her full lips parted as she breathed softly. How her long, flaxen hair spilled around her face on the pillow. How his heart quickened every time she stirred.
What was happening to him?
Was Lance right? Was the line between love and hate really so thin that it could be crossed that easily? Because Holden felt nothing but warmth when he looked at Rachel now. And when his thoughts traveled back to their conversation—to her confession about her sister and the real reason for her competitive nature—an empathy that bordered on pain coursed through his veins.
He’d been a punk kid. He couldn’t believe all he’d put her through. Sure, she’d admitted she needed the competition—needed something to drive her. Only, he’d never realized the true reason.
Holden supposed he wasn’t acompletejerk. After all, his decision to pull out of the running for the college scholarship had more to do with wanting Rachel to succeed than he’d ever admitted to himself. Until now.
He hadn’t been disqualified. No, he’d withdrawn his application.
Even now, he remembered stopping into Main Street Market near closing one day and overhearing a private discussion between Paula and Stewart Joy. Holden had been an aisle over while they counted out the money in the till. Even the candy aisle—all stocked with its packaged promise of a sugar rush—couldn’t distract him. He’d heard them loud and clear.
Their business would go under if Rachel couldn’t secure some financial assistance. They’d be forced to foot the entire bill of her education. They hadn’t said it begrudgingly; it was just a matter-of-fact statement that didn’t come with a choice. They would do anything necessary to let Rachel fulfill her big city dreams.
And Holden knew he held the key to making sure that happened.
One scholarship shouldn’t make or break a college career, but this had been a big one. It covered nearly half a year’s tuition, along with room and board. It allowed its recipient to dream bigger, hope brighter.
He might not have even won had he stayed in the running, but that was something Holden would never know. And that was just fine with him.
Around eleven, Scout rustled. She rarely needed to be let out past sundown, but Holden hadn’t taken her to do her business before bed. It was just too blustery.
Her head lifted and those bleary, blinking puppy eyes found Holden’s. Immediately, her tail wagged.
“You need to stretch your legs, girl?” Holden whispered.
He collected a flashlight and slipped his feet into his boots by the front door, not bothering to tie up the laces. In two large bounds, Scout was out in the yard, bounding over the powdered terrain like a child set loose on a playground.
