And if she did it right, maybe she could stay.
IT WAS THE KINDof morning that made a guy believe in fresh starts.
“God does not keep a record of wrongs.”
Gabe’s words hung in Jericho’s head as he helped tidy the cabin. Hard to believe them when he had such a detailed ledger.
“You okay?” Harley stowed the last of the cookware and doused the fire in the cookstove.
“Yeah.” He reached for his jacket.
“You’re thinking too hard,” she said, coming over to him and grabbing her own jacket.
“Just wishing I’d come home sooner.”
“You’re here now.” She touched his arm, and even through layers of wool and down, he felt the warmth. “That’s what matters.”
“Is it?” He grabbed his coat. “Hudson’s been dealing with this Eagle’s Nest mess alone. I should have been here.”
“You were serving your country.”
Huh, first time she’d suggested that wasn’t some sort of abandonment. Now she let him go. “Plane’s not going to dig itself out.”
She stepped outside, and he followed.
The world opened to pristine white. The storm had transformed into a diamond-bright morning. The sky arched overhead in perfect azure, not a cloud in sight. Fresh powder stretched unmarked to the tree line, where dark spruce stood sentinel against the mountains.
“I could let Godsave me. Get reborn.”
Gabe, still roaming around his head.
“How bad is it?” Harley asked as they trudged down to the plane. Snow had drifted over the skids, securing it to the lake.
Winter had pulled out shovels from the cargo area. “Could be worse. Main thing is clearing the wings and skis. Maybe an hour’s work.”
Topher had already started on the skis. “Harley, start cleaning off the wings.”
She retrieved a scraper from Winter, who went to the other side.
Jericho grabbed a shovel and started to dig out the other ski.
Orlando bounded through the snow, biting at it.
“He loves it out here,” Harley said, laughing.
“He’s part Bernese mountain dog. I have to forcibly drag him in out of the snow.” He didn’t look up.
“You’ve got that expression again.”
He glanced at Harley. Her cheeks were pink from cold, and her blond hair escaped her wool hat in wisps.
“What look?”
“It’s the Bowie look. The one where your family decides they need to fix all the problems in Alaska.”
“What?”
“Oh please,” Topher said. “Winter, am I right?”
