Page 53

The weight of her expression hits me like a punch to the gut. I know there’s nothing I could’ve done differently, and deep-down Poppy understands that, even though she’s wound tightly right now.

But right now, I’m too exhausted to hash this out. This looming conversation feels a hell of a lot like another chore to be managed before I can go to sleep.

If I could have one damn day where I come straight home, shower, and go to bed…if I could have one day without Hank asking me to stay late, or Poppy wondering where I’m at, or Wayne needing help with the cattle, or my friends pestering me about going out…

My chest squeezes as if everyone’s needs are gripping me in a vise. The tension is overwhelming, almost painful.

My sadness over losing Mom and Dad is torn apart by anger some days. Anger that they left us, anger that they’re not here to pick up the pieces, anger that I can’t live one day as a normal fucking single man.

Then guilt settles in. Because how could I possibly be angry with them over something they couldn’t control?

Grief is just mental whiplash, really. Just more drama I don’t need.

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I know you were worried. Hell, I would’ve been too if it were you or Wayne out there. But the weather and cell service is out of my control, Poppy.” I drag a hand through my hair. “We rushed to Hank’s old hunting lodge and built a fire to stay warm while we waited for the storm to pass.”

She blinks slowly. “We?”

“What?” I ask, momentarily confused before realizing I slipped up. Shit.

“You said we…but Hank and Otto were in Missoula. I know because I called them multiple times trying to find you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to find the words to explain how Hattie and I ended up stuck together in a remote cabin without it sounding like more than it was—especially when it was more. “Hank and Otto went into town, as you’re already aware.” I sigh. “So, Hank enlisted Hattie to help repair the fence. I just needed someone to hand me tools while I worked.”

“And then it started snowing and…?” She crosses her arms, leaning back against the countertop.

I take a slow, deep breath. “Hattie’s not used to the mountain weather, and didn’t bring a coat, despite my insistence. She was freezing. There’s no way she could’ve lasted the hour’s long ride back to the ranch.”

She rolls her hand in the air, urging me to continue.

“I remembered the old hunting lodge and knew there was a place for the horses, and firewood,” I say when she smirks at me. “She was freezing, Poppy. Her teeth were chattering.”

The smug smile on her face stays firmly in place.

I roll my eyes, carrying my soup to the table. “I’m not defending myself for keeping her safe. You can think whatever the hell you want.” Slumping down in my chair, I dig into my soup, but I can feel Poppy staring at the back of my head.

“What happened once you got to the hunting lodge?” She pries.

“I made a fire so we wouldn’t die,” I mumble with my mouth full.

Poppy giggles. “Oh, this is too good.”

“Can you go back to being mad at me? I preferred that.”

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me any details. I’ll ask Hattie.” She shrugs, walking past me toward the stairs. “Can you put the leftovers in the fridge when you’re done?”

I nod and she leaves me in blessed silence…until Wayne creaks down the steps and sinks down in the chair beside mine. “What’s Poppy giggling about?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

Wayne levels me with a stare, a stare that silently calls me a liar.

I shovel some more soup into my mouth. My eyes drift to the stairway, hoping Poppy won’t come back down.

“She’s been staying in her room after Tripp goes to bed,” Wayne says.

I swallow my spoonful of soup. “Yeah, I noticed that.”

“She seems lonely.” Wayne shrugs. “And to be honest, I think we’re all exhausted.”