Chapter Two

Jake

“I won’t let you fall. ”

The sexy cowboy pressing close behind me was reassuringly strong and confident, and the horse under my already-aching butt did seem sure-footed.

The fact that said cowboy was somehow Cam Walsh blew my fuck— flipping mind.

I’d only cursed in my head, but I still peeked down at Cora guiltily even though she couldn’t understand those words yet. Or any words.

Carefully, I lifted the scarf I’d wrapped loosely around her snowsuit hood, glimpsing her tiny face nestled close to my chest. She was still sleeping, her perfect bow-shaped pink lips parted.

I hated having her outside in this weather. On one hand, I was terrified I’d smother her if I wrapped her too tightly, but what if I didn’t protect her well enough and she got frostbite? Her skin was so smooth and soft and new. I was probably doing everything wrong.

A stupendously stupid new item to add to my list of Everything I’m Doing Wrong : trying to take that shortcut. Such an epically dumb thing to do. Had I lived in Toronto so long that I’d forgotten just how isolated it was near Lonely Creek?

It was right there in the name for fuck’s— Pete’s sake. Nothing but ranches and cows around. And apparently yaks. Not to mention fierce blizzards that could kill adults, let alone innocent six-month-olds.

How did I think I could take care of a baby? How did I think I was even a little bit qualified to be a father?

Still, I was a father, whether I was qualified or not. I just had to fake it ’til I made it.

Any day now.

The horse whinnied and shook her head in the falling snow, and Cam leaned forward around me to pat her neck, murmuring, “Almost there.”

With Cam’s impossibly deep voice close to my ear, I held my breath. I hadn’t been pressed so intimately against a man in years. Not since before Anna. And this man was Cam .

I’d wondered about him over the years. Of course I had. I’d never found a trace of him on social media, and I hadn’t had the guts to ask any old friends what happened to him. If he’d landed on his feet after…

My stomach churned to think of it.

Well, apparently, he’d landed on a horse. And I was practically in his lap—just to make it even more awkward to see him again.

The snow blanketed the rocky land, accumulating rapidly, but the horse made her way steadily. I still couldn’t see any signs of civilization, but Cam had mentioned a cabin. It was such a relief not to be alone that I hadn’t questioned him. I wanted to ask for an ETA but bit my tongue.

Also, where exactly was the cabin? Did anyone else live there? Did Cam have a…significant other? Asshole kids had teased him in school and called him gay, but was he really? I had so many questions.

Fortunately, I had the sense to keep my mouth shut.

For the hundredth time, I cursed myself for thinking it was a good idea to take a shortcut. I should have stuck to the highway even if I’d ended up crawling along in the blizzard. But those huge trucks thundering along freaked me out, and I’d just wanted to get Cora home as quickly as possible.

Not that it was home anymore.

The snow fell steadily, gusting in the wind. If Cam hadn’t found us…

I shuddered violently, holding Cora tighter before wincing and making sure I wasn’t crushing her. My heart thudded as I checked her sleeping, peaceful face.

“What?”

I jolted again at Cam’s question. More like a demand. “Just cold,” I said. He grunted, and I could imagine he was thinking about how much colder I’d be if he hadn’t found us. I tamped down another shudder.

I had to be smarter. I had to think of Cora and not take stupid risks. Not make impulsive decisions. I thought I’d learned that lesson years ago—especially after what I’d done to Cam. Yet here I was still making bad choices.

And here I was with Cam . I almost wriggled around to get another look at him under that Stetson to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind.

“Here we are,” Cam announced in that impressively gravelly voice. He’d been scrawny and pimply and so young when I’d seen him last. There’d been tears shining in his blue eyes that day—not to mention streaming down his red cheeks.

Again, I wanted to turn and examine his face, but I stayed put. Wait, where exactly were we? I squinted through the white. “I don’t see anything?” Following a bark from the dog, I could barely made out a high-roofed wooden shack.

At least it had to be better than freezing to death in my hunk of junk car. I thought of Mary and Joseph finding no room at the inn. Did Bethlehem have blizzards like Alberta? Surely not…

I had to focus. My eyes stung as I squinted at the dark wooden structure. This couldn’t be where Cam actually lived.

As if reading my mind, Cam said, “That’s the barn. Cabin’s to the right.”

“Oh, cool.” Though as the cabin came into focus through the snowfall, it was awfully small. Hey, it wasn’t a barn! Mary and Joseph would have been jealous.

I wasn’t particularly religious, but I prayed the blizzard would blow through and I could get back on the road first thing in the morning. Except the car was busted and would need a tow, and depending on how much snow fell, a tow truck wouldn’t make it down Coyote Trail.

Fu— fudge .

The thought of asking Uncle Steve to pick us up filled me with icy dread. He was already doing us a huge favor. And there didn’t seem to be a road here? Cam had said his truck was at the big house. That was definitely not here.

In front of the cabin, Cam hopped down from the horse more gracefully than a man that big had any right to. I tensed now that Cora and I were alone on the horse’s back. What if it bolted and sent us flying?

But Cam had the reins, and the horse gave no indication she had any desire to carry us away to our doom. We just had to get down. No problem.

Except, why did the ground look so far away? With the snow, it was tough to make out where the ground actually was . We hadn’t seemed so high with Cam solid and confident behind us.

Wordlessly, he grabbed the duffel and looped it over a broad shoulder. Who would’ve thought Cam would grow up into an actual cowboy? He’d been into horses and all that 4-H stuff, but when I’d imagined where he was now, I’d never pictured a taciturn rancher from an old movie.

I realized I was staring at the snow caught in his dark beard, boggling that he could grow facial hair at all, when he offered me a large hand. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Hold on and swing your left leg over toward me.”

I did, grasping Cam’s hand through the layers of our gloves, careful not to jostle Cora or whack the horse’s head with my leg.

Sitting on the side of the horse, I asked, “What now?”

Muttering something under his breath, Cam grabbed me around the waist with both hands and plopped me on my feet in the snow as I swallowed a gasp. He stepped back quickly, looking like he’d love to wipe off his gloves as if they were covered in sh— poop .

He stalked toward the cabin, and I followed, ducking my head as the wind suddenly blew fiercely, snow swirling around us.

The air inside was cool, but compared to outside it was an incredible relief. Every cell in my body unclenched even though my butt and thighs were sore from the ride. Man, it really had been a long time since I’d been near a horse. I also hadn’t realized just how cold I’d gotten. If we were still stuck out there…

My skin prickling, I breathed deeply, a faint scent of coffee and something spicy in the air. Cinnamon? I thought of my mom’s cinnamon rolls, breathing through the wave of grief and wistful nostalgia.

I stood on the mat and eased down Cora’s hood. She still slept, and I didn’t move to unstrap her from my chest. I had a ton to learn about being a dad, but I’d figured out quickly to let sleeping babies lie.

Cam had brushed snow from his hat and duster and taken off his boots before kneeling by an iron wood-burning stove on the left wall. Sparks shot up as he pushed a log inside. I glanced around the cabin, which a real estate agent would optimistically call “ cozy .”

Before the stove and small stone hearth was a door through which I glimpsed a bathtub hung with a plain white shower curtain. Beyond the stove along the back wall were brown cupboards and a sink set in a beige laminate counter.

The fridge with microwave on top filled the right back corner with a double bed along the right wall. How did Cam even fit on that mattress?

The wooden bed frame had a simple headboard, and a window rattled faintly above it. A tall dresser sat in the corner to the right of the door, piled with battered paperbacks.

The wooden floor was covered by a couple of braided, multicolor throw rugs, and a rocking chair sat in the middle of the space facing the stove, a small table beside it. There was only the one chair, and it seemed clear Cam lived alone.

A simply framed photo of the Rockies hung near the fire, and there was another picture of what I now knew to be yaks on the wall beside the door. The fact that Cam spent long days with the herd and still had them decorating his cabin touched me for some reason.

I breathed deeply again, the smell of wood burning taking me back to camping as a kid. Sure, it was small, but the cabin was cozy.

“This is nice,” I said.

Still wearing his cowboy hat and long leather coat, Cam rose and glared at me. He practically took up half the room. “I’m building a real house. This cabin does the job in the meantime, even if it’s not up to your standards.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic! It really is nice. Homey.” I tried for a joke. “Much better than a manger.”

He stared blankly.

“You know, Mary and Joseph and Jesus. ‘Away in a Manger’ and all that? Not that I’m comparing Cora to Jesus. Just, you know. ’Tis the season. But I guess you’re not a big holiday decorator?” There wasn’t a single piece of tinsel to be seen.

He simply said, “No.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m really grateful you’re helping us. Thanks again.”

Cam grumbled something under his breath, then peered uncertainly at Cora against my chest. “Does she…” He motioned with his hand. “Need anything?”

“Not right this minute. Formula and a diaper change soon.”

Cam nodded. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”

I almost blurted, Not even freaking close! Instead, I asked, “Can I put her on the bed?”

Brow creasing, Cam glanced around. “Guess there’s nowhere else. She won’t fall off?”

“She’s just starting to roll over. I’ll watch her.” I managed to toe off my boots on the mat, losing my left sock in the process, then eased her out of the carrier and unwrapped her from all the layers of insulation. I shrugged out of my coat, and Cam grudgingly hung it in the closet tucked behind the door.

Cora woke, her nose wrinkling as she debated between being upset or excited. Sitting on the side of Cam’s bed, which felt incredibly intimate and wrong, I quickly lifted her high and blew a noisy kiss against her belly, the cotton onesie soft against my lips and nose.

I held my breath a moment, and… there . Cora cooed and smiled. The belly raspberry was my go-to for making her smile, which she’d just started doing in earnest. It made my heart sing every time.

After I placed Cora on the bed, she kicked and flailed her arms happily, making little contented noises that I could have listened to all day. I played the zipper game with my hoodie, pulling the zipper up and down in varying speeds to amuse her.

The floor was freezing under my bare foot, but the fire heated the cabin quickly. I kissed Cora’s tiny hands, then her forehead. I inhaled deeply, that sweet scent of cornstarch baby powder and her special Cora smell grounding me. She was safe and happy, and nothing else mattered.

It was so quiet that I jolted when I glanced up to find Cam still looming on the stone hearth in his hat and coat, staring down at us with a frown. He turned back to open the stove and jostle the logs with a poker before I could say anything.

Not that I had a clue what to say.

Cam Walsh! This hulking cowboy was Cam . I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. What was he doing living out here all alone? Was that what he wanted? Was it my fault after what happened?

No, after what I did . It didn’t simply happen. I did it. I made that horrible, selfish, scared, split-second choice.

I cleared my throat. “Cam, um, can I just say…” There were no adequate words, but I had to try.

“You need to call anyone?” He nodded to the ancient landline phone sitting on the dresser between book piles. It was the kind of phone with the buttons in the handset, a curved rectangle of beige plastic that sat in the receiver.

There was no modem in sight. No TV. Did Cam seriously not even have the internet? Even in the middle of nowhere, he could have had dial-up at the very least?

“Could I call my uncle?” I asked. “I don’t want him to worry.” Fat chance of that but I still had to let him know we were stuck.

Cam shrugged before tugging on his boots, opening the door, and disappearing into the snow. The door thudded shut behind him, the icy blast of air dissipating.

After checking the number on my cell, I picked up the phone, keeping one hand on Cora. Wow, I hadn’t heard a dial tone since I was a little kid.

I punched in the number and braced as Uncle Steve answered with, “You there yet?”

Hello to you too. “Almost. The car broke down. Someone came along, and we’re at his place now to wait out the snow.”

Uncle Steve sighed. “You’re not hurt?”

I was sadly grateful he’d asked. “No, we’re both fine. We’ll have to stay the night, though.”

“You seen the news, boy? They’re saying this could be a big one.”

I groaned. “Sh— oot . Well, we’re safe and warm, at least.” I’d crammed all the formula and diapers into the duffel since they were the most vital, along with Cora’s onesies. I could just wear the same clothes.

“You might be with this stranger more than a night.”

My heart sank. A few nights with Cam in his cabin with one bed, assuming he wouldn’t toss us out. Which I knew he wouldn’t, despite his gruff talk. Well, awkward silence in close proximity to Cam was far preferable than the alternative.

I shuddered again, tasting acid as I imagined still being out there. The car would be buried in snow soon the way it was coming down. I rubbed Cora’s tummy, needing to feel her squirmy and warm under my hand.

“Who picked you up?” Uncle Steve asked.

“Cam Walsh. I knew him in high school, actually.”

“Walsh? That queer kid?”

“No!” Not that I actually knew one way or another, but I instinctively wanted to defend him to Uncle Steve. Not that being queer should have warranted a defense, but with my uncle…

Uncle Steve grunted. “I thought he was raising yaks on a back corner of the Pinter place?”

“Oh, is that where we are? Yeah, I guess so.”

Hal Pinter was one of Southern Alberta’s most successful beef farmers, or had been when I left town. He owned a ton of land around Lonely Creek. The “big house” Cam had referred to must be Pinter’s.

“How the hell did you get all the way out there?” Uncle Steve demanded.

Cringing, I admitted my mistake with Coyote Trail. As Uncle Steve grumbled about how I’d clearly been out east too long, I drew Cora closer, making her giggle and kick by tickling her cotton-covered feet.

Uncle Steve said, “You know we’re spending the holidays with Janet’s family up in Edmonton, so you’ll have to figure out towing the car on your own. We got on the road this morning ahead of the storm.”

I sucked in a breath. It made sense. How could I blame them? But it still hurt that they hadn’t waited to say hi to me and meet Cora. Let alone invite us along in the first place so we could spend Cora’s first Christmas with family.

I said, “Right, of course. I don’t want to mess up your plans.” I swore I could almost hear him thinking that I’d already royally screwed up his plans for my house.

No. Not my house. Uncle Steve owned it fair and square. It didn’t matter that I’d grown up there. It was a rental property now.

In the silence, I added, “I’ll take care of it. I just didn’t want you to worry or anything.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sighed. “Carol’s all right?”

“Cora. She’s great. Thanks. Talk to you later.”

As I returned the phone to its cradle, Cam stomped back into the cabin, Toby at his heels. I curled my bare left toes on the rug, shivering in the gust of cold air. Stone-faced, Cam kicked the door shut behind him, then took off his hat and coat, hanging them on the single hook by the door and leaving his boots on the mat.

Did Cam know how bad this storm was supposed to be? I wanted to say something, but I was afraid he’d bite my head off.

Wearing jeans and a plaid work shirt over a thermal, he crouched by the mat to brush snow off Toby, who strained toward me excitedly but stayed put by the door until Cam gave him a pat on the rear. Nails tapping the wooden floor before being muffled by the rugs, Toby skidded over to me, his tail wagging violently.

Still sitting on the side of the bed with one hand on Cora, I petted him. He was brown and tan with spots—maybe part Collie? Hard to say. One of his floppy ears looked like it had been savagely torn, a great hunk of it missing. “Hey, boy,” I murmured. “You’re friendly.”

In his thick green socks, Cam crossed to the kitchen area, switching on a hot plate sitting on the counter. He filled the kettle and put it on the burner. He asked grudgingly, “You want coffee?”

“That would be amazing. Thank you.”

As I reminded myself yet again that awkward silence was much better than freezing to death, Cam made drip coffee with a plastic filter holder set over one mug and then another. He dragged the battered side table beside the rocker closer to the bed and thudded down a mug on it. “Here.”

“Thanks.” The coffee was strong and black, but I didn’t ask for cream and sugar the way I normally would. I sipped what I could get gratefully, tickling Cora’s kicking feet and giving myself a minute to breathe.

With Toby by his feet, Cam sat in the rocker, his stiff back to me. He could have been a statue. His wide shoulders looked like granite, and there was no relaxed rocking. What did he do out here all alone without even a TV? Just read ? Apparently.

The log in the stove popped and sizzled, and I wished we could turn on some random TV show to break the tension. I’d never wanted to watch one of the terrible twenty-four-hour news stations more.

I couldn’t get over how huge Cam was. I’d been twice his size when we were teenagers. Cam had caught up and then some.

“This is wild,” I said, needing to fill the silence. “I never would have thought…”

“What?” Cam snapped.

“When I imagined seeing you again, it wasn’t like this.” I thought of his splotchy red face that terrible day and opened my mouth to apologize, even though it was far too little and way, way too late.

Cam snorted. “That we can agree on. Look, we’re stuck here tonight. We don’t need to catch up or chitchat.”

I had to do it. Rip off the Band-Aid. My mouth was dry, my pulse racing. “Can I just say—”

“ No. ”

He hadn’t yelled. He’d gritted out the word like it was jammed in his throat. We both knew what I’d wanted to address. As much as I wanted to make things right—or at least tell him I truly was sorry—of course I’d respect Cam’s wishes. I choked down the regret, a familiar action after all these years.

Cora screwed up her face, squeezing her brown eyes shut. That was her poop expression, and soon her full diaper would have her screaming. I gulped the fortifying coffee and reminded myself again that:

A) Awkward and/or angry silence was better than freezing to death.

B) It was likely only until morning.

I was determined to think positively. The media always blew snowstorms out of proportion these days. Everything was the “storm of the century,” and then it would turn out just fine.

Still, it was going to be a hell— heck of a long night.