Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

NICHOLAS

I’m so damn mad right now. Not at Avery or her unintended find in the kitchen, but my inability to let her into my world, topped off with several statements I desperately want to take back.

Part of me realizes that it’s better this way. We had one amazing night together, but I come with far too much emotional baggage, and she just unloaded her last relationship.

The last thing I want is to fall for her and discover I’m a rebound.

Instead, I opened my dumb mouth and hurt her first, which is the last thing I wanted to do.

The woman is sunshine—pure, unadulterated sunshine, and I came and rained all over her happiness.

We ride my snowmobile to her rental cabin, with only the sound of the wind whipping against us as it slices through the snow. No chance to talk or dig myself a deeper hole.

As soon as I pull into the driveway, she climbs off, dusting the snow from her clothes.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, averting her gaze. “If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll grab you some money for your troubles.”

“That’s not necessary.”

She nods and turns, walking to the door. “Thanks again for saving me.”

But I know the truth. She saved me. For one night, at least, I felt whole again.

“Avery,” I call out.

She stops but doesn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“I don’t regret it. I don’t regret us.” I can barely choke the words out as emotions clog my throat.

Avery pivots, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t do that. Your honesty is one of your best qualities, even if it’s brutal. I’m a big girl and I’ll be fine.”

She steps into the cabin, and I hear her turn the lock, shutting me out.

If this is for the best, why do I feel so terrible?

Honestly, I don’t know what to do now.

Do I knock on her door and insist on speaking my truth? Buy her some flowers in town and grovel a bit? Forget she existed and return to life as I know it?

Every idea terrifies me, but the last one holds the comfort of the familiar, even if I hate myself for riding away from her cabin.

I ponder the last twelve hours on my ride back, replaying all the strange facts that don’t quite add up in Avery’s story.

She claimed to know Walter, swore he was the man who led her to safety last night.

But that’s an impossibility.

Walter died the same day as Courtney, and he has no other kin in the area.

Is my wife’s father haunting the woods around my home? I’m sure he carries a lot of hatred where I’m concerned, since I’m the reason he’s dead.

I’m the reason they’re both dead. I’m a monster for taking the years they had left, and now I serve my lifelong penance.

Perhaps one day, they’ll forgive me, although I doubt that I’ll ever forgive myself.

North Carolina has had some strange weather lately. It can be below freezing one day and t-shirt weather the next.

Such is the case as I patrol my property the day after the snowstorm, the melting snow turning everything into a muddy mess.

It’s in the sixties and sunny today—the snow doesn’t stand a chance.

I spent most of last night and this morning talking myself out of riding to Avery’s cabin, not that I have a clue what to say or how to make it better.

Hell, she’s probably left already.

That thought claws at my heart because I can’t recall her last name. She mentioned it once last night, but I was too shocked by her arrival to absorb all the details. Plus, I have no idea where she lives, and I’m damn certain she won’t be looking me up anytime soon.

She’s gone and she’s never coming back.

No way, I won’t let her leave my life like that. If she’s gone, I’ll badger the property owner to disclose her name. Then, I’ll track her down and apologize until she listens.

Or maybe that’s the dumbest idea yet.

God, I wish I had a crystal ball right now.

Still, I owe it to Avery to make amends. Time to head into town.

As I crest the ridge on the far side of my property, I spy something leaning precariously in the melting snow.

Moving closer, my mouth drops open.

It can’t be.

But it is.

Walter’s walking stick. I’d know it anywhere, mainly because I had it made for him a few years before his death.

I spent a pretty penny on the handcrafted stick carved with emblems of his beloved home—bears, pines and the rhododendrons that dot the mountain landscape. They even carved his name in the wood, and as I run my fingers along the letters, I recall how happy Walter was to receive it.

He used it on every trek into the woods, called it his good luck charm.

But it disappeared after he died, and I always assumed it was destroyed in the crash.

I know one thing for certain—I’ve traversed these woods hundreds of times since their death, and never saw his walking stick before. There’s no way I could have missed it, stuck in the middle of the trail in plain sight.

Maybe someone is playing a trick on me.

But that makes zero sense, as no one besides Walter or Courtney knew the connection between the walking stick and me.

“Walter? Are you here?” I look around, half-expecting to see my father-in-law lounging on a stump, a crooked grin decorating his face.

But there’s nothing there, save for the incessant water dripping from the trees.

“Avery met you, didn’t she?” I continue, holding up the stick. “You saved her. You brought her to me.”

The breeze picks up at that moment, and a shard of sunlight beams down on my face. Perhaps it’s a coincidence, or like Avery, I’m losing my mind.

Or maybe Walter led Avery to my door that night.

Maybe he was trying to save us both.