13. RAE

13

RAE

W inter was already in full swing in the mountains, the caps dusted with snow, but the town lay in a valley, and it was protected by the peaks around it.

The air had taken on a crisp bite, and the days were growing shorter.

I left the town and stepped into the trees, tugging my coat tighter around my body. After the recent storms, the forest looked different than it had before. Out here, where the country was wild and nature was in charge, I was in awe of how the landscape could change—the same place so different with the seasons. The land shifted with storms, or when snow coated the world, it was so easy to get lost in the streets we already knew by heart.

My life felt like a whole lot of that, too. The landscape I’d known all my life had kept changing with the seasons and storms I encountered.

First with Tanner, our fierce love, and then the heartbreak when he left. And then with Jethro in Chicago and the hell that had crept in with him, a raging storm now that nipped at my heels and threatened to consume me at any second.

I shivered as I made my way up the mountain. It wasn’t just from the cold.

Even though it had been a while since I’d landed in Silver Ridge, I still wasn’t sure I was safe. I didn’t know if Jethro would figure out a way to find me.

A part of me kept screaming that I had to keep moving to be safe, but with winter coming on, there was no way to survive if I was on the move. I had to make sure I had a place to stay that was warm and regroup when the weather changed.

It was the safest way.

Even though waiting it out was killing me.

I shook off the thoughts and turned my attention to the cabin that came into view.

Tanner had left a cryptic note that I’d found after work.

He wanted to see me at his cabin.

My heart beat in my throat. What did he want? What was this about?

I was terrified that he was going to tell me it had all been a mistake, that he didn’t want to see me again. But then, maybe if he wanted out, he could just keep running.

Bitterness coiled inside me, and I pushed it away. It wasn’t fair of me. I still didn’t know why he ran, but he was here, now. And no matter how hard I tried to tell myself it wasn’t like that… I was in love with him. My stupid heart seemed to forgive him for everything, no matter what.

The cabin wasn’t easy to spot between the trees, with all the pine needles and moss that covered most of it.

I walked to the door and knocked. When there was no answer, I knocked again, finally pushing it open. Something had to be wrong.

Why wouldn’t he be here?

I was suddenly terrified. What if this was Jethro’s doing? What if this was a trap?

“Tanner?” I called softly, stepping inside and closing the door against the chill.

“Rae,” he said, suddenly next to me, and I jumped with a small yelp. My nerves were fried.

“Tanner,” I gasped and pressed my hand to my chest. “It’s you.”

“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked with a chuckle.

I laughed with him, not willing to answer the question, that, yes, for a fleeting moment, I’d been worried it might be Jethro.

I tried to swallow down the fear and still my racing heart.

“Come on,” Tanner said and led me to a table I knew he’d made himself.

A simple but elegant picnic was laid out. A plaid blanket was draped over the wooden surface, and an array of dishes was arranged artfully. There was fresh bread, a variety of cheeses, and a hearty stew simmering on the stove. A bottle of wine stood in the center, two glasses already poured.

“You did all this?”

“Well, no.” Tanner scratched the back of his head. “The diner and the bakery are responsible for a lot of this. But the stew I did. Stews I can do.”

I smiled.

“Come, sit,” he said, pulling out a chair for me.

He was being such a gentleman. It was very different from the rough, rugged mountain man he’d become, and my stomach erupted in butterflies.

I took a seat, feeling a rush of warmth from both the fire that crackled in the hearth and his gesture. Tanner sat across from me, his presence grounding and comforting. We raised our glasses, the clink of the crystal a soft promise of the evening to come.

“What are we toasting to?” I asked.

“To us,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Just being together for now.”

“To us,” I echoed, feeling a lump in my throat. For now? I took a sip of the wine, its rich flavor warming me from the inside out.

We started with the bread and cheese, the conversation heading toward shallow topics, comfortable, safe. Tanner told me stories about his life in the mountains, the peace he found in the solitude. I listened, enthralled by his deep voice. But my gut turned as I ate and listened to the life he’d built out here after he’d left me behind.

Stop it , I scolded myself. He was being nice. He was making an effort. He was here, and so was I. We were together, and that was what mattered. After all, I was going to leave when the winter ended, and then it would just be the flipside of what happened before, right? It was unfair of me to judge him when I was preparing to do the same.

Dinner was amazing. It was simple, straightforward, and we drank wine with it until the room spun happily around me, and I felt like I relaxed for the first time in weeks.

The wine made me brave, too.

“Do you ever wonder what it could have been like?”

“What?”

“Building a life together. You know… this. But long-term.” I sipped my wine, watching him over the rim of my glass.

He didn’t squirm under my scrutiny. His eyes stayed on mine.

“All the time.”

I frowned. “What?”

He sipped his wine without responding.

“Tanner, why did you leave? What made you run?”

He hesitated, his eyes sliding toward the fire.

“Vito,” he finally said.

“Your boss, Vito?”

“The one and only,” Tanner said with a shrug. “I made a mistake. He said if I didn’t leave, he’d kill me.”

I gasped, staring at him.

“That simple, huh?”

He nodded and drank more wine, his eyes staying on me. He was completely unwavering, completely grounded in himself. He didn’t look away, didn’t fidget, nothing that would make someone think he was lying…

“I don’t believe you,” I said, sitting back in my chair. I knew Tanner, and I knew that he knew how to lie. And he was lying to me.

“Believe what you want, Rae,” he said softly.

I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut. “Fuck.”

When I looked at him again, he blinked at me, confused that I swore. “What?”

“You’re the opposite of everything I’ve had the past couple of years,” I said.

In vino veritas, right? I was saying a lot more than I should.

“What does that mean?”

“You’re so willing to stand back and let me be. Let me believe, let me leave.”

“I can’t control you.”

“That’s not what everyone believes. Jethro thought he could control me like a puppet, pulling strings to make me do just what he wanted.”

Shit, I was saying too much.

Tanner’s eyes darkened, but he remained silent, waiting for me to continue.

“At first, I didn’t see it,” I continued with a sigh, the wine loosening my tongue, my mind too slow to catch up. “He was charming, attentive. After you, I just wanted someone to choose me. You know?”

Tanner watched me, his expression stoic.

“But slowly, he started to take over every aspect of my life. He decided who I could see, where I could go, what I could do.”

I saw Tanner’s jaw tighten, his hand clenching into a fist around the stem of the wine glass, and I thought it would snap.

“I didn’t realize who he really was until it was too late,” I continued, the words tumbling out. “But I guess that’s how it is, huh?”

“What?” Tanner asked, finally speaking.

I looked up at him. “You never know until it’s too late.”

He knew I was talking about him now, about us. He shook his head and looked away.

“You don’t know everything,” he said.

“Then tell me.”

“As if you’re telling me everything!”

I bristled. “Damn it, Tanner.” I pursed my lips. “Why are you the death of me, and the air I breathe, at the same time?”

I blinked. I realized what I’d just said.

He stood and took my hand. He led me to the couch, sitting down with me. He held onto me, and I fit against his body perfectly, like we were made for each other.

“I’m sorry, Rae,” Tanner said, his voice deep and quiet. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Then he kissed me.

The next morning, the sun woke me, falling through the window, casting a warm glow into the room, but it was filtered through a flurry of snowflakes.

The first snow was falling.

I snuggled deeper under the thick furs, the weight of Tanner’s arm draped over my waist grounding me.

We hadn’t gotten around to drawing the thick light-blocking curtains. One thing had led to another. Tanner’s kisses always melted me, and when he’d pulled me on top of him, his muscular body writhing beneath me, hard for me, I’d given myself to him.

I couldn’t resist him, and the truth was that I didn’t want to. He’d always been my weakness and lately, I’d struggled to remind myself of all the reasons not to get involved with him again, not to let him get so close that losing him would mean I had to put myself together all over again.

The small voice in my mind kept reminding me that I couldn’t do this—I was going to have to run again when the winter was over and leave all of this behind—but my heart wanted to live in this fairy-tale world where nothing else existed.

Just me and Tanner.

I carefully shifted, turning to watch Tanner as he slept. His face was relaxed, a peaceful expression softening his usual gruff one. My heart constricted with love for him, a love that kept growing stronger even though I tried to keep my distance.

I was such a fool to fall right back into the past with him, but I couldn’t stop myself.

The light snow falling outside added a magical quality to the morning, but it meant that I was slowly running out of time.

A sudden wave of nausea hit me, turning my stomach. I closed my eyes, breathing through it. Was it the food Tanner had made last night? It was always wild, gamey, the meat he hunted for himself. Maybe there had been something—

Another wave of nausea rolled over me, and I wasn’t going to be able to breathe through this one. I wriggled out from underneath Tanner’s arm as carefully as I could and scrambled to the bathroom.

I made it just in time, heaving into the toilet as the nausea rocked through my body, depositing the last of what was in my stomach from last night.

I never got sick. Not unless I drank too much, but I’d only had two glasses of wine. Not enough for this…

After retching again, my body dry-heaving when everything I’d thrown up was already out of my system and there was nothing left, I sat back, my hands trembling.

This was just a random bout of sickness, right? It was just the food. Or the fear of Jethro. It couldn’t possibly be anything else.

Could it? We were always careful, Tanner making sure that he wrapped up…

The memories of our nights together flooded my mind, our bodies tangling together, but every time Tanner had stopped us to do the responsible thing. Even last night, when I’d just wanted him to take me.

But there had been one time. The first time, when we hadn’t been able to stop, hadn’t thought about anything other than getting him inside me, pressing our bodies together, fusing our hearts together to fix the ache he’d caused when he’d ripped us apart.

My stomach twisted with dread and more nausea. I leaned over the toilet, but nothing came.

How long ago had that been?

I rested my head in my hand. I counted the weeks since my last period, since the first time we’d slept together… the facts hit me.

I was never sick.

It had been too long since my period.

We hadn’t used a condom that first time.

It only ever took one time.

I was almost sure I was pregnant.

Shit.

The room spun around me as I struggled to think through the waves of nausea and fear that kept washing over me.

How could I have been so careless? What was I going to do now? The thought of telling Tanner filled me with dread. I didn’t know how he would react, but I couldn’t imagine it would be good. Besides, I couldn’t stay.

I would have to leave soon, and then none of this would have mattered.

Except that everything between us did matter.

And now I was pregnant.

You don’t know that , I tried to reassure myself, but damn it, I did know. I didn’t know how I knew, I just did.

And the thought made me feel even sicker than I already was.

Shit, shit, shit.