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“Morning.”

She narrowed her eyes, peering at me the same way she had when I was a kid and I’d done something wrong. Only this time it was her, not me. “You’re angry with me.”

“Shouldn’t I be?” I asked.

“I promised not to talk to Jack, which I have not done. You said nothing about talking to Grant.”

“Is that some kind of mother loophole?” I asked.

She didn’t answer, adding a packet of sugar to her coffee.

“He was really mad that I’d told you. We had a fight over it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. However, he shouldn’t be mad at you. I’m the one who broached the subject.”

“Mom, do you hear yourself? You interfered when I asked you not to.”

“Well, you’ve left me no choice,” Carol said.

“Why would you do that without asking me first?”

“Because I’m your mother. I worry. This whole thing has me fretting.”

“Mom, it’s fine.”

“Honey, you deserve better than sneaking around.”

I looked into her eyes that were so similar to my own. In her high school senior photo, she was beautiful. Bright and shining with hope. The biggest smile anyone could ever hope to see. Life had worn her down by the time she turned thirty. My age now, I thought. She’d already had two kids and a man who left her with nothing but the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. Responsibility that should have been shared with him. Instead, she had to do it all alone. It had made her suspicious and protective. I could hardly blame her. Plus, she was right. I shouldn’t be sneaking around like this.

“He’s going to tell Jack,” I said. “Before the wedding.”

“Good.”

“Do you really think Jack will be all right with it?” I asked.

“Jack’s a good brother. He’s looked after you all your life. He’s not about to stop now.”

“Do you think I’m selfish to put him in this position?”

“It’s not a matter of selfishness.” She let out one of her long, motherly sighs. “That’s what I’m trying to get into that thick skull of yours. It’s about you asking for and taking what you need. I didn’t raise you to accept scraps.”

“Well, he said he’s going to tell Jack, so I guess we’ll see.”

“I guess we will.”

I left her to her breakfast, heading outside to get some fresh air. Snow fell all around me, but without any bite, just fluffy, happy flakes. As if we were in a protected snow globe. But I knew better. Life was not a snow globe that held me safely. Not even here in the most beautiful place in the world.

That afternoon, I attended the baking class with Elliot. The lesson was on puff pastry for beef Wellington, which turned out to be an exercise in patience I did not have. You fold the butter in, you roll it out, you fold it again, and then you put it in the refrigerator and wait. Then you do it again. Four times. I have never wanted to hit something so badly in my life. Grant didn't attend, but Jack did. Which meant he would not be speaking to my brother while my dough chilled.

On the twentieth we had a campfire out past the barn. Almost everyone was there, all bundled up against the falling snow. Jack and Knox brought their guitars for a sing along that was more fun than I thought it would be.

Finley had said earlier that the weather forecast predicted a storm on the twenty-second. By the end of the evening the snow was falling heavily, but there was no wind to speak of. As we all headed off to bed, one of the staff announced that Finley would be in touch via text if the storm did come, with instructions about what to do.

“That’s what those ropes are for,” Grant said, as we walked shoulder to shoulder toward the cabins. He gestured toward the connected ropes around the ranch. “They design them for blizzards. In case anyone gets stuck out there, if they can find the ropes, they can find their way back to a structure of some kind.”

“Finley mentioned that to me when I checked in,” I said. “But I have no intention of being out in a storm.”

“You go ahead in,” Grant said as we arrived at my cabin. “I’ll come over in a few minutes if the coast is clear.”