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“And?”

I found myself sugar coating the ugly truth. “There have been … things … that have transpired between us. But we both know it’s too risky to go beyond this month. She’s got her clinic to run. We’ll be back to normal life in the new year.”

Not the real problem, I said to myself. And you know it. We could work out the logistics of a relationship between two professionals.

This was about Jack. It had always been Jack. I couldn’t bear to hurt him.

“Regardless, I’m caught in a web of secrets,” I said. “Feels like I can’t so much as look Jack in the eye. I’m being slowly tortured.”

He cursed under his breath. “This whole temporary world we’ve been living in has created havoc for us. I’m sorry.”

“I keep telling myself that a month with her is better than no time at all. But as the days go by, I’m starting to wonder if I was right about that. The longer we’re together, the more I want.”

“I wish I had some advice for you, but I’ve got nothing.”

“Same goes for me,” I said.

“I guess we just sit here in front of the fire until the storm blows over.”

“If only it were that easy,” I said.

23

LUCI

December 23

Digging Out & the Rehearsal Dinner

Storm winding down, thank the Lord!

Supper: June James’s chicken & dumplings · Green salad · Collard greens · Spicy Cowboy Cider

I surfaced from a restless sleep around eight. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, until it all came rushing back. The storm. Seeing Grant out in it, rescuing someone I could only assume was Knox. Sitting alone all night in my cabin as the wind shrieked, worried out of my mind. I'd tried to text him a dozen times. None of them had gone through. And the longer I'd sat there, the angrier I'd gotten.

Why in the world would he and Knox have been out in the storm? I hadn't been able to see well enough to know exactly what happened, but I would know Grant anywhere because of his size. I'd been almost certain the other man was Knox. But again, why? Why would either of them have risked it?

I'd reminded myself about the blindfold. He'd learned the feel of ground under his boots and the smell of one stand of trees from another because his father would leave him out there and drive away. If anyone on this ranch could come back out of that, it was Grant.

I'd paced around my cabin with nothing but the fire and a dim lantern to light the room. I'd put on three layers of clothing to fight the frigidity of the room. And I'd been scared. I couldn't eat any of the sandwiches the staff had brought by. I opened a bottle of wine around eight and drank two glasses fast. Then I had the bright idea to take a sleeping pill. Not wise. I know because I'm a doctor. But at that point, I was in such agony I couldn't do anything but numb myself and crawl into bed.

So this morning, with the storm done and a mocking blue sky in its place, I felt foggy, hungry, and slightly hungover. I went to the window. The staff was digging us out using various equipment and a lot of hands. However, at this point, there were still feet of snow on my porch and the walkway. It would take them all morning to clear it all.

I showered, made coffee, and ate one of the sandwiches, all of which made me feel physically better but the ache in my chest remained.

Finley knocked at half past eight, holding a clipboard and a pink box that smelled like donuts.

“Good morning, love,” Finley said in her English accent. “I’m making the rounds. Did you make it through all right?”

How was this woman always so cheerful?

“I’m okay now. But I was scared to death. Is everyone all right? Have you checked on Grant yet? His cabin was dark all night.”

“No one answered when I knocked on his door,” Finley said. “Which means he’s probably with someone else.”

My stomach dropped down to my knees. “I think I saw him and Knox out in the storm.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you sure?”