opportunity for a fresh start and she wasn’t going to waste that
chance on a man who didn’t deserve her.
But why did it have to be like that? How could he have done
that to her back then when it seemed like he liked her so much? She would have
done anything for him. Even now, they still had such a connection that she knew
they could have been great together.
“Stupid,” she muttered to herself as she felt tears threaten
again. “Stupid.” Pulling a throw off the couch and wrapping it around herself,
she returned to the wood stove and sat down in front of it as she had when
she’d first gotten there. She hugged her knees and tried to concentrate on
nothing but the warmth of the fire.
As she listened to the wood pop and crackle, she let the
sadness wash over her from all those years ago when Dylan had broken her heart.
When she finally felt like she was on more solid ground, she
wiped at her eyes, wondering if her mascara had been running when she’d been
crying in front of Dylan. She laughed at herself, thinking that her solitary
trip home had been far more eventful than she could have imagined .
Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten yet. The
cabin was filled with the comforting smell of the simmering chili. She finished
cleaning up her wreck of a Christmas tree, happy to find nearly half of the
ornaments unbroken or fixable. She had thought they were all gone, so she
grateful for that small favor.
She grabbed her glass of wine, now nearly empty, and made
her way to the stove to ladle out her Christmas Eve dinner. Hanging on the wall
next to the kitchen was an old mirror and she stopped to clean herself up in
the tinny surface.
She took comfort in what she thought was an attractive woman
staring back at her. Her hair looked better than it had at eighteen because now
she better understood what worked for her and her eyes were still bright,
though a little red from crying. She was relieved to see that somehow most of
her makeup appeared pretty much intact. She managed a weak smile, thinking that
if a woman is going to run into an old lover, her only hope is that she looks
good when it happens. And Kip thought she looked pretty good in spite of the
crying, so she was at least pleased in that.
She turned off the burner and stirred the chili. Savory
aroma and steam poured off it, making her mouth water. She was glad she’d made
it—comfort food was exactly what she needed right now. She poured herself a new
glass of wine and opened the cupboard to get a bowl when there was a knock at
the cabin door.
What the hell?
She was sure it was Dylan but she couldn’t believe he’d
returned. Can’t this guy take no for an answer? A peek out the window
confirmed her suspicion—the now-empty Dalton Run Reclamation truck was outside
the cabin again.
Kip opened the door a crack and just looked at him, letting
her face ask the question. He held his hat in his hands and shifted uncomfortably.
“Why are you back here?” Her voice was edgy.
“Uh, I’m sorry to bother you again but I can’t get home.”
“What?” She couldn’t hide the incredulity in her voice.
“There’s a tree down, halfway down Clay Ridge Road. The snow
must have been too much for it. It happens a couple times a season. It’s
blocking the whole road. This road is so narrow anyway I almost couldn’t even
get my truck turned back around.”
She stared at him with her mouth open. He continued quickly,
“I tried! But it’s impossible, the tree is completely blocking the road. I
called it in but the crews won’t come out, not tonight.” He rubbed the back of
his neck self-consciously and looked back toward the road, “I could probably
take care of it myself but I don’t have my tools with me.”
She shook her head to clear it, trying to understand the
implications of what he was saying. He’d said the road workers couldn’t fix it
tonight… Her eyes went wide. “So you…you want to come in? You want to… stay
here ?
chance on a man who didn’t deserve her.
But why did it have to be like that? How could he have done
that to her back then when it seemed like he liked her so much? She would have
done anything for him. Even now, they still had such a connection that she knew
they could have been great together.
“Stupid,” she muttered to herself as she felt tears threaten
again. “Stupid.” Pulling a throw off the couch and wrapping it around herself,
she returned to the wood stove and sat down in front of it as she had when
she’d first gotten there. She hugged her knees and tried to concentrate on
nothing but the warmth of the fire.
As she listened to the wood pop and crackle, she let the
sadness wash over her from all those years ago when Dylan had broken her heart.
When she finally felt like she was on more solid ground, she
wiped at her eyes, wondering if her mascara had been running when she’d been
crying in front of Dylan. She laughed at herself, thinking that her solitary
trip home had been far more eventful than she could have imagined .
Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten yet. The
cabin was filled with the comforting smell of the simmering chili. She finished
cleaning up her wreck of a Christmas tree, happy to find nearly half of the
ornaments unbroken or fixable. She had thought they were all gone, so she
grateful for that small favor.
She grabbed her glass of wine, now nearly empty, and made
her way to the stove to ladle out her Christmas Eve dinner. Hanging on the wall
next to the kitchen was an old mirror and she stopped to clean herself up in
the tinny surface.
She took comfort in what she thought was an attractive woman
staring back at her. Her hair looked better than it had at eighteen because now
she better understood what worked for her and her eyes were still bright,
though a little red from crying. She was relieved to see that somehow most of
her makeup appeared pretty much intact. She managed a weak smile, thinking that
if a woman is going to run into an old lover, her only hope is that she looks
good when it happens. And Kip thought she looked pretty good in spite of the
crying, so she was at least pleased in that.
She turned off the burner and stirred the chili. Savory
aroma and steam poured off it, making her mouth water. She was glad she’d made
it—comfort food was exactly what she needed right now. She poured herself a new
glass of wine and opened the cupboard to get a bowl when there was a knock at
the cabin door.
What the hell?
She was sure it was Dylan but she couldn’t believe he’d
returned. Can’t this guy take no for an answer? A peek out the window
confirmed her suspicion—the now-empty Dalton Run Reclamation truck was outside
the cabin again.
Kip opened the door a crack and just looked at him, letting
her face ask the question. He held his hat in his hands and shifted uncomfortably.
“Why are you back here?” Her voice was edgy.
“Uh, I’m sorry to bother you again but I can’t get home.”
“What?” She couldn’t hide the incredulity in her voice.
“There’s a tree down, halfway down Clay Ridge Road. The snow
must have been too much for it. It happens a couple times a season. It’s
blocking the whole road. This road is so narrow anyway I almost couldn’t even
get my truck turned back around.”
She stared at him with her mouth open. He continued quickly,
“I tried! But it’s impossible, the tree is completely blocking the road. I
called it in but the crews won’t come out, not tonight.” He rubbed the back of
his neck self-consciously and looked back toward the road, “I could probably
take care of it myself but I don’t have my tools with me.”
She shook her head to clear it, trying to understand the
implications of what he was saying. He’d said the road workers couldn’t fix it
tonight… Her eyes went wide. “So you…you want to come in? You want to… stay
here ?
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