"My ankle's better," I continue. "I can help more. Pull my weight. I just... I'd like a little more time. To figure things out."
"Figure what out?"
"What I want." I swallow hard. "Who I want to be. Where I belong."
The last word hangs in the air between us, loaded with meaning. He's still watching me, expression unreadable in the shadows.
"The cabin's there," he says finally. "If you want it."
It's not a declaration of feeling. Not an invitation to something more. Just a simple statement of fact. But coming from Caleb McKenna, it feels like the most honest offer I've ever received.
"I'd like that." My voice is barely above a whisper.
He nods once, decision made. "Rest tonight. I'll pick you up in the morning. Nine work?"
"Nine works perfectly."
We sit in silence for another moment, neither wanting to break the fragile understanding we've reached. Then, with reluctance that seems mutual, we get out of the truck.
He walks me to my door, Ruby following at his heels. At the threshold, I turn to face him, suddenly nervous in a way I haven't been since high school.
"Goodnight, Caleb. Thank you for today."
He nods, hands shoved in his pockets. "Nine," he reminds me.
"I'll be ready."
I watch as he walks back to his truck, Ruby jumping in the back without being told. As they pull away, I realize my heart is pounding, cheeks flushed with something that feels dangerously like hope.
My ankle's better. The roads are clear. I have every reason to leave, to return to my life in New York, to the path I was on before I got lost in these mountains.
But as I close the motel room door behind me, I know with absolute certainty that I'm not ready to go. Not yet.Maybe not ever.
6
LILA
Two weeks later, the fire crackles in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the cabin walls. Outside, snow has been falling steadily for hours, adding another layer to the blanket already covering the mountain. I stand at the window, a mug of tea warming my hands, watching the flakes drift down in the glow of the porch light.
"It's beautiful," I say softly. "Like we're inside a snow globe."
I hear Caleb shift in his chair where he's been reading, and feel his eyes on me. Something has been building between us since I returned to the cabin—a tension, a pull that grows stronger every day.
"Storm's not letting up tonight," he says, his deep voice sending a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the cold. "Might be snowed in tomorrow."
I turn to face him, unable to suppress my smile. "Snowed in with you and Ruby? Sounds perfect to me."
I hear the warmth in my own voice, the invitation I haven't quite had the courage to voice directly. Whatever is growingbetween us remains unspoken, hovering in every shared glance, every accidental touch.
He stands, moving toward me with that fluid grace that still catches me off guard. This powerful man, so at home in his body, in this wilderness. When he reaches my side, I tilt my face up, tea forgotten in my hands.
"What are we doing, Caleb?" I whisper, searching his eyes in the firelight.
His hand moves to my face, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. The simple contact sends warmth flooding through me.
"I don't know," he admits, voice rough like gravel. "This wasn't the plan."
"Plans change." I set my mug on the windowsill, never breaking his gaze. "Sometimes for the better."
