Ty tilted his head and glared at his brother through narrowed eyes. “You are so close to getting punched.”
“OK. So you need another clue. It also rhymes with mess—which is the condition of your head since you left Minnesota.”
Ty clenched his jaw. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
Mike dropped his foot and leaned forward. “OK, fine. Then I’ll talk. You listen until I’m your favorite brother again.”
DECEMBER 21, THE first day of winter, had blown in with a vengeance in Minnesota. Dressed in old jeans, a turtleneck, and a heavy flannel shirt, Jess hugged her arms around herself and looked out the apartment window as snow drifted down in huge, heavy flakes. The wind was supposed to come up later tonight, and the storm threatened to dump eight to twelve inches across the borderland by morning to add to the five or six already on the ground.
Even though it was barely five P.M., in less than fifteen minutes, dusk would give way to dark. This storm was on track to match another winter storm almost two years ago, when Ty had blown in with his friends, saved two lives, and changed her life forever.
“What do you think, Bear? Should we go out for a quick walk before it gets any deeper?”
On cue, the dog started dancing in excitement at the word
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jess.”
“J.R. Hey.” Warmth flooded her chest, banishing her melancholy mood. “How are you?”
“I’m well.”
She and J.R. had talked often since he’d reunited with Rabia last week. Jess couldn’t be happier for them, although she couldn’t help but worry about his health. He still had some healing to do, both physically and emotionally. But she had to believe he was in a good place now. A place where he would continue to seek the help he needed.
“And Rabia?” She was so excited about the baby.
“She’s fine, too.”
While she would love to meet Rabia, she understood that now wasn’t the time. She didn’t want to make Rabia uncomfortable.
“So what’s happening?” she asked cheerfully, as Bear bounced by the door like a puppy—all eighty pounds of him.
“A lot. Too much to talk about. So I’m taking a breather. And I started thinking about you. About how lucky I am to have you in my life. I wanted to call and let you know that.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “I feel the same way. And I’m so glad you’re happy.”
“Have you called Ty yet?”
He asked each time they talked. “No,” she confessed.
“Ah, Jess.”
“I’m not ready.”
“You’re scared.”
“That, too,” she admitted. “I need to get myself together a little better before I call him.”
“Because you think he’s going to reject you.”
“I would, if I were him. He’s suffered losses, too, J.R. He lost his Navy career. He’s lost people he loved. What if I was the last straw? What if he’s reached a point where he’s afraid to risk losing again?”
“The man loves you so much that he risked his life to save mine, because he needed to be sure you were happy. I don’t think a man like that is afraid of much of anything.”
She stared at the Christmas tree and hoped J.R. was right. The part of her that doubted, however, had a stronger hold on her than the part that believed.
“Nothing to say to that?”
“I’ll call him. I will,” she promised. “I just need a little more time.”
“The man is suffering, Jess. Like I suffered without Rabia. Put him out of his misery.”
“I’ll work on it, OK?”
“You do that. Look, I’ve gotta go. I just wanted to check in. Take care of yourself. And give Bear a hug for me.”
“He misses you.”
“I miss him, too.”
“You’re going to have to come back and visit us when you’re both up to it. Thanks for keeping in touch with Brad, by the way. It means so much to him.”
“He’s my brother. I may not remember him yet, but it didn’t take long to figure out that he’s a good man. Don’t worry. We aren’t going to lose touch. None of us. I’ll call again before Christmas.”
“Take care.”
She disconnected, then stared at the phone for a moment, the melancholy creeping in again as she thought about Ty being as miserable and alone for Christmas as she was.
But then Bear whined pitifully and snapped her out of it. She bundled up in her boots, down coat, a stocking cap, and gloves and took him outside into the snow.
JESS TOOK BEAR on their usual route down the blacktop toward the lake and into the woods, but she cut the walk short at the halfway point. She’d barely made it out the door when the promised wind had picked up and the temp had dropped. The snow drove against her with such force it peppered her bare cheeks, and walking against it, she had to keep her head down to keep it from stinging her eyes.
“Sorry, buddy, we’re heading back.”
The blowing snow and deep drifts didn’t faze the Lab, but he changed course when she did and, energized by his romp in the woods, loped ahead of her down the road.
Normally, she would have kept him closer, but there was no traffic tonight on either the blacktop or the highway where the two roads intersected in a T. Anyone with half a brain would be tucked up tight at home, warm by the fire, waiting for morning, when they’d start the task of digging out.
In fact, the last time she’d seen the snow plow go by had been around four, and the local news reported that road crews would be called in early because of the severe weather conditions.
So when she saw headlights cutting through the snow and bearing east on the highway, heading toward the store, she not only marveled at the stupidity of the driver but also figured she’d soon be dealing with a stranded motorist. It wouldn’t be the first time. Some people had more balls than brains, her dad used to say.
Oh, well, she’d take them into the store and call Shelley, and then Darrin would come after them on a snowmobile and put them up for the night at the lodge.
She was still half a block away from the store when, sure enough, the headlights veered off the road, and the vehicle pulled into the parking lot and stopped under the light of the fuel pumps.
Bear, who never knew a stranger, trotted right up to what Jess could see now was an SUV.
“You’re a heck of a watchdog,” she grumbled, and tucked her chin deeper into her scarf to ward off the icy cold.
The driver’s-side door opened, and a man stepped out. She wasn’t close enough to make out his features, even under the security light, but something about him seemed familiar. Apparently, Bear thought so, too. The dog started jumping in happy circles and crying as if he’d found a long-lost friend.
The man went down on one knee to ruffle the dog’s coat and give him a hug. Bear jumped on him as if he was fresh meat, licking his face, nudging his hands, practically tackling him.
The man laughed then… and she stopped mid-stride, twenty yards away.
She knew that laugh.
She loved that laugh.
