Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
From things like connection, joy, and love.
Holly sees the darkness too; she simply refuses to let it win. She fights back with kindness, with silliness, with jokes, and with relentless optimism that I mistook for naivety when it’s actually the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.
And I want to be part of her fight.
I want to stand beside her, to protect her light instead of trying to extinguish it with my cynicism. I want to be the man who makes her life easier, not harder. The man who adds to her joy instead of draining it away.
I don’t know if she’ll give me another chance. I may have burned that bridge beyond repair, but I have to try.
Because I’m in love with her.
I am. I feel the truth of it, stronger than any logical voice in my head insisting it’s too soon to have formed a lasting attachment.
I am deeply, remarkably in love.
But if there’s another man—if I read that moment at the inn correctly—then I’ll find a way to accept it. I’ll step back and let her be happy, even if it kills me. But I won’t give up without fighting for her first.
I have to show her that I can change, that I am changing, and that all I want is to be worthy of her trust.
Her heart.
I set down my glass and stand, pulling on my coat with decisive movements. It’s time to find her, to tell her everything I should have said this afternoon instead of spiraling into fear and confusion.
As I push through the pub doors, the cold wind hits like a prize-fighter aiming for vital organs. I gasp, shocked to find that I actually have to lean into it to keep from being forced backward.
The snow is falling heavily now, thick flakes that blur the lights strung across the square and muffle the sounds of the town.
This storm is worse than the forecast predicted.
Much worse and arriving earlier than expected.
I pull out my cell to text Elliot and let him know I won’t be home for a bit, but that I’m okay, only to find I have no signal. Not so much as half a bar.
I curse beneath my breath.
I’ll have to head back to the house before my siblings get worried. Sadly, talking to Holly will have to wait.
I’m heading for the parking lot where I left the snowmobile when I notice a small group huddled near the gazebo in the square. Their body language is tense, agitated. Even from a distance, I can sense that something’s wrong.
As I walk past, I spot Willow, her purple coat bright against the white snow, her face pale and strained.
“—can’t just wait here,” she says, her voice rising with panic. “She’s been out of touch for nearly an hour, and the storm is getting worse.”
My stomach drops.
I head straight for them, demanding as soon as I’m in earshot, “Who’s been out of touch?” even though some part of me already knows.
The group turns to look at me. Besides Willow, there’s an older man I recognize from the gingerbread competition and two middle-aged women bundled in winter coats.
“Holly,” Willow says, looking relieved to see me. “She was helping us look for Cheeks after he was chased into the woods. We split up about an hour ago with promises to meet here, but she didn’t show.”
The world narrows to a single, crystalline point of terror.
“What time was she supposed to meet you?” My voice sounds strange, distant.
“Around five-thirty,” the older man says. “The last time I saw her, she was heading up one of the old logging trails they keep plowed for winter hikers.”
“The logging trails?” My heart is pounding now, blood roaring in my ears. “That’s miles of forest.”
“We know.” One of the women nods, her face creased with worry. “We called the police from the landline at the post office, but they said they can’t send anyone. There’s been an avalanche at one of the ski resorts. All of their resources are tied up there. They said since Holly hasn’t actually been out in the elements that long, and she’s an experienced hiker, she’s low priority at the moment. They said to check back in if she’s not home by nine, but—”
“By nine?” I cut in, incredulous. “It’s a blizzard. She could freeze to death by nine.”
“We tried to tell them,” Willow says, her voice breaking. “But they wouldn’t listen. They said Holly likely found shelter somewhere and is waiting out the storm. They think everything will be fine, but…”
“But you don’t think so,” I finish.
Willow gives a tight, miserable shake of her head.
“I don’t either,” I agree. “I’ll find her. I’ll start looking right now.”
“Luke, no.” Willow grabs my coat sleeve. “The storm is too dangerous. You don’t know these woods the way Holly does, and the visibility is almost zero. You could get lost, too.”