“He what!” Clay got so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear for a moment.
“No, not like that,” I hastened to explain. “He said… shit. This is coming out all wrong.”
“It better be. Now explain to me, using small words, what the hell you’re talking about.”
So I did. Clay was quiet as I went through what happened.
“Matt,” he growled. “You donotsleep with that man. I can’t believe… you know what? I’m going to come pick him up. His sister is still at his place, so she can either take care of him or he can go back to New York.”
I stared at my phone for a moment. I couldn’t imagine why Clay was so angry. “What? No. He’s not going anywhere. I want him to stay here. He didn’t upset me. I just got nervous.”
“Not the point. I’m leaving the office now. I’ll be there shortly.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
I could tell his temper was on the rise, but so was mine.
“I said no. I’m not a child. I invited him here, so he’s staying. If—and let me stressif—I decide that I want to pursue a relationship with him, that’s my decision, not yours. I appreciate you trying to help, but you need to back off.”
He sputtered, said a few curse words, and then hung up. I took several deep, satisfying breaths before I slipped my phone back into my pants. It felt good to finally stand up for myself, even if only for a few minutes. I waited to see if Clay would call back, and when he didn’t, I went into the kitchen to put some things together in the Crock-Pot for tomorrow’s lunch and dinner, then stepped outside. The air had turned bitter. I looked at the old thermometer that hung on the side of the greenhouse and shivered when I saw it showed three degrees, far below our average of forty. I was starting to get a bad feeling about this.
…WITH OVERNIGHTtemperatures falling to minus eight and dropping throughout the week! We’ve got a snowstorm forming in Canada that might bring us an early Thanksgiving gift that we doubt anyone wants: Up to sixteen inches of snow, with another front that has the potential to drop even more a few days after. Get those long johns out, because you’re gonna need them.
I switched the radio off, having learned everything I needed to know. The first powerful front of winter was bearing down on us weeks earlier than normal. I peeked into the bedroom. Charlie was still out, which was good. I had to make a decision. If the area was going to be buried by snow, then it might be best for Charlie to go back to town so he had access to the hospital, just in case something went wrong.
I fumbled with my phone when I took it out of my pocket. How much did it suck that I’d just told my brother off, and now I needed his help? I scrolled until his name came up and was ready to push the button when Charlie’s voice came from the bedroom.
“Matt? Where are you?”
I put the phone down on the table and hurried to see what Charlie needed.
“Oh, I thought you might have gone out.”
I tried really hard not to look at him like he was talking crazy. “Where would I go?”
“I don’t know. Fishing?”
My chin dropped to my chest. Yeah, I wasn’t thinking straight. Again. I should get dressed and go see about adding more provisions to the freezer.
“Hey, come here,” he said, patting the edge of the bed.
I sat gingerly, ready to bolt if the need arose. He reached out and took my hand, wrapping his fingers in mine.
“How are you feeling?”
“To be honest, a little rough.” He scratched his cheek and yawned. “Those pills really do a number on me.”
I rubbed a thumb over the back of his hand, which seemed to calm both of us. “And your ribs?”
“As long as you don’t make me laugh, I think I’ll live.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m not funny.”
He chuckled, then winced. “Yeah, you can be. Dry humor, but still makes me laugh.” He smiled and I turned my head away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
