“Ah, the cabin.”
I frown at the valley. “How do you know about the cabin?”
“You told me you were staying through the thaw. I called Tank to let him know, and he said”—Henry pauses for effect, the bastard—“and I quote, ‘Sullivan doesn't stay anywhere through anything that isn’t work. Something’s changed.’”
I rub my hand over my face.“Tank is a nosy son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, well, you can take the man out of the military, but youcan’ttake the military out of the man.Tank gathersintelligence.”
The kettle clicks off behind me. I hear Tessopenthe cupboard for the mugs—two now, instead of one. A small soundthat’sdoing strange things to my chest.
“There’s a—” I stop, looking out at the valley.
Henry doesn’t fill the silence, so I do.
“There’s a woman. She inherited the cabin below mine. She’s?—”
My gaze swings tothe cabinwindow, whereTess is standing atthecounter, wearingmy flanneland not much else.Her legs arebare,herhair tangled from sleep and from me.She’spouring water into two mugs. She lifts one to her face and breathes the steam.My chest does the thing it does now.
Mine. The word lands clean, like an axe finding the grain.
“She’s the one,”I say.
It’sthe first timeI'vesaid itout loud. The valleydoesn’tfall in. The porch boardsdon’tsplit. My voice just lays the truth down plain between Henry and me, and Henry, bless him,doesn’tmake me say it twice.
“I’d like to bring her with me.”
“Of course.”
“Yeah?”
“Sullivan, we have guest cabins at Havenridge. Daniel has guest cabins at Stoneridge. Take your pick. You’re welcome. Tess is welcome.”
“How do you know her name?”
“Tank.”
I huff out something thatisn’tquite a laugh.
A pause.“Come home, Sullivan. And bring your woman.”
My woman.Nothing has ever sounded so right.
“The wives will fold her into the family,” Henry adds. “You know how they are. There’ll be baking, soap-making. Goats.”
“Christ.”
“Yeah.”A small, real laugh from Henry.“Getthe cabindone. Get your woman packed. Get yourself in a truck. Call me when you cross the state line.”
“Will do.”
“And Sullivan?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you, brother.”
The fist in my throat comes back. I look hard at the treelineso Idon’tsayanything stupid.“Henry, don’t.”
