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“Wait till the end of February,” Amy said. “Then most of my work is fighting hypothermia in lost skiers and hikers up in the mountains.”
“Oh, I’m not waiting till February. Not staying longer than I have to. In fact”—Jenny winked—“my secret plan is to pack you up and take you with me to North Carolina.”
The scent of Stowe—crisp snow and nature mixed with a whiff of freshly baked muffins, pies, and meat casseroles—wasn’t welcoming as it used to be. It was a painful reminder of the comfort of home she’d felt in Inverlochy, when she had been happy with Craig.
The comfort she’d lost.
The man she’d lost.
She’d happily trade the scent of muffins and pies for the scent of stew, and the warmth of her cozy home for the coolness of the castle walls.
And the touch of his hands, his body, his moss-green gaze, and being called “lass” a hundred times a day.
“Ah well,” Amy said through a forced smile. “My home is here. I’m needed.” She gestured at Mount Mansfield.
“I’m so glad you got your old job back,” Jenny said. “And sorry it took me so long to come and see you.”
“No, no, please don’t apologize. You have a job. You cannot babysit your older sister. I’m fine.”
Amy felt her sister’s inquisitive eyes on her. “You don’t look fine, hon.”
She glanced at Jenny quickly. “No? Well, I am.”
Amy looked straight ahead of her, her shoulders tensing. She wanted this freedom, right? She didn’t want to be in a relationship. She’d told herself that many times after she’d come back. This was the right decision.
“If I’m not yet, I will be,” she said, decisively.
“Okay, I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. What are you hiding?” Jenny asked, concern in her voice.
Amy swallowed. Her nose was freezing, so were her cheeks. She’d told Jenny she’d gotten lost underground in the tunnels in Inverlochy, and when she woke up, the class was gone. She said she’d been tired of babysitting and had decided to stay alone to explore the Highlands and got lost in the mountains. That’s what she’d told the Scottish police, too.
But Jenny had never bought that story. She hadn’t asked many more questions over the phone, but Amy knew they had been brewing in her sister’s head and waiting to be asked when she arrived.
Amy was tired. All that time she’d lied to Craig had made her miserable. She didn’t want to lie to Jenny.
“I’ll tell you once we have something alcoholic in front of us. I’ll just tell you the truth. You’ll probably think I’m a lunatic. I’ll tell you anyway. You can decide if you think I’m a huge liar for the rest of your life.”
“That sounds ominous,” Jenny said.
“You have no idea.”
They arrived at the pub, one of three in Stowe. It had the classic, dark-wood interior of a ski resort. The scents of beer and bleach surrounded Amy. A hockey game was on the TVs, and rock music played over the speakers. The familiar scene where Amy had come hundreds of times with her SAR buddies, and Nick, felt tense and small and confining. How had she felt cozy here before?
They took a booth by the window, and Amy bought a beer for Jenny and a scotch for herself. They clinked glasses, and Amy took a sip, letting the liquid burn her mouth and throat and settle like a small fire in her stomach. It was richer and more sophisticated than the uisge she’d had in Inverlochy with Craig, and it was only an echo of the taste that reminded her so much of her adventure.
But she craved anything, anything at all, that might bring her closer to Craig in some way. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining she was drinking from a silver cup in the great hall of Inverlochy Castle. The whiskey was like a part of him she wanted to absorb into her system.
Daily desperation, sadness, and loss were like heavy cast-iron handcuffs on her wrists. Her shoulders ached, her muscles were tense. Would she ever stop hurting?
“I see you acquired some Scottish tastes,” Jenny said. “Don’t remember you ever drinking scotch before.”
Amy chuckled. “Especially since it was Dad’s poison of choice.”
“Yeah.”
They kept silent for a moment.
“So, what happened?” Jenny said carefully.
