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Suddenly, an idea pops into my head and I grin. I know just the thing – I’ll make breakfast! I’m not much of a cook because my family has always employed Gina, but I’ve made the occasional eggs and pancakes platter for myself. Dane’s stove is weird and vintage, but I’m sure it’s the same principle.
“What are you doing?” Dane asks as I walk into the kitchen.
“You stay there,” I say firmly. “I want this to be a surprise.”
The mountain man doesn’t reply, but thankfully he doesn’t follow me, either. I hum to myself as I bustle around the tiny little kitchen. I find a cast iron skillet under the sink and set it on the stove before grabbing butter, eggs, bacon, and the ingredients for pancakes from the fridge. Soon, the small space is filled with the scent of eggs frying in butter and bacon sizzling right on the stove top.
When I’m finished, I’m pretty proud of my work. It doesn’t look like world class cuisine, but it looks hearty and comfortable and that’s good enough for me.
“Breakfast!” I call in a cheery voice. “Come and get it!”
I set everything down on the table and then take my seat as I wait for Dane. When he appears, he doesn’t smile as he sits down.
“I made everything,” I say happily. “There’s fresh bacon and eggs, and—“
“I can see that,” Dane says drily.
My muscles tense and I turn to him in confusion. “What’s wrong?” I ask softly. “What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”
Dane doesn’t reply for a long time. “No,” he says finally. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Emma.”
Something about the tone of his voice is unsettling. It reminds me of the first time we met, when he was pacing around the cabin like a wild animal. I had sensed a powerful well of strength in him that day, but also a very private wall. For a long time, it seemed like the wall was starting to come down.
But now I wonder if I made the whole thing up. Did I imagine this, our closeness and our intimacy?
“There wasn’t any maple syrup,” I say as I help myself to a stack of pancakes. They came out perfectly – thick and doughy, just the way that I like them. “But I used a lot of butter, so they should be good. And you know what? We could grow berries in the spring and add those, wouldn’t that be so yummy?”
Dane doesn’t reply. He takes a single piece of bacon and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. I can see the muscles twitching in his jaw under his beard.
“And the next time I go into town, I’ll get maple syrup for us, maybe I can even find some that’s locally made,” I chatter on. “And I’ll get some Doritos, wouldn’t you like that? I can get some wine, too – or are you more of a beer person?”
Still, Dane says nothing.
“And then for dinner, I was thinking I could make some roasted vegetables with our steaks. I saw some potatoes in the pantry. Gina – you know, my family’s chef – used to make this really awesome dish! She’d cut potatoes in half and then roast them in the oven with olive oil and sea salt and it was so simple, but like, so good.”
Dane stares at me dully and finally, I stop talking.
“Sorry,” I mumble under my breath. My cheeks flush hotly. “I was probably babbling on like an idiot.”
To occupy myself and my big mouth, I take another bite of pancakes. They’re so good that I can’t help moaning a little bit as I chew.
“You can’t stay here, Emma.”
My jaw drops and the food falls to my lap as I look up at Dane in shock.
“What?”
“You heard me. I said that you can’t stay here. You have to go.”
I press my lips together nervously and wipe my chin with a napkin. “What are you talking about, Dane? What’s going on?”
“You should try to patch things up with your father, Emma. He’s family. He’s your blood – he raised you.”
The first thing I feel is shock. It’s like being plunged into a pool of ice water. Cold and horrible and painful. Goose bumps break out over my skin and I wrap my arms around my body and hug myself tightly.
He wants me to go?
He can’t be serious.
“Was the breakfast really that bad?” I make an attempt at a joke, but Dane doesn’t laugh. When he doesn’t answer, I stare at him. “Why do you want me to go?”
Dane sighs. “What we had was just a fling, and I think deep down, you know that to be true. I don’t want you here.”
His words are absurd and I burst out laughing. It’s not appropriate, I know, but I can’t help it. “You can’t be serious,” I reply. “There’s no way. We’re … well, we’ve gotten so close. I came to you because I needed help.”
