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Bennett snorted. “I think unless Janie brings it up, you’d best leave Isa out of it.”
A long stretch of thoughtful silence extended. Bennett moved to check on Nathan’s fire-building progress. A slim orange flame danced in the middle of a wood teepee, constructed exactly how Hazel had showed Nathan.
A well of pride deepened, and appreciation ran into it. “Nathan has a fire started.” Bennett took a step toward Hunter’s camp, but Hunter grabbed his arm.
“I’m not too proud to beg, if it would do any good.”
Man, Hunter was in deep. Every bit as much as Bennett was with Hazel. Sure seemed like one of them should come out with a whole heart and a happy ending.
“If I can keep my temper in check.”
Yeah, there was that too. They were but men, after all. And the women they loved seemed to have a special knack for pulling the crazy from them.
Bennett clapped Hunter’s shoulder. “I’ll pray for you, then.”
His hand was met by muscles so tightly bunched that Bennett feared they might tear at his touch. As they came near enough to the campfire where Nathan waited, Hunter shook his head. “Maybe you should pray for Janie.”
Bennett eyed Hunter, the shift in his friend’s tone marked. No longer was he the desperate man willing to grovel. Now irritation stamped every word.
Oh boy. Just thinking about Janie had obviously summoned the crazy in Hunter.
Nathan watched Hunter as he picked up a rock and tossed it into the lake. “Maybe this trip is exactly what she needs.”
His implication was clear: Janie would come home, head bowed in humiliation.
“You don’t mean that, Hunt.” It would tear Hunter’s heart up even more to see Janie defeated. Of that, Bennett felt certain.
Hunter tipped his head back and growled. Then he looked at Nathan. “Don’t ever fall in love. You’ll never think straight again.”
Nathan laughed.
Bennett shook his head and chuckled. “At least you can finally admit it.”
Janie flipped through her legal pad of notes. Her eyes felt gritty, and her head pounded with exhaustion, but even so, she nodded at the plan.
It would work. She hoped. Now, if only Ms. Crofton would agree . . .
After several minutes during which she splashed her splotched face with cool water, applied some makeup hoping that it would disguise the blue under her eyes, Janie descended the stairs from her living quarters, entered the café’s kitchen, and left through the back door.
The walk across town was brisk, and the evening stirred with a hint of snow as the sky rested in silence. Starlight and moonlight would be snuffed out by the thick blanket of clouds that had smothered the sky since late afternoon. Her visit should be brief, or her walk back home would be through inky blackness.
She rehearsed the lines she’d settled on while she’d pieced together her plan. Now if she could deliver them with convincing optimism . . .
As tired and emotionally strung out as she was, that felt like a herculean task. But Janie drew on the late dose of caffeine and the lingering swell of fury that had propelled her through the night before as she approached the old Elliot house, lifted her hand, and knocked on the door.
Gemma answered, her hair gathered up in a messy bun on the top of her head and her copper eyes bright. “Hi, Janie!”
“Good evening, Gemma. How was school?”
“I joined the cheer squad today. So that’s happy.” Her smile held the power of the Energizer Bunny. Even so, its brightness was false.
“I’m glad.”
Her shoulders drooped. Just a touch. “It’s small. And the school won’t allow tumbling or pyramids—something about insurance.”
“Oh.” Janie reached for her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Gemma shook off her threatening gloom. “Want to come in?”
