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She couldn’t hold back the giggle that bubbled from her chest.
“Ah.” Bennett pulled her against him and wrapped both arms around her. “That’s what I was after.”
Circling an arm around his waist, Hazel snuggled against him as they gently swayed. “A laugh? That seems like a puny goal.”
“I love your laugh, Zel. It’s like finding a rare gem. And it’s been a stressful week.” Seriousness weighed his tone, a sharp contrast to a few moments before. “I could use something light and happy.”
Hazel leaned back and looked at him. Those beautiful eyes that—for the record—were quite pretty to look at, had lost their smiling sheen. She cupped his jaw. “I want to help you, Bennett.”
He nodded. But there was something reserved in his wordless response. Like he hoped for something more. Rather than pursuing whatever that was, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers. Then he let her go, took her hand, and moved toward the stairs. “Shall we paint?”
Fourteen
Janieleanedbackonher hand and took in the fall afternoon. A breeze rustled through the tops of the spruce trees at higher elevations, stirring the air with a whisper of autumn before dropping to the aspens. Those golden leaves—what remained on the branches—shimmered in the sunshine as they quaked, making a sound like soft rain. Inhaling, she closed her eyes and imagined that she was completely at ease in this lovely moment.
But she wasn’t.
Swallowing back a discontented sigh, Janie lowered her chin and returned her attention to the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and banana lunch that Grady had provided. It’d been thoughtful of him to pack something for their hike. And this vista at a bend in the creek had all sorts of sweet outdoorsy-date vibes.
But she wasn’t feeling it.
Even when she really focused on those romantic vibes, which were right there in front of her, Janie couldn’t make them root and force them to grow. Because every time she tried, an invasive weed named Hunter Wallace sprouted in her mind.
They’d come to the creek often when they were younger. First as a pair of kids—along with Hazel—out looking for something to do after school. Fishing was Hazel’s preferred activity. It helped her not feel quite so displaced when she had to stay in town. Hunter had a thing for carving branches. He’d find tree litter scattered on the forest floor and whittle them into arrows or carve faces into the soft pine and aspen wood. Janie had just liked being with them.
As they grew older, Janie liked being with Hunter. Not that she’d outgrown hanging out with Hazel, but there had been a defined moment that had changed things between Hunter and Janie. One that refused to die in her mind.
He’d come down from Elk Lake alone—which wasn’t too common. And he’d stayed with Mama and Janie for five whole days. Mama’s expression had been stern, and she’d watched Hunter carefully during the first few days. Her only explanation was that Hunter had been hurt—which had been true and Janie knew it, because it was one of a handful of times that Mama had made the nearly hour-long drive to Big Sky to the doctor. She’d taken Hunter along.
Two days went by before Janie cornered Hunter. They’d gone to the creek trail together, just them. At the shoreline, Janie tossed rocks, trying to attain the coveted foot-tall splash. Hunter didn’t even pick up a single stone.
“What happened?”
Hunter scratched his hair behind his right ear. “I fell and cut my back.”
She’d seen him do that before—the itching behind his right ear. Settling her hands on her hips, she cocked one eyebrow. “Let me see.”
Though Hunter scowled, a rush of pink filled his face. “It’s fine.”
“I want to see it.” Janie took on Mama’s squinty eyes and don’t-talk-back-to-me tone. And it worked.
Hunter held a long look on her, and something in his eyes reached straight into her heart and claimed it for himself. Forever. Then he turned, tugging the back of his sweatshirt up. His grunt was the only indictor of pain, but that might have been because she didn’t see his face. She saw only that fierce jagged rip in his flesh. The home-pulled stitches were uneven, but they held the damaged flesh together. Fiery red surrounded the wound.
Janie reached and touched his back several inches below the wound. Initially his muscles flinched hard beneath her fingertips. But then he exhaled, and the body under her touch softened.
She didn’t say a thing after she removed her hand, and Hunter carefully dropped his shirt into place. But when he brought his gaze back around to meet hers, she met his eyes.
“What really happened?”
His gaze widened. “I fe—”
She shook her head. “I’ve played bull with you for years. I know your tells, Hunter, even if Mama doesn’t.”
Hunter visibly swallowed, and his brown eyes sheened before he shifted his stare toward the river. “Pops was drunk.” His voice hardened, but his lips twitched. “He came back to the cabin drunk and in a fury.”
Janie’s heart froze inside her chest. The block of ice was both painful and numbing. “He cut you?”
Shaking his head, Hunter blinked. “No. A bottle got broken, and I ended up rolling onto a glass shard.”
