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Could it be good? Forever? The slim possibility felt as tantalizing as it did dangerous. Hazel wasn’t sure if she should indulge in it or run.
Luckly the kids chose that moment to bound out of the house, mugs of cider in hand, and make their way toward the fire. Well enough, that—the break away from the surge of emotion would give her a chance to get her head on straight.
Nathan handed Hazel a warm mug.
“Thanks.”
He grunted. Took a sip. Was it her imagination that his tense posture relaxed?
Elk Lake could do that—ease away the strife of life off the mountain and take a person to an unexpected place of solace. Hazel had witnessed it several times over the years as a hunting guide. Men would come up with the weight of the chaotic life born from too much noise, too much responsibility, and way too many possessions, and let it tumble from their shoulders as the simplicity of a campfire, an unbelievable night sky, and the quiet whispers of trees in a mountain breeze unknotted all the unnecessary complications.
How was it that she still had her own life complications?
Hazel glanced at Bennett, then let her vision travel over Gemma and Nathan. Complications?
Yes. But not the sort she wanted unburdened from.
As that mystery settled in her mind, she turned her gaze up to the crystalline evening sky. Blackness had captured the eastern portion, as a hem of yellow orange held on to the west. Just a few more minutes and the color would all wash away, leaving the darkness to rule alone.
No. That wasn’t so. On an evening they’d shared out on the dock late last January, she’d reminded Bennett of that, pointing out that the velvet black was merely the deep background to set off the white fire of the stars, allowing them to shine their best light.
The contrast of opposites was stunning.
A hand wrapped around hers, strong and warm. Knowing Bennett’s touch, she laced her fingers with his while she continued to take in the beauty above.
“It just doesn’t get old, does it?” Bennett asked.
“No.” She turned her grin to him. “Especially when you’re not afraid.”
“No more fear.” He winked.
“Hey, not to interrupt the sweet nothings going on over there”—Gemma made a mockingewface—“but I recall a promise of chocolatey gooey goodness.”
Bennett laughed and then rested his mug between a pair of river rocks in the fire-pit ring. “Right. I’ve got the s’mores supplies in the car. How about you come give me a hand?”
Gemma found a spot for her cider, and then the pair of them strode away toward Bennett’s car.
Silence extended as Hazel stood on one side of the ring and Nathan on the other. He sipped his cider, one hand tucked into his hoodie pocket, and stared at the bouncing orange and yellow flames.
“You always live here?” he asked.
Surprised he said anything, Hazel nodded. “Since I was a girl. My parents lived in Luna, which is where I originally lived until they died.”
“I didn’t know your parents died.”
“Yes. When I was just a girl.”
He took a longer swig from his mug. “Sometimes I think . . .” Nathan didn’t finish that.
Hazel imagined how he meant for it to end. That it would be easier if his parents had died? Man, that was a twisted, painful thing for a kid to think.
Had Hunter had such moments, thinking such hard things about Pops?
What made some men so selfish and unkind? What drove them to do mean things to the people they were supposed to love and protect?
With sudden clarity, Hazel realized she’d qualified that question withsome. Not all. Some. Because Hunter wasn’t one of those men. After several years of believing the worst of him, Hazel knew the truth without a doubt. Hunter wasn’t that man.
Bennett wasn’t either.
