Alpine Embrace

Chapter 13

The silence in the truck was heavier than the snow outside.

We were winding down the switchbacks, the massive tires crunching over patches of black ice. Jaxon drove with focused intensity, his eyes scanning the road, his hands gripping the wheel at ten and two.

I stared out the window. The pristine, magical white of the high peaks was giving way to the slush and gray mud of the lower altitudes. The further we went, the more "real" the world looked. Power lines. Other cars. Billboards advertising watches and chocolate.

It made my stomach hurt.

In the back seat, Mia was ominously quiet. She was buckled into her booster seat, clutching her penguin and the crumpled charcoal drawing of the "Grumpy Bear."

"My ears feel funny," she announced suddenly, breaking the silence.

"We're losing altitude, peanut," Jaxon said, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. "Swallow hard. Like you're drinking a big milkshake."

Mia made a dramatic gulping sound. "Did it work?"

"I think so."

"Kelsea?" Mia asked.

I turned in my seat to look back at her. "Yeah, sweetie?"

"Are your ears popping too?"

"Yeah," I said, offering a weak smile. "They are."

"Is that why you're sad?"

The question hung in the air, sharp and unavoidable.

"I'm not sad," I lied. "I'm just... tired. It was a long few days."

"You look sad," Mia insisted. She held up the drawing. "You look like the bear."

Jaxon’s jaw tightened. I saw a muscle feather in his cheek.

"Mia," he warned low. "Leave Kelsea alone. She has to think about her trip."

"Where is she going?" Mia asked. "To the castle?"

"To the train station," Jaxon corrected. "She's going back to the city."

"Why?"

"Because she doesn't live here, Mia. She has a home. She has a job."

"I don't, actually," I blurted out.

Jaxon’s head snapped toward me. The truck swerved slightly before he corrected it.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't have a job," I admitted, looking at my hands. "I got fired the day before I came here. And I don't have an apartment. Brad, my ex, kept the lease and replaced me with my best friend. So, technically, I'm going to a hostel. Or a friend's couch."

Jaxon stared at the road, his expression darkening. "You didn't tell me that."

"It didn't come up. We were busy trying not to freeze to death."

"So you're homeless," he said flatly. "And I'm driving you to a train station to go... where? Anywhere?"

"I'll figure it out," I said, my defensive hackles rising. "I always figure it out. That's what I do."

"That's stupid," Mia declared from the back seat.

"Mia," Jaxon warned again.

"It is!" she argued. "We have a huge house. And the guest room is broken, but my room has a bunk bed. The top bunk is empty. Only Mr. Fluffernutter sleeps there."

"Mia, drop it," Jaxon said, his voice sharper this time.

"But Daddy!" Mia’s voice rose to a wail. "She made the stars! You liked the stars! I saw you looking at them!"

Jaxon gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked.

"Mia, enough!" he barked.

Mia fell silent, shrinking back into her seat. Tears welled up in her big brown eyes.

I felt a flash of anger. Not at Mia, but at him. At the stubborn, emotionally constipated mule of a man.

"Don't yell at her," I snapped. "She's just stating facts. Which is more than you're doing."

"I am driving," he growled. "I am getting you to safety."

"You're running away!" I accused. "You're scared because for five minutes yesterday, you actually felt something other than misery, and it terrified you. So now you're dumping me at the nearest station so you can go back to your dark, cold house and be the Grumpy Bear in peace."

"I am not running away!"

"Yes, you are! You're driving away! Literally!"

"I am doing what is best for you!" he shouted. "I am a mess, Kelsea! My life is a construction zone! I have a traumatized kid and a dead wife and a roof that caved in! What kind of life is that to offer someone?"

"I don't need you to offer me a life!" I yelled back. "I just wanted to see where it went! I wanted to see if the spark was real!"

"It was real!" he roared.

He slammed on the brakes.

The truck skidded on the slush, fishtailing slightly before shuddering to a halt on the shoulder of the road. We were parked next to a snowbank, half a mile from the highway on-ramp.

The silence rushed back in, deafening this time.

Jaxon was breathing hard, his chest heaving against his seatbelt. He stared out the windshield, his hands shaking on the wheel.

"It was real," he repeated, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. "That's the problem."

I looked at him. I saw the fear in his eyes. The terror of losing someone again. The terror of starting over.

"Jaxon," I said softly.

He unbuckled his seatbelt. He turned in his seat to face me.

"I can't do it," he said. "I can't drive you to that station. I can't watch you walk away and know that you're going to sleep on a couch somewhere while I'm in that big, empty house."

"Then don't," I whispered.

"I'm damaged goods, Kelsea. You saw the breakdown. You saw the anger."

"I saw the man who kept me warm," I said. "I saw the man who dug a trench in a blizzard. I saw the dad who loves his daughter more than air."

I reached out and covered his hand on the gear shift.

"I'm not looking for perfect, Jaxon. I'm looking for real. And you are the most real thing I've found in a long time."

He looked at my hand, then up at my eyes. The war in his gaze was ending. The walls were coming down.

"I need help," he admitted. It sounded like a confession. "With the house. With... everything."

"I'm handy," I smiled. "I can tape paper to things. I can paint."

"I don't want a painter," he said. He leaned closer, his eyes intense. "I want you."

My heart did a triple backflip.

"Okay," I breathed.

"Okay?"

"Okay. Take me back. I'll take the top bunk. I'll fight Mr. Fluffernutter for it."

A slow, devastating grin spread across his face. It reached his eyes, crinkling the corners.

"You won't have to fight the cat," he murmured. "I think we can find a better arrangement."

"Are we kissing now?" Mia asked from the back seat, her voice sounding bored but secretly delighted.

Jaxon laughed. He actually laughed, a full, deep sound that filled the cab.

"Yeah, peanut," he said, looking at me. "We're kissing now."

He leaned across the center console. He cupped my face with one hand, his thumb brushing my lip.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against my mouth. "For being an idiot."

"You're a hockey player," I teased. "I expect a certain amount of head trauma."

He kissed me. It wasn't desperate like the night before. It was promising. It was sweet. It tasted like second chances and winter sun.

When he pulled back, he looked lighter. Younger.

"Hold on," he said to the car at large.

He checked the mirrors. He shifted the truck into drive.

He cranked the wheel hard to the left.

The massive truck spun in a tight U-turn on the empty road, kicking up slush and gravel.

We headed back up the mountain. Back toward the snow. Back toward the broken chalet.

"Daddy?" Mia asked.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can we get pizza on the way back? Since we're not going to the train?"

Jaxon looked at me, his eyebrow raised.

"Pizza sounds good," I said. "With extra cheese."

"And lights," Jaxon added. "We need to stop at the hardware store. We need real lights. The blinking kind."

I smiled, settling back into the seat. I watched the scenery change from gray back to white, but this time, it didn't look cold. It looked like a blank canvas.

And for the first time in a week, I knew exactly what I was going to draw.