Forever Wild (The Simple Wild #2.5) - K.A. Tucker Page 0,25

onto the pile of magazines. “Simon, would you talk some sense into our daughter? You’re the only one she seems to listen to.”

She pulled out the “our daughter” card.

Simon’s brow furrows, and I know he’s choosing his words wisely before he dares utter them, because there is no rationalizing with my mother when she’s this emotional.

Muriel tracks back to join me in the hall, watching the flurry of anger unfold. “Bit of a can of worms I might have opened there, huh?”

“You think?” I grab my mittens and keys, and head out the door.

Chapter Seven

This time when I roll up to Roy’s cabin, he emerges from the barn, shutting the door tightly behind him.

I take my time, pausing to scratch Oscar behind the ear and give Gus a pat. Really, I just need another moment to gather the courage I wasn’t able to find on the ride here, too busy battling this rising dread that I’ve finally pushed Roy too far.

“What do you want?” he calls out in his typical gruff style, his arms folded across his chest. He’s in his usual outfit—a faded, forest-green, quilted plaid jacket and worn jeans, dusted in wood shavings. I’m not sure they’ve ever been washed. There’s no washer or dryer anywhere on this property, and of the hand-washed things I’ve seen on the drying rack or clothesline, they’ve never been included.

There’s no point in attempting small talk, not that Roy’s ever been for it. “Jonah’s mom used all my eggs and didn’t tell me, and Simon’s in the middle of making breakfast. I was hoping I could grab a half dozen from you.” I brace myself for him to bark that he’s not a damn grocery store, to get the hell off his property, and out of his life once and for all.

“There’s a full carton inside.” He waves a hand toward his cabin, a signal that I should go and get them myself.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll just …” I begin moving for the front door before he can change his mind.

“Did that garden basket fetch any money for the auction?” he hollers after me, stalling my feet.

“Yeah.” I hesitate. “Some might say too much. You know, because of that faulty handle.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “How are things going over at your place, with the big meet and greet and all that?”

He’s actually making an effort to have a conversation. That’s a good sign. “Well …” I find myself wandering back closer. “My mom thinks Jonah and I are having a shotgun wedding next week and serving everyone roadkill at the reception, so she’s having a coronary, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Björn and Jonah are arm wrestling when I get back.” Agnes and Mabel arrive today, and it’s a blessing they’re staying in the cabin across the lake. At least they have somewhere to escape.

Which reminds me—I need to get out there to prepare it. George and Bobbie said they’d be dropping them off around one, on their way to their cabin up near Fairbanks.

Roy’s brow pinches with curious amusement. “And why does your mother think you two are getting married next week?”

“Because Muriel told everyone that we are.” I explain Astrid’s health condition and Toby’s suggestion, in as few words as possible because Roy gets impatient with too many details.

By the time I’m done, he’s shaking his head. “The day that woman stops meddling in people’s lives is the day she stops breathing.”

“She meant well,” I defend half-heartedly. “And Astrid probably shouldn’t be flying back and forth from Oslo like this. It is risky. I’d feel terrible if something happened to her.” A reality that’s weighing more on me as time passes. “It’s just not what I was picturing for myself. It’s definitely not what my mother pictured.”

Roy leans back against the barn’s frame and folds his arms across his chest. “So, you gonna go through with it next week, then?”

“I don’t know?” Without much thought, I add, “Should I?”

Roy’s bushy eyebrows pop with a flash of surprise. “You askin’ me? For wedding advice?”

“I don’t know. Sure.” I chuckle. “Why not?” Roy was the first one to find out about our engagement, before my mom and Simon, even before Diana. He was the first to offer congratulations.

And, of all the people who waited with me for news of Jonah’s whereabouts on that dreaded night, it was Roy who I found myself leaning on for support.

“You must be lost, then.” His thoughts seem to wander as his gaze drifts over