Denise turned to them. “It’s a tight fit in the snowcat. Rudolph’s operator said he could come back for the two of you.”
Bridget shook her head, then resurrected a plastic expression, but he could see right through it.
“No, you don’t have to do that. I know the way back. I’ll stay behind and put out the fire,” she replied as she twisted the cuff of her coat.
“Are you sure?” Denise asked, eyeing them warily.
“Yes, I’ll stay with Birdie to help with the fire and secure the door. We made it here just fine, and there looks to be a break in the snow,” he added, glancing out the window. The brutal pellets that had battered the cabin had tapered off since they’d arrived.
And he wouldn’t let her stay behind on her own. But there was something else lurking beneath the surface of her placating expression. They walked to the porch with Denise, and the sharp scent of diesel from the snowcat idling hung in the air as two golden beams sandwiched a red flashing light, painting the darkness in a holiday glow.
“I’m riding in Rudolph,” Cole called, waving from the snowcat as Nancy helped the boy inside the cab.
Denise descended the porch steps but stilled before heading to the waiting vehicle. “Nancy’s right. Tonight, you two truly were Cole’s guardian angels.”
He waved her off. “We’re just glad he’s okay. We’ll see you back at the mountain house.”
The wind had died down, and he and Bridget stood side by side as the beams of light from the purring snowcat faded into the darkness. He glanced over his shoulder at the hearth. The three logs crackled as the fire burned through the wood.
“You know, we don’t have to stay. The fire will burn itself out in a half-hour or so,” he said, following her back into the cabin.
Bridget stared into the waning firelight. “I know.”
He stood a step behind her, wanting more than anything to touch her—to reach out and take her into his arms but stifled the impulse.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said instead.
“And what’s that?” she asked.
“That you’re to blame.”
She took the poker that rested against the side of the fireplace, then prodded the logs, separating them to allow the remaining flames to peter out.
“I am to blame. I had a feeling Cole was up to something. But I never thought he’d sneak out on his own. And we only knew he was gone because Carly came into the kitchen and found us…”
Found us.
Found them engrossed in the dance that had become like second nature when passions flared, and every impulse drove him to her like a ship lost at sea, finally catching a glimmer of light from a safe harbor.
“You’re not to blame, Bridget. Cole’s headstrong, and once he gets an idea, there’s no stopping him. Last Christmas, I gave him a one-thousand-piece puzzle. He wouldn’t stop working on it until he had it finished. It took the whole family, but we got it done. It was the longest five hours of my life, and Cole never left the table. He’s tenacious like that.”
Bridget poked the logs once more and smoldering embers replaced the expiring flames. A cocoon of misty darkness surrounded them as they stood there in silence for what seemed like ages before Bridget glanced over her shoulder at him.
“You’re not a horrible person, Soren.”
He chuckled, not expecting that. “That’s what you have to say after all we’ve been through tonight?”
Her eyes full of questions as the moonlight streaming in from the window framed her features in a blue glow. “I don’t understand you. I don’t know how someone can be so cold and cruel and then be so kind and tender.”
With the scent of the burnt cedar logs suspended in the air, a tiny crack formed in the impenetrable walls he’d constructed around his heart. Like a sinner on the cusp of confession, he closed his eyes.
“It’s how I survive.”
Survival. That’s what his life consisted of when he wasn’t with the Abbotts.
She took a step toward him. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head, trying to hold back the words. But he couldn’t. Not with her.
“My parents didn’t want me. Neither wanted to have a child. I was a mistake. An inconvenience.”
She blinked, giving nothing away.
And just like that—he’d revealed his cards to the one person who could ruin everything.
15
Soren
He’d heard the words. He’d said them, for Christ’s sake! But he didn’t expect that this admission would come with such succinct clarity.