Was she embarrassed to want love? He wondered why. She had lost people she loved too. If she still wanted it, it was brave. “Do you have it in your life . . . love?”
She breathed out a laugh. “You’re very straightforward when you want to be.”
“Am I asking the wrong questions?” He felt ashamed. He didn’t know how to do this, talk about the things inside him with other people. Sometimes he didn’t even know how to talk to himself.
“No.” She shook her head. “No. Your questions aren’t wrong. Yes, I have love in my life. I love my friends, and I love the kids at the group home I work at.” She smiled again but something sad came into her eyes too.
“Do you love a man?” Please say no.
“No,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his. “No.”
She stood suddenly and leaned close to the window. “Oh my gosh,” she said, bringing his attention to the weather outside. Snow was falling quickly—the big fluffy flakes that meant it would snow for a long time—and ice crystals stuck to the glass. Jak had seen this before, many times. He knew what it was. “That looks bad.”
He stood, heading to the front door and opening it. A blow of icy wind hit his face and he stepped back. “It’s an ice storm.” He’d known it as soon as he saw those fluffy flakes mixed with icy shine.
Harper came up next to him, holding her arm against the whipping wind and closing the door. “God, that came up quickly. I should go before it gets really bad.”
Jak turned to her. “It’s already really bad.”
She met his eyes. “I lost track of time.” She looked toward the window, shaking her head, her expression nervous. She took her phone from her pocket, glancing at it. “No service here, but I’ve gotten service in this wilderness before. Sometimes it’s a matter of being in the right spot.”
He didn’t know what she was talking about—he knew what a phone was, but not how one worked. The thing in her hand was a mystery to him, but he didn’t question it. The very last thing he wanted was for her to see him as a child.
“I need to go out to my truck,” she said, grabbing her jacket.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said again, not willing to let her walk out into the howling wind alone. He put on his coat and boots quickly and pulled the door open, squinting against the ice that burned his face. It was too easy to get lost in ice storms. One missed step or wrong turn, and suddenly you didn’t know where you were and could barely see a tree right in front of you before you walked into it. He used his body to shield her as they walked in the direction where her truck was parked, not able to see it until it was right in front of them.
He’d been lost in an ice storm like this once. He’d hunkered down with Pup and barely— But he pushed his thoughts away. He didn’t want to think about that right now.
Harper stepped around him, her head bent, the wind picking up in speed and sound, whipping her hood off her head, her hair going in every direction. She laughed, but it was high like a scared bird.
She climbed into her truck and he went in after her, slamming the door and escaping from the wind. It pounded at the truck, sneaking between the cracks, trying its best to reach them. Their mixed breath came out in sharp pants. The sound of the wind got less, though the truck shook, the house invisible through the front glass.
“Good lord,” she said, pushing her hair back, crystals of ice shining like jewels in the low light coming from the phone she’d brought from her pocket again.
She made a sound of unhappiness and then held her phone up in the air, moving it from side to side. “There. Damn . . . ah. Crap.” She did that for another minute, finally dropping it to her lap. “It won’t hold a signal.” She turned to him. “I don’t think I should drive in this. I’d probably run into a tree trying to get to the road, and even if I didn’t, that road has a drop-off on both sides. I could, uh, just wait out here. I’m sure