Stars Over Alaska (Wild River #4) - Jennifer Snow Page 0,56

was as though the cabin burning had taken with it the memories she’d tried to repress, ignore, forget. Now they were rushing back, reminding her that she hadn’t held on to them, cherished them...just like the cabin itself and now they were slipping away for real—unappreciated.

“I’m sorry.” Levi’s voice beside her made her jump. He’d been so quiet, she’d almost forgotten she wasn’t alone. How long had she just been standing there? Obviously she looked wrecked, because the sympathy on his face said he was worried about her.

That was the last thing she needed or wanted. She cleared her throat quietly. “It’s nothing. We barely used the place anymore and most of it was old junk anyway. Stuff Mom didn’t want in the house anymore. Nothing of value.”

“Maybe not monetary value, but this place definitely meant something to you and your family. To me too.”

There were too many emotions, too much meaning in his words and in his tone. She shifted uncomfortably under the intensity in his gaze as she shrugged. “Sometimes it’s better to have no other choice than to let go of something. Mom should have sold this land back to the city years ago. It’s in the middle of nowhere and too hard to even get to, especially in winter.” She heard herself making excuses, giving reasons to not feel so bad and just hoped they sounded like she actually believed them.

Levi studied her, his expression telling her he wasn’t buying her act. But he remained silent instead of calling her out, which somehow annoyed her even more. As though he didn’t want to hurt her or start a fight. As though she might be fragile.

She placed her hands on her hips. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“You obviously have something to say, so go ahead.”

He blew out a long deep breath, the cold creating a white fog around his head as he said, “You really don’t care?”

“Why would I care, Levi? I haven’t been here in forever.” And the last time she had, the place had started to lose its charm. The summer of her lost innocence with the miscarriage had almost been like lifting a veil off her childhood and she no longer saw the cabin as a safe, fun place. It was here that she’d missed her period and had started to suspect. It was here that she’d cried herself to sleep with worry that long summer weekend. It was where she’d had a blowout fight with her mother when she’d accused her of moping around and ruining the weekend for everyone else. She just needed to keep remembering those times at the cabin and the pain of the loss would ease a little. “This was just a part of my past.”

“A big part,” he said, pushing on. “I remember. You used to love this place...more than anyone else in your family. You couldn’t wait for school to let out to get here. Swimming and fishing in the lake with your dad in summer, ice fishing in winter, hiking and taking all of those amazing photographs...”

“Stop!” Damn it, too loud, too forceful, but he’d struck a nerve. Exactly the way he’d been trying to. Memories of her dad were sacred to her and she didn’t appreciate him using them to get to her.

He clamped his lips together, obviously realizing he’d gone too far.

“Don’t try to make me feel like a bad person just because I’ve moved on, learned to let go of things,” she said. What choice did she have? Things were ripped away; things were lost whether people wanted to let go of them or not. Life had taught her that cruel lesson time and time again.

This cabin was the most recent symbol of how nothing in life lasted forever.

Levi shook his head and lowered his gaze to the ground. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”

Intention or not, he’d gotten to her. He was right; this place had meant something in good times and in bad and it was devastating to know there would be no going back. No opportunity to recreate old memories or make new ones.

Levi stepped toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. His eyes beneath snow-covered eyelashes burned deep into hers and he gently touched her cool cheek. The warm, gentle caress was intimate and full of affection. “I’m sorry,” he said again and the apology seemed to linger heavy in the air, full of unspoken intention.

Her heart picked up its pace and her sadness was overshadowed by