Page 16 of Lumberjack Bride

I collapse down on the pillow and close my eyes.

“You’ve just got cold feet, honey,” she says. “I did before I got married, too.”

I chuckle. “Which time?”

“Every time.” She nudges my knee. “Get up and eat some chocolate. You’ll feel better.”

I lie still as she stands up and makes her way back into the hallway.

A hard pounding strikes the front door.

I shoot up on the bed, jerked into action by the start of my pulse. My grandmother stops and stares down the hallway at the door.

“Hazel!”

My jaw drops. “Leo?”

I slide off the bed and stand next to Nana as the pounding continues. She nudges my arm and gives me a gentle push in his direction.

“Hazel, please open the door,” Leo shouts.

I wince at the sudden pinch on my arm. “Ouch!” I rub it, staring daggers at my grandmother’s claw-like fingernails.

“Go to him,” she urges. “Don’t be such a wuss.”

I scoff and walk toward the door. The knocking ceases as I turn the lock and I plant my foot a few inches in front of the door to keep it from swinging freely.

I open it an inch and peek out at Leo’s concerned face. “Leo—”

“What are you doing here?” he asks quickly.

“I can’t marry you,” I say, my voice low.

“Why not?” He lays a hand on the door, pushing slightly, but I keep my foot in place. “Come on, Hazel. What did I do?”

“Nothing...”

“Then, what happened?” he asks. “What was in that box?”

I glance over my shoulder. My grandmother has kept her distance, still lingering back in the hallway.

I sigh and take a quick step out onto the porch. Leo’s face shows a bit of relief but I keep one hand clinging to the doorknob behind me as I close it.

“Leo, I’m sorry—”

“You’ve said that already,” he says. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

I look down at his black shoes and blue jeans. It’s what he always wears. The flannel changes. Today, it’s red. Tomorrow, who knows?

“She cheated,” I say.

He blinks. “Who?”

“My mother. She had an affair when I was five.”

He shifts an inch closer but stops as I lean away. “How do you know that?” he asks.

“Her diary,” I answer. “Found another one in that box. Guess she was hiding it in a different place. Pretty easy to see why...”

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