Page 46 of Mountain Hero

“That makes sense,” I agree. “My uncle was kind of the same way. Not with games, but doing things around the house. He’d show me how to do something—mowing the lawn, cleaning the gutters, tightening up a loose valve—but then he’d leave me to it. He never hung over my shoulder, correcting me. If I messed it up, he’d show me how to fix it, but he wanted me to feel confident doing it myself.”

Winter strokes my jaw, her fingers soft and warm on my skin. “From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like he was an incredible person.” Her tone dips sympathetically. “You must miss him a lot.”

The loss hits me all over again, pain spearing through me, but with Winter here, it’s not as sharp or intense. It’s like that with all the hard things—missing my team, my uncle, Jeff… Having Winter beside me makes it more bearable. She softens all the jagged edges.

“Yeah, I miss him.” As the sun emerges from behind a cloud, hitting us with a blast of light, I reach over and adjust the patio umbrella so it shades us again. I’m intending to leave it at that, not wanting to drag down the mood, but the understanding in Winter’s eyes urges me on.

After a few moments of silence, I say, “I knew he wouldn’t be around forever. He was fifteen years older than my mom, so he was already retired when we moved here. But he was always so active—working on the house, hiking, hunting with his buddies… It just seemed like he was younger. Like he had more time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I guess… the hardest part is the guilt,” I admit. “Not being here until the end. I could have taken more leave, been here more often. Helped with things. But I was so busy with missions and training, I only made it back here a couple of times a year.”

“But I’m sure he understood,” Winter says softly. “He knew how hard you were working. How important what you were doing was.”

“He did.” I still remember Uncle Caleb telling me from his hospital bed how proud he was of me. “I couldn’t have asked for a better son. And I’m damn proud of you, Enz. Damn proud.”

Shit. A year later, and the memories are as vivid as ever. Emotion thickens my throat as I say, “I just wish I’d known he was sick. When I saw him at Christmas, he looked a little tired, but that’s all. Six months later, he was gone.”

“Oh, Enzo.” Winter surprises me by moving onto my lap. She loops her arms around my neck and kisses me softly. Then she pulls away, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry. But he must have had his reasons for not telling you. Maybe he didn’t want you to see him getting sicker. Maybe… he was too proud. Maybe he wanted you to always see him as strong.”

“Maybe.” As a tear slips down her cheek, guilt crashes into me.

What am I doing? This is supposed to be a fun and relaxing day, and here I am talking about my uncle, undoubtedly bringing up memories of Winter’s own losses, which were so much more painful than mine.

Thumbing the tear away, I say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring this up and?—”

“It’s okay.” She gives me a small, reassuring smile. “I want to know about you, Enzo. Not just the good stuff, but the bad, too. I want to be the person you feel like you can talk to. To not have to always be the strong Special Forces guy, but a person with feelings and emotions and vulnerabilities.”

It’s not something I’m used to, but when she puts it that way, it doesn’t sound too bad.

So I find myself saying, “I never knew my dad. He took off before I was born. It was just me and my mom until I was ten. We lived out in Buffalo, in this little apartment she could barely afford. But she tried. I never went without anything.”

The memories flood back. The apartment she worked so hard to make cheery. The baseball games and summer camps and all the other little things my mom scrimped and saved to make happen. And the night it all fell apart.

“But we didn’t live in the best area, and one night, our apartment was broken into. It was two guys, high as kites, searching for money. I was at camp when it happened, but my mom was home. They beat her up and trashed the place. My uncle had to come pick me up because she was in the hospital.”

“Enzo…”

“She was okay. Bruised, some fractured ribs, a broken nose, but it could have been a lot worse. After that… she didn’t feel safe staying at the apartment. She was worried about something happening to me. So we moved here to live with my uncle. And… It was hard at first. I felt guilty for not being there to protect my mom.”

“Oh, Enzo.” Winter hugs me again and kisses my cheek. “You couldn’t have done anything. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I do. Now. It took me a long time to come to terms with it.”

She stares at me, emotion turning her eyes a deep evergreen. “I understand.” A long pause, and then quietly, “I was at a sleepover when my parents died. It was carbon monoxide poisoning. Just this fluke thing from a faulty part in the furnace. If I’d been home that night…”

As she trails off, I go cold all over.

So close. If Winter had been home that night, she wouldn’t be here right now. Her life could have ended before she had a chance to become the incredible woman I’m holding in my arms.

“God, Winter.” It’s hard to breathe past the tightness in my chest.

“I felt guilty, too. Why was I still alive when my parents were gone? For months, I kept wondering, what if I’d been home? What if I could have figured it out? Warned them? Would they still be alive?”

She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “It took a long time to accept it. Everything in my life was different. I had to move in with my aunt, I left all my friends, everything was new and scary. But over time…” A small smile curves her lips. “I realized I needed to make the most of my life. Make my parents proud.”

Emotion swells up so quickly I can’t speak for a second. Finally, I manage, “I’m sure they are.”

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