Page 5 of Out of the Cold

“They’re your family. Being all alone up there isn’t good for you. You need to be around people who love you.”

“I know it seems that way to you, but that doesn’t always help.”

Natalie drew in a sharp breath, and he inwardly cursed himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I need some space. Living here is doing me good. The mountains help me.”

“I remember the first time you came back from that camp. You went on and on about the trees and sky and who knows what else. I was so mad you got to go to camp, and then you came back acting like it had changed your life.”

“It did.”

“I know. Too bad they didn’t have camps for kids who wanted to study interior design.”

He’d gone to that camp from the age of eleven to sixteen, and spent another couple of summers during college as a full-fledged counselor, teaching kids from urban areas all the things to love in the mountains. He smiled just thinking about it.

“You did okay, anyway.”

“It’s you I’m worried about. I hate thinking of you all alone. It feels like we lost you, too.”

He sank into the rocking chair next to the woodstove. “It’s okay, Nat.” It came out gruff and impatient, even though he was trying to reassure her. “This is where I need to be. Besides, I’m not exactly alone anymore. Someone’s staying at the house.”

“Really? Who?”

He shouldn’t have said anything. Now she’d be asking about it whenever they talked. “Her name is Lucy. I’m not exactly sure what she’s doing here. She’s in way over her head.”

“She has you to help her. She’ll be fine.”

He didn’t bother telling her he wasn’t the guy people came to anymore. That was a thing of the past. Natalie still thought of him that way because she hadn’t seen him enough to know otherwise—or maybe she didn’t want to know.

“Will she be there for Thanksgiving?”

“I have no idea. She only got here today.”

“Hmm. Is she pretty?”

With her faraway eyes, delicate features, and long dark-blonde hair, she was more than pretty—she was beautiful. When she’d come around the house and smiled that warm, sweet smile, for a few glorious seconds, he’d forgotten why her presence was his worst nightmare.

But he wasn’t telling Natalie any of that. “Not my type.”

If she saw through his dodge, she was letting it pass. “I’m pulling up to my next client, so I’d better go. Please, at least think about Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it. I’ll give Mom a call soon.”

“Take care of yourself, okay?” she said, worry once again creeping in.

He answered with all the enthusiasm he could muster. “You bet.”

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