Page 19 of His One True Wish

“Oh, you mean old guy music?”

“Ouch. So mean.” Honestly, the dig stung a bit, not that I cared. She was younger than me after all.

“I saw a woman yell at your obnoxious yellow Jeep. She threw dirt and rocks at your car. Yikes.” She mock-cringed.

“She did do that.” I nodded, remembering the way the goddamn pebbles rattled hitting the hood. I didn’t back up nearly fast enough.

“So, you are just a guy who lives in Smoke River and incites beautiful women — ”

“Oh, you thought she was beautiful?” I interrupted.

“Yeah.” She looked confused by my question.

“I’m just always super interested in what women think is beautiful. You know, I see a woman. I know she’s beautiful, but what do women think? That is the mystery.”

“Well, she’s beautiful,” Billie said. “I mean, she had this gorgeous red hair, and her face looked nice and proportional.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, my God. Why am I answering your questions like they’re normal?” She balled her hands into fists and backed away from me. “Where are my keys? I should just unpack the truck and get out of here.” She patted her pockets and turned in a circle. “I just had them.”

Victory. I wanted her to leave, right? But then I glanced out the window at the falling snow, which showed no signs of stopping. I knew that we could unpack her truck, but the idea that anyone in Smoke River would be on the road tonight was a pipe dream.

I assessed the margin of error. It was very high. There was no room for mistakes on a night like tonight. It was dangerous out there. She couldn’t leave. Fuck me.

“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot,” I said, rubbing my temple.

“You think?” she said, eyes darting around the room.

“I’m sure your keys are here. I’ll help you find them.”

“If I lost them, that is a big problem. It’s my gran’s special key chain, too. It’s a shooting star.” She sounded panicked, and for a moment, I worried she would cry. I did not want to see her cry.

“They aren’t lost.”

“Okay.” Her voice was soft. She stopped and clasped her arms, biting her lip. “I’m sure they are here.”

“Yes,” I said, keeping my voice low and calm. I scanned the room, seeing a glint of gold next to the oven. “They are right there, by the stove.”

She exhaled and darted to the kitchen, shoving the keys into her pocket. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m just a little rattled.”

“I know,” I said. I was rattled, too, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “Your grandmother hired me to take care of this place. I can tell you love it here. Honestly, I do, too.”

She nodded and looked at me. I felt something pass between us, but couldn’t name it. It may have been the first wholly truthful thing we’d said to each other.

“So,” I said.

“So,” she repeated, her voice no longer shaking. If she’d been about to cry, the danger passed.

“So, should we unpack your truck then?”

She glanced out the window. “Yeah. It is snowing really hard.”

“We can get the truck emptied and figure the rest out tomorrow. Nobody is going anywhere in this snowstorm tonight.”

“I’m going out in that snowstorm,” she said.

“Not tonight,” I said. “I mean — ”

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