Page 18 of Snowy Secrets

"I know, sir," I say, a lump forming in my throat. "But I'm hoping I can find a way to make peace with it."

I salute, turn, and walk out of the office. As I step back into the harsh sunlight, the weight of my decision hits me. I'm leaving the military, the only life I've known for what feels like an infinite age. I'm leaving the brotherhood, the camaraderie, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. But I'm also leaving behind the pain, the loss, the constant fear of death.

I'm going home. Maybe, just maybe, Bella will have forgiven me by now. If there is any hope left in this mad world, it is with her.

The Present Day

Never, not once in this lifetime of mine, did I think this day would come. I hoped, of course, because that's all a scoundrel like me can do, but to see her standing in front of me, not a ghost, not a dream, but in skin and flesh? God forgive me, but I have never stopped loving her, even though she looks like she'd love to smack me across the face. I wouldn't blame her if she did.

"River," she says, voice and eyes cold.

My legs are uncharacteristically wobbly as I clear my throat. "Hey."

Her brows shoot up to astronomical heights. "Hey?" She smiles, but I can see it's not touched by her usual warmth—although, what do I know? I haven't seen her since we didn't say goodbye all those years ago.

After returning to Whispering Pines, I opened a detective agency, which is doing decently, considering people in this town are very orderly and crimes are relegated to the level of spying on neighbors, parcels getting misplaced, and someone's cat gettingstuck in someone else's home. I approached her father, but he told me his daughter had left for the city. It broke my heart, but I'd broken hers first, so I guess I deserved all the loneliness that life had cast my way.

"Um—"

She shakes her head violently and turns the full force of her frigid stare on Marcus, who backs away with a, "Whoa, there."

"I'm leaving," she says coldly. "I haven't unpacked my bags, so if you can just help me take them back to my car, I'll be out of your hair."

"Hmm," replies Marcus, his tone completely conversational, like he's not being stared down by a very angry young woman. "I'd love to help you, but I'm afraid you're not leaving."

Bella's eyes widen and her brows continue shooting up until I'm surprised I can still see them. "What did you just say?"

"I must follow up with an apology," Marcus says swiftly, "although the weather isn't really my fault. But did you not follow the news on the way here? We're experiencing this decade's worst snowstorm."

"That's a load of crap," says Bella, her voice rising to a high pitch. "You're saying that because you want me to be stuck here."

Marcus continues looking at her like she is a very interesting test subject. "Bella, while you are incredibly beautiful and I do enjoy the pleasure of charming women, I assure you, I'm not trying to keep you here."

Bella stomps her feet on the floor and shakes her head. She then proceeds to flap her arms about her and hurl out a string of sophisticated curse words. Then, she takes a deep breath. I'm impressed. "All right," she says between gritted teeth. The vein standing out on her forehead tells me it's taking a huge effort for her to appear this calm. "Let's say wearehaving a snowstorm. This place always has those, so why should it stop me?"

"Um…normally, it wouldn't," says Marcus, nodding sagely. With that, he gestures to the window, wordlessly inviting Bella to look out.

Bella's old Honda is already mostly covered wet, dense snow. The snow is coming down with a vengeance now. It’s hard to even see through the flurries.

I walk over to the window beside the one where Bella is standing.

The snowstorm rages with—there's no other word for it—an otherworldly ferocity. I look up at the invisible sky as she unleashes her wrath in a relentless barrage of white fury. The snow whirls and twists, driven by howling winds that shriek through the pines. The wooden frame of the cabin groans.

Decades-old trees, tall and stoic, bend and sway, their strength slight against the storm's might. The branches of a thin oak, heavy with accumulating snow, snap and fall.

My breath fogs up the glass as I turn my head sideways to get a glimpse of Bella. Her eyes, wide with horror, reflect the fury of the storm outside. Her viridian eyes reflect the lightning outside, and her whole body releases a quiet shiver. Snowflakes slam against the window, each one a tiny explosion of ice and cold. For a long moment, the wind is the only one of us with a voice.

Then, a fresh gust of wind blasts the house, and we all jump back from the windows. For a split second, every detail is crystal clear—the snow-laden trees, the swirling vortex of flakes, and the resignation in Bella's face.

"I need to make a call." She pulls out her cell phone and shrugs. "I don't have any service."

"Wait." Marcus vanishes for a minute and returns with a satellite phone. "I'm presuming you need to call home."

Bella takes it and makes a call. I don't get to hear what her father is saying, but I see her relief as she speaks to him.

Once she's finished, she hands the phone back to Marcus and nods bleakly at him. "I'm sorry for being so uncivil. Apparently, the world has decided I am to stay here and suffer."

"The world has played a part, yes." Marcus smiles enigmatically. "But why must you suffer? This cabin is stocked with all the essentials. We have a full fridge, access to clean drinking water, a room for your office needs, although…" He stops talking and coughs.

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