Page 109 of Relentless

It was a welcomed comfort.

She took the stairs, finding the living room quiet except for the crackling, popping wood in the warm fireplace. Finding her boots in the entryway, she slipped them over her feet and stooped down to tie them up. When she stood, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the large mirror.

Harper looked ragged.

Retrieving a pair of aviator sunglasses off the hook, she pulled them over her puffy, red eyes.

It would have to do.

She took another long drink from her mug as she steeled her nerves for whatever inevitable conversation was awaiting her outside.

Feelings, no doubt.

Harper rolled her eyes.

Opening the front door, she was met with a blast of frigid mountain air that stole her breath away. Forcing each step ontothe porch, she was surprised to feel the welcomed warmth of the sun kiss her skin.

“Careful there, Harp,” Maeve called out, clanging the shovel into the snow. “It’s icy today.”

“And why don’t you mind your own —” Harper caught herself, clearing her throat as she remembered her sister’s steadfast presence in her moment of despair. “Thank you for the reminder.”

Maeve was wearing a flannel shirt, with her jeans tucked into her snow boots. Her wild brown hair was kept tame by her gray beanie cap, and her aviator sunglasses gave her a look of authority.

“I recognize those glasses,” Maeve quipped, propping her gloved hands on the handle of the shovel.

“I found them on the hook,” Harper confessed as though she had been caught.

“Keep them,” Maeve shrugged. “I keep an extra pair these days after —” she cut her words short. “Well, after I lost my last ones.”

It hadn’t gone unnoticed that her sister had high walls of her own.

“Aren’t you cold?” Harper asked, observing Maeve’s lack of layers.

“I’m working up a sweat today,” she groaned, lifting another large shovel of snow and slinging it off the driveway.

“Really, Maeve,” Harper shook her head in disapproval. “Where is your hired help?”

“Colton and Wade are helping Crew prepare for the competition,” Maeve informed. “And — sometimes I just enjoy doing this kind of work.”

Harper cautiously made her way across the long, icy driveway. “You’re doing all this yourself?”

Maeve nodded, digging the shovel again into the hardening snow and flipping it over her shoulder into the pile.

“All right, you don’t have to beg,” Harper conceded. “I’ll help you.”

Maeve tilted her head to the side.

“Thank’s Harp — I think?”

The old nickname still didn’t feel good, but she wasn’t going to correct her anymore. Going to the barn, Harper set down her coffee in the snow and grabbed a shovel off the wall. Returning to Maeve’s side, she plunged the shovel into the snow, feeling every muscle flex.

The job was even more difficult than it looked.

“It’s a good thing I offered to help,” she heaved, already gasping for breath. “You could've never done this on your own.”

“You’re probably right,” Maeve smirked. “All these years of shoveling snow, I didn’t know what I was missing.”

The sarcasm in her tone didn’t get past Harper.

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