Page 64 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“What do you mean I can’t go with you?” she asks, looking somewhere between pissed and sad. “Of course I have to go, Rowan. You can’t expect me to stay cooped up in here by myself, possibly with a bug, while Harry is out there lost or hurt or—”

She lets out a sob, and I hate that I made her cry. It twists something inside my chest, almost like there’s a key in a skeleton lock somewhere in there, down deep, holding back everything I want to keep contained, and the key is being jarred. Fuck.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her to my chest. Even though it’s me she’s pissed at, at least partially, she leans into me, her tears soaking my shirt. I run a soothing hand down her back, because that’s what my sisters do when they hug each other when they’re upset. “It’s okay,” I tell her, even though I’m not totally sure it’s true. “It’s okay. I’m not going to rest until I find him and make sure he’s all right, and we’re not going to leave you here in the dark, Princess. One of us will get a message to you tonight. I guarantee you that. I’m not going to make you try to fall asleep without knowing he’s okay. I wouldn’t do that to you, especially not after—”

In my head, I see Jay clutching his shoulder again. I see him collapsing to his knees. The stab of pain is unexpected andunwelcome, and it leaves my heart racing. I find myself clinging to Kennedy a bit tighter because her warmth and scent are surprisingly calming.

But Idowant to find Harry, so I pull away slightly and tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m going to find him, but I need to leave now. Okay?”

“I don’t want to be in here alone,” she says softly.

I don’t want that either, but what am I supposed to do in the short term? The answer comes to me in half a second, but I don’t like it. “Where are the guys?” I ask gruffly.

“You want me to go spend time with them?” she asks. There’s something terse about her voice. I’ve pissed her off, I realize, and for at least half a second, I’m glad for it.

“No, I don’t want you to spend time with them,” I say. “I want to take you with me. I want to pretend that my grandmother never dreamed up this show, and that you’re—”

Mine.

It’s a stupid thought. I mean, I’ve known this woman for all of a week. So I shake it off and say, “And that you’re free to do whatever you want. But we both know that’s not the case. You won’t be helping Harry if you’re seen looking for him outside the house. You’d both get in trouble.”

It doesn’t escape my attention that this would bring me closer to my end goal of getting the show canceled early—a goal I’ve done diddly squat to pursue over the past several days—but I don’t want it to happen like that. I don’t want anyone I care about to bear the burden.

“Okay,” she says sadly. “I don’t like it, but I guess you’re right.”

I kiss the top of her head, and because that’s definitely not enough, bend down to claim her mouth. “You won’t be alone in here for long, Kennedy. I promise this will be fine.”

She nods and hands me Harry’s phone. We figure he might try to call it at some point, knowing it’s a way to get in touch with Kennedy.

“Keep checking the room,” I say with a grimace before I step out. “Make sure you’ve looked everything over. We didn’t finish.”

The look she’s giving me suggests we left a lot of things unfinished, and she’s absolutely right.

But I leave anyway, my heart thumping, because I’m not sure I can take any more bad news today. I like Harry, and I don’t want to think something bad might have happened to him, but I’ve worked as a parttime fireman for long enough time to know that the thing with Jay wasn’t an aberration. Bad shit does happen, and it doesn’t care whether it’s convenient for someone’s schedule.

Still, I see my grandmother walking through the hallways like a wraith on my way out, and I stop her. There’s an idea I need to plant in her head. I want her to think it’s hers.

“It’s about time you showed up,” she sneers. “I have a list of things for you to do. There’s a strange smell in the men’s wing. It’s been very upsetting to Jonah. He has a delicate constitution.”

Yup, that’s my bad. I tucked a dead fish into the back of the toilet.

“Tomorrow,” I say. “There’s something I need to do right now. But, hey, I had a thought.”

“Color me surprised,” she says, putting a hand on her hip. “You’re not known for thinking.”

“And you’re not known for listening,” I say. “But this show needs seem livening up. Maybe an animal sidekick.”

“There were horses today,” she says defensively.

“I was thinking about a puppy.”

“Dogs are dirty,” she says loftily.

“Yes,” I say. “And most of the guys will hate it, but Kennedy will love it. I heard her telling someone she’s always wanted a puppy. Used to ask Santa for it.”

The way she tilts her head with interest tells me she’s not aware of everything that passed between Kennedy and me the other night, thank God.

“A bulldog puppy,” I continue.

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