Page 14 of Loud Unspoken Memories

Anita gets back on the line. “I don’t envy you having to tell him.”

“I guess I have a little more time to think about it. I’ll call you when I’m on the road again. Hopefully it won’t be too long. Stay strong, okay?”

“Okay.”

The next call I make is to my brother.

“Where in the ever-loving hell are you, Martina?”

“Well hello to you too.”

“I’ve been going fucking crazy. Did you fall off the face of the earth? Because if not, there is no reason you couldn’t at least respond to my goddamn texts—all twenty of them.”

I don’t tell him he’s being over-protective again. Asher is more than just my brother. After Dad died when I was twelve, he became my guardian. I swear most days he thinks he still is.

“Calm down. I’d have texted if I could. Cell service was out here.”

“Where is here? Because I know you’re not with Charlie.”

“No. But I will be soon.”

I explain everything that happened over the past day. It does nothing to tamp down his big-brother worries. “Who in the hell is this guy, and what do you know about him? Jesus, Martina, you spent the night with a stranger in the woods?”

“What would you have me do, Ash, freeze to death in my car?”

“What’s his name again?”

“Dallas. Dallas Montana.”

Asher is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “Holy shit. As in Dallas Montana of Montana Winery?”

I eye all the wine bottles on the wall. They make much more sense now. I laugh as I pull one from the rack and read the label. “I suppose that would be the one.”

“The guy’s a billionaire. Or at least his parents are.”

I gaze around the meager cabin. “Seriously?”

The front door opens and Dallas walks through, looking pensive and not at all happy.

“Listen, I have to go. I’ll keep you updated. There’s a tow truck on the way, and I’ll rent a car in the nearest town and be at Anita’s parents’ place by dinner.”

“Stay safe, little sister.”

I hang up and turn to Dallas. “So? When will it get here?”

He shakes his head. “There isn’t going to be a tow truck. Not today anyway.”

Chapter Seven

Dallas

“What do you mean it’s not coming? You said—”

I gesture out the window, where it’s already turning gray after a mostly clear morning. “You think I can control the weather?”

“I’m one little person. How hard can it be to get here?”

“That’s the problem. You’re one person. Snowplows and tow trucks are dispatched to places where the most people will be helped. Or to emergencies.”

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