Page 24 of Loud Unspoken Memories

“But you said your dad died when you were twelve. That doesn’t add up—” He stops talking and nods slowly. “Oh, got it. Still broken.”

Broken. Yeah, that’s me. I stare up at Dallas, wondering if it takes one to know one.

“Not all therapy is as easy as snuggling a good dog,” I mumble into Bex’s lavish coat. “You’re the bestest boy.” I turn to Dallas. “Will you keep him?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it. But I wasn’t going to leave him there.” He shrugs his backpack off. “I brought some bones and chew toys.”

“You should keep him. I’ll bet he’s great company. So I guess you really need to fix that tower now. You’ll want to tell the authorities about Abe.”

“They’d be in no hurry to recover the body of a deceased elderly man, Marti.”

“But, what if the snow stops and he… thaws.” I barely get the word out as it’s a horrifying notion.

His face pales a bit, mirroring my emotions. “I moved him inside. Animals won’t be able to get to him. I turned off his heater so it’ll stay cold and better preserve him until they can get up here and take his body.”

“Did he have anyone? I mean besides Bex?”

“I don’t really know. It’s not like we talked a lot.”

“Right. Because you mountain men all come up here to get away from that sort of thing.”

“You said your mom died when you were little,” he says, completely dodging my musing. “Does that mean you and your brother went into foster care after your dad passed?”

“Asher raised me.”

Dallas looks almost as curious about that as I am abouthispast. “Really?”

“He’s fifteen years older than I am. My parents were on the older side when I was born. I was anoopsie. My mom was diagnosed with cervical cancer when she was pregnant with me. She could have been treated, but she’d have lost the pregnancy. She chose me over her own life. I don’t remember anything about her, but Asher does. He tells me stories about her a lot and that makes me feel closer to her.”

He nods. I can tell he wants to ask more, but he doesn’t. He’s not one to pry. And somehow that makes me think he’s also not one tobepried. So I don’t even try.

Belatedly, he looks over my head, scrunches his brow, and asks, “Um, Marti, what are your panties and my boxer briefs doing hanging on fishing line?”

I laugh and get up to rotate them around, my heart frolicking slightly when I touch his boxers. “I hope you don’t mind I did a load. I wanted to make sure we had clean clothes before the power went out.”

His eyes graze over the Yale sweatshirt I forgot I was wearing. “Is that why you’re wearing my hoodie?”

Heat erupts from my chest to my face.

“Yeah. Sorry. Mine was in the wash. I got cold.”

I start to remove it, but he stops me. “Leave it on. It’s only going to get colder in here.”

“About that. Can we use Abe’s propane?”

“I had the same thought. But he was almost out as well. I assume we’re on the same delivery schedule.” He stands and goes for the door.

“You’re leaving again?”

“I’m going to chop some more wood.”

“I’ve seen the pile, Dallas. You have enough to last weeks, I’d say.”

“You can never have too much. Besides, I saw the tree branch that almost hit the truck. I need to use the chainsaw to cut it and move it out of the way for when the weather clears.”

“And exactly when do you think that might happen?”

“I don’t know. But it’s not looking too good.” He opens the door and pauses. “Good thinking about the laundry. See you later.”

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