Forever Wild (Wild 2.50)

“Okay. Let’s get you inside.” Agnes furiously rubs her daughter’s shoulders. “We need to get you checked out by a doctor.”

“I think they’re gonna be fine. They found an old, abandoned shack and got a decent fire goin’. Stayed huddled. They’re smart girls.”

“And you’re a good man, Roy Donovan!” Muriel hollers over the hum of her engine. “Enjoy the rest of your night!” She takes off, followed closely by Kelly, Toby, and Teddy.

Only Jonah, Roy, and I remain outside in the dark, huddled in our coats and hats, with nothing but the one spotlight fueled by the generator to cast light.

“I’m gonna check on Mabel.” Jonah presses a kiss against my cheek and adds reluctantly, “And eat my words for Björn.”

I smile. As bullheaded as Jonah can be, when he’s wrong, he’ll admit it. “Save the really good groveling until I get there. I like watching that.”

He snorts. “Good night, Roy. And thanks again.” He doesn’t wait for Roy’s answer before he heads up the path because he knows he won’t get one.

I curl my arms around my chest. “Some Christmas Day, huh?” And I thought last year’s was memorable.

“You should get on inside. It’s gonna take you ’til Friday to warm up.”

Speaking of warming up … “You look good in navy blue.” I nod toward his new hat. It’s lined with rabbit fur, which I cringed at choosing, but then I wagered that Roy is Roy and isn’t likely to wear faux fur. “Maybe Bandit will stop hiding when you come by to see Zeke.”

He adjusts his coat sleeve. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had somethin’ new to wear.”

“And now you have something to wear to our wedding.”

He snorts.

“I’m serious, Roy. Please come.” I thought more about what my answer should have been that night out on the road. “We may not be that important to you, but you’re important to us. To me. You and Muriel and Toby and Teddy … you’re my family here. If I didn’t have you, I’m not sure I’d still be in Alaska. I don’t know if Jonah and I would have made it this far.” As fiercely as we love each other, sometimes that’s not enough.

My parents were proof of that.

I feel my eyes well with emotion. “I’m going to set a place at the table for you, and I really hope you’re there to fill it. Even if you’re in dusty old jeans and that terrible Davy Crockett hat.” I back away, not wanting to give him time to formulate another bullshit excuse. “I think we’re having grouse for dinner, and I know you hunt them so don’t even try to tell me you won’t eat that.”

I’m halfway up the path when I hear him admit in an oddly somber tone, “I’m too scared to talk to her.”

My feet stall.

“She lost her mother, and the man who raised her. She’s lookin’ for someone to replace them, and I’m a grumpy old man who’ll disappoint her. I’ve got no love to give anybody. Not her, not her kids.” His lips twist. “I don’t even remember how to love anymore.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” I trek back to him. “And I don’t think she wants to replace them. She wants to get to know you.” I know because I was in her shoes, once.

He studies his worn gloves, and I make a mental note to buy him a new pair of those, too. “Not much to know. I’m a pretty boring guy.”

I chuckle. “You’re a lot of things, Roy, but boring is not one of them.”

He shakes his head, still unconvinced. “After what I did to her mother?”

“Maybe she’ll ask you about that,” I agree. “Maybe she’ll want to know why it happened. And maybe knowing that you’ve regretted it every day since will give her the closure she needs. You won’t know until you talk to her. But what I do know, from experience, is that it’s never too late as long as you’re both willing to try. And she is, Roy. So have the guts to pick up that phone and call her. Or write her. It’ll be the best decision you’ll make for the rest of your life.” I hesitate. “I can be there when you do that. If you want.”

Roy seems to chew on that offer. “You’re gonna turn into a Popsicle if you stand out here any longer. Get on inside now, ya hear?” He starts his engine and takes off down the driveway, Oscar and Gus chasing after him.

I smile as I watch him go. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

I’m halfway up the path to the porch when the power comes back on, treating me to a dazzling display of white twinkling lights.

Chapter Twelve

“One more here,” my mother says around the bobby pin held between her teeth. She uses it to tuck in a stray ha

ir and then steps back to survey the loose updo we spent the last hour crafting. She smiles, her dazzling, hazel-green eyes drifting the full length of my fitted wedding gown. Connie proved to be a magician, working late into the night, several nights over, pulling apart stitches, snipping excess material, and sewing it back together to tailor fit to my frame. “Perfection.”