I resolutely pushed the old worry away and informed him, “The snow’s getting worse, and the sun’s going down. If you’re getting back on the road, you need to go now.”

Those words finally made him stop. He buried the ax in the tree trunk and glanced around as if he was just now realizing there was a huge snowstorm raging around him.

He looked at the angry snow. Then back at me. And still, it took him a while to answer, “Alright, I’ll go.”

We gathered up as much wood as we could in our arms. My bundle of logs wasn’t nearly as big as his, but it would be more than enough to get me through the worst of the storm.

I was incredibly grateful as we walked back to the house. Also, resentful because he belonged to Shelby of all people. It was complicated.

“Well, thank you for taking the time to talk with me, Ms. Winters.”

I bristled at his formality—not just because I still wasn’t used to being addressed by the fake name I’d taken when I was a teen to cover up my father’s real last name.

I’d seen clips of Josh glad-handing voters and making sure to call them by their first names like they were old friends. His formality with me meant something. I sensed him trying to push me away.

Which was fine, I supposed. I wanted him gone. The words once again rose like a mantra inside my chest. Out of my life. Out of my mind. Out of my heart.

“Goodbye, Mr. Grant,” I answered, matching his overly polite tones.

A weird ache radiated in my chest when he turned to open the cabin door. I refused to acknowledge it, though. The only thing I should have been feeling at that moment was relief that I got through that encounter with Josh Grant without revealing—

A cold blast of air cut off my thoughts.

The wind screamed past the cabin like a wraith seeking vengeance. And my stomach sank when I saw the scene outside the front door. The world had become a blanket of white. And though I didn’t see the vehicle he drove up in, I could only assume it was the car-shaped lump covered in snow.

A top-of-the-line luxury vehicle, I guessed. And the closest hotel was at least twenty miles away. Even if we could dig his car out, I doubted it had the snow tires and four-wheel drive to make it far in this kind of weather.

Josh simply flipped up the collar on his peacoat and set his insanely square jaw.

“Best of luck in your future endeavors,” he said before dipping his head to walk out into the blizzard.

Okay, apparently, I wasn’t as big of a coward as I thought I was. Just as he was about to clear the threshold, I grabbed his arm.