The sun beyond the windows had begun to sink below the horizon. Despite the relatively early hour, darkness was about to fall. A fire roared within the large hearth and the aroma of Mrs. Mayhand’s holiday meal could be smelled from the kitchen.

Van’s eyes were closed as his fingers ran over the keys. It was as if he had a sixth sense, feeling the piano instead of seeing it. His hands worked independently from one another as his toes pressed the appropriate pedals and his wide shoulders and torso swayed with the beat.

The mountain-man clothes from before were replaced by casual wear, faded blue jeans, canvas loafers, and a long-sleeved button-up with his sleeves rolled to his elbows. His damp dark hair and clean-shaven jaw told me that he’d showered after coming into my bathroom.

The melody slowed as his eyes opened.

His expression that only seconds before seemed sad morphed before my eyes as his green stare met mine.

“That was beautiful,” I said, walking up to the large piano. “Please don’t stop.”

“I like when you say that—not to stop.” He tilted his head to the side, indicating the bench beside him.

Standing at his side, I ran my palm over his smooth cheek. “You know, if you were going to shower, you could have joined me.”

“We’d still be up there.”

“There’s always later tonight.”

Sitting where he’d indicated, I peered up at his protruding brow. “Are you worried about this meeting?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You said you haven’t played the piano in a while and that song was ominous.”

“I haven’t played.” He spun, pulling one leg over the bench and tugging me between his legs. “I seem to mostly remember morose melodies. I should brush up on some happier songs.”

“When did you say you stopped playing?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I said.” When I didn’t speak, he answered. “It was before Brooklyn was born.”

“Have you tried to speak to your brother?”

He shook his head. “Let’s concentrate on one family at a time. I’ll get a notification when your parents pass the gate.”

“Did you close it?”

“No, it’s electronically monitored. I didn’t have my phone turned on at the cabin and there’s no Wi-Fi or cell service out there. That’s why last night I didn’t realize the barrier had been breached.”

My chest pushed against my sweater as I inhaled. “I want them to come and go so we can be just us.”

Van’s large hands roamed up and down my arms, finding my skin beneath the large openings of the sweater cuffs. “I would tell your parents to leave and keep you hidden if I could.”

My forehead fell to his wide chest. “I would like that.”