She said nothing more as he took the highway toward her home. The night soared above them, and the sky had cleared, the moon bright upon the snow, illuminating the dark swath of road that cut through the forest. A wash of stars swept off the mountains, a jagged purple-black outline, tipped with silvery white.

So magical, and again he heard the old song in his heart, urging him home.

Sky King Ranch had been in the family for two generations. How could his father simply sell it out from under him?

Dodge missed Echo’s road and had to bypass it instead of slamming on his brakes. Turning around, he headed down the unplowed drive. Twenty feet in, he realized his folly. “I’m going to get stuck.”

She leaned up to look at the road, the way the light carved out the darkness, the shaggy whitened arms of black spruce shivering, closing in on the far end.

It was a half-mile walk.

She reached for the door handle.

“Stop.” He looked at her. “I’m not letting you off here to walk a half mile through the snow.”

“I can take care of myself. I’m a wilderness guide.”

“It’s dark and cold and—”

“I have a headlamp.”

“No. You’re not going alone.”

She sighed. “I have somehow managed to survive for years without you, and I will continue to do so in the future.”

Huh? Wait—

She didn’t meet his eyes.

“Did I read this all wrong? Last night—”

“Last night was me being tired—we both were—and maybe I was a little scared, too, about my friend, and I didn’t want to be alone. But I’m a big girl. I have been in the forest by myself plenty of times, and besides, Goose is with me.” She reached for the door handle again.

And he reached for his. “Great. I’ll go with you.”

“No, you won’t. Go home.”

“You think I’m just going to leave you here, watch you go, knowing that something could happen to you?”

She stared at him. “You didn’t think about me for ten years! Why would you suddenly start worrying about me now?” She held up her hand, lowered her voice. “Let’s just call this before we find ourselves getting really hurt.”

He had nothing, the punch of her words sucking out his breath. “I worried about you every single day I was gone. You never left my thoughts—”

“Forgive me if that’s a little hard to believe. I wrote to you—”

“Thirty-eight letters.”

Her eyes widened, her shoulders rising and falling, her breath a tiny cloud between them. “Yes. And you didn’t answer even one.”

That was fair. “I didn’t know what to say.”