He’d have to tell Colt and Ranger that he had a ride. He spotted Ranger shooting baskets, surrounded by a group of other seventh graders. Colt—who knew? He was probably off with some kids smoking. Dodge had caught him twice with a cigarette and threatened to tell their father. He’d think Colt might care a little about not dying from cancer like their mother.

But Dodge had kept his mouth shut because that’s what he did. Protected his stupid brother. He didn’t know why.

The bell rang.

“See you later.” Echo got up and he watched her walk away.

Prettier and maybe taller. That was it.

He got up, stashed his book, and headed for class.

And he’d thought of nothing all afternoon but Echo Yazzie and the way she walked, that pretty hair shining in the sun, and the way her eyes turned magical when she smiled.

Now, sitting at the kitchen island a lifetime later, he read a sentence for the third time, blowing absently on his lasagna. She still had magical eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He closed his book. “It’s not close to over. You’ve been nursing this wound for nearly ten years, . . . trying to forget the girl you loved since you were ten. There’s no way this is over.”

Shoot, the old man was right too.

Ten years hadn’t burned her away, despite the miles. And he had forgiven her—really. He’d been a child when he’d left. And besides, he’d had no claim on her.

She had every right to kiss Colt.

Especially since she’d made it clear she wasn’t going to marry Dodge.

“No, Dodge. I . . . can’t.” He still couldn’t believe that she’d turned him down so fast—not even a hesitation. Sure, he didn’t have a ring—way to think that out, Dodge—but he’d thought for sure . . .

That was what happened when he acted on impulse, without a plan. People got hurt.

Lives were ruined.

If only he’d learned his lesson then.

“Maybe that’s why God brought you back—for her.”

Aw shoot. He needed to get outside, do something before he started agreeing with the old man.

He finished off his food, washed his dishes, and put them on the rack. Then he put on his coat, boots, hat, and scarf and stepped out onto the deck.

Snow had accumulated on the steps since his last pass, and he picked up the shovel by the door and cleared a path out to the drive that went from the lodge to the hangar.

The sky had calmed, but with the cloud cover it still wasn’t safe to fly. He had a request from Remington Mines to use the chopper to move some equipment to an inland stake. He’d go out in the morning if it was safe.

Meanwhile, he’d plow the runway.