Logan appears moments later at the foot of the stairs, shouldering a duffel bag. The anger has mostly left his face, leaving a mix of sadness and uncertainty. He gives his mom a quick kiss on the cheek, then turns back toward me. “Are you going to your cabin or staying for the bonfire?”

“I should head back to my cabin,” I say, feeling a little weird about hanging out with his family if he’s not there.

He nods once. “I’ll walk you back.”

We trudge through the woods side by side without exchanging a word. So much for us talking tonight. Instead of answers, I have even more questions.

First and foremost, how am I supposed to help a man who clearly doesn’t want to be helped? He’s not just angry—he’s also violent. And not only with strangers, but with his own brothers, and I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle that. Which means ultimately, I’m going to let Les down, and even worse, myself.

“This is your stop.” Logan halts in front of my cabin but refuses to look me in the eye. That would make him human, and that’s something he doesn’t want to give me.

Being practically ignored by him makes me feel helpless and unprepared. I wait for him to say anything more, but he doesn’t. So I say good night and slip into my cabin, which is just as cold as it is outside.

Sure enough, my fire has gone out. Just another failure to add to my collection today.

A sigh of defeat pushes past my lips as I collapse onto the edge of the bed, burying my wind-chapped face in my hands. Every fiber of my being wants to break down, but I’m not risking freezing to death tonight without a fire. I start with the kindling as Logan told me, but after fifteen minutes, my hands are numb, and I still have no fire. With no other choice, I pull my phone from my pocket and call the main house.

Thankfully, Jillian picks up on the second ring.

“Everything okay, sweetheart? Need something?”

Her kindness makes my heart squeeze. Even with the night she’s had, this woman stands ready to lend a helping hand.

I explain to her that the fire’s gone out and it seems a lot colder tonight than last night. “Would you mind sending one of your sons down to help me?” I pause, then add, “Maybe not Logan.”

“Of course, dear,” she says, assuring me with her honey-sweet voice. “Sit tight, and I’ll have one of the boys there shortly.”

9

LOGAN

“Hey, Mom,” I say when I pick up my cell phone.

I almost didn’t answer because I figured she’s going to complain about me fighting with Graham, although I’d probably deserve it. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with him.