I lead her away from my parents, then make the trek to the front door, where I stop and steal another glance at her. She doesn’t look like she belongs in this outdoorsy scene. At all. Her coat is thinner than the flannel shirt I’m wearing.

“The wind’s pretty harsh on the farm. Would you like something warmer to wear?” I say as I grab my fleece-lined jacket.

She shakes her head. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

Sure.

“All right,” I say anyway as I open the door, then lead her out so we can talk away from my parents’ sneaky ears. Once we’re finally alone, though, all the words die down in my throat.

I can’t believe she’s here. Of all the people in the world, the lawyer we wanted had to be the woman I met on one of the worst days of my life, who I probably traumatized. The one I’ve had to stop myself from thinking a time or three.

She looks exactly the same as she did that night, except maybe less relaxed. Her back is ramrod straight, half of her dark, shoulder-length hair pinned behind her head. Her lips are painted a light red, although I do everything not to look in that direction. No need for a reenactment of that night.

Does she remember me? I hope to God not.

Definitely should’ve looked for a photo of attorney Wren Lawson online before today. I could’ve prepared myself to see her again, at least.

“I wanted to, uh…” I clear my throat. These nerves are unusual for me. Then again, I rarely have to deal with anything this serious. I’m not doing this for me. It’s for Dad.

Two dark eyebrows climb on her forehead. “You wanted…?”

Get it together, Aaron.

Wind carries white powder from the trees, flying around our heads as I say, “I wanted to know what it would take for you to take this case.” There. Wasn’t so hard.

“Oh. Um.” Her fingers’ grip tightens around the handles of her bag. “As I explained before, I truly think transferring the case to the branch closest to here is for the best.”

“Yeah, I got that.” The snow crunches under my boots as I take a step forward. This is the time to be convincing. “Now I want to know what it would take for you to keep it.”

Her lips pull to the side. Bad sign.

“Aaron, I—”

“Do you know why we asked for you specifically?” My throat is dry, but I try to sound confident.

She blinks. “Honestly? Not really, no.”