There’d been no word. Even worse, all his attempts at communication had been ignored.
Which wasn’t the only thing on his mind. Bailey. He had Bailey on his mind.
All the damn time.
Their night had been… amazing. And seeing as she’d been pretty clear about it also being their only night, it was also messing him up since it’d been the best one he’d had in a long time.
Or ever.
Which meant he was going to have to get over it.
“Hud?” his mom asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about Jacob, Mom. I’ll take care of him.”
She smiled and patted his hand. “You’re such a good boy. You take so much on your shoulders. I know it’s not fair how much I’ve leaned on you. How much we all have.”
He lifted his head and met her eyes. Clear. He stilled. “Mom?” he asked quietly. Is that you in there?
Her eyes shined brilliantly, with so much sadness. “It’s not your fault, honey.”
“What’s not?”
“That he left.”
He tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat but couldn’t. She was lucid. Really lucid.
“You’re both so stubborn,” she said. “But sometimes it’s okay to just let go of the past, to wipe the slate clean and start over.” She gave a small smile. “That saying is so outdated now, isn’t it? No one uses a slate chalkboard anymore. I bet kids these days don’t even know what chalk is. They just…” She made a swiping gesture with her finger, like she was swiping a touch pad. “Goodness, how different our lives are today than they used to be.”
Hud slowly set down his sandwich and even more slowly reached for her hand, as if his movement might scare her brain into retreating again. “Mom—”
“And don’t even get me started on this whole texting thing,” she said. “Do you realize that we have now raised an entire generation of people who don’t know how to talk to each other face-to-face? Even you have never known the terror of calling a girl you like and having to ask her dad if she can come to the phone. You probably never even call the girls you like. You probably just text or Snapchat.” She narrowed her eyes. “You do go to their door to pick them up though, right? You don’t just honk for them? And tell me you open their doors and buy dinner when you take them out. None of this Dutch thing. I’m telling you, romance is dead, but that’s no excuse for bad manners—”
“Mom.”
She smiled. “What, baby?”
He didn’t take his eyes off of her. “Stay. Stay right here, right now, okay? Stay with me.”
“Well of course I will. Where else would I be? You going to eat your pickle?”
Stunned, speechless, throat burning, Hud handed over his pickle.
Carrie munched on it, and then they ate their birthday cupcakes. She smiled at him.
He smiled back, feeling his heart lighten and a load come off. “It’s a nice night,” he said. “Do you want to take a walk outside?”
She eyed the clock. “Nice try but it’s past your curfew. Off to bed with you. Go on now.”
Hud let out a long, slow breath and nodded, the pain back in his chest. He got up and leaned over her to kiss her on the cheek. “Sweet dreams.”
She smiled sweetly up at him. “Right back atcha, baby.”
Hud walked out of her room and shut the door. Leaning against the wall, he pulled out his cell phone, called Jacob’s, and left a voicemail. “I don’t know where the fuck you are or what the fuck you’re doing,” he said, “but you’re a complete asshole.” He paused. “And I’m fucking sorry. Okay? I suck as a brother and I’m sorry. Now get over it and get your ass home.”
He shoved his phone in his pocket and walked out of the building. The night was dark and stormy. Winds had died down. The skies were trying to decide between a very light snow and clearing up.
He found a tall, broad shadow leaning against his truck, hood up, head down.
“How is she?” Gray asked.
Hud shook his head.
Gray studied him for a moment and then turned and looked into the night. “Good conditions.”
“Yeah.”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yeah.”
Half an hour later they were at the top of the mountain, skis on. Night skiing was their secret thrill, and they gave in to it in times of high stress. “How did you know where I was?” Hud asked when they stopped to catch their breath.
“Penny.” Gray shrugged. “Like I told you, it’s good to have a woman at your six, man. And not just any woman, but your woman.”
Hud looked out into the black night lit by a sliver of a moon. They each wore headlamps so they didn’t do something stupid, like ski into a tree. If Penny discovered where they were now and what they were doing, she’d kill them.
But much as Gray loved her—and Hud had no doubt that Gray would die for her without hesitation—Penny didn’t know about this. But she knew about everything else as it pertained to Gray, everything—the good, the bad, the ugly.
“How do you know when it’s time?” Hud asked.
“To let someone in?”
“Yeah.”
When his brother didn’t answer, Hud turned his head and looked at him.
“You’ll know,” Gray said.
“How?”
“Trust me. You’ll just know. Clear?”
Yeah, clear as mud.
Late on Friday night, Bailey drove just ahead of a storm, which followed her up the mountain. It was a little stressful but she liked the idea of being able to wake up and go right to work.
Plus it meant more time in Cedar Ridge.
It’s not Cedar Ridge you rushed up here for…
Laughing at herself, she dropped off her bag at the efficiency apartment and walked in the dark to the village. Past the tiny coffee hut, closed now, but she could still smell the faint scent of the caffeine and sugar that were mainlined there every morning. The rental shop was shut up tight as well, for once utterly devoid of the hundreds of skiers and boarders that passed through the place every morning seeking equipment. The beauty salon was closed, too, but there was a light on and within she caught sight of Aidan’s girlfriend Lily hunched over a laptop. She waved.
Other than that, there was no one else around. The mountain had closed to skiers and boarders several hours ago. The only thing open now was the cafeteria, and that was getting ready to close too.
The path had been cleared and rock salt laid down to keep it from icing up. They’d had a bunch of snow this week, she thought, a little surprised at the berms built high on either side of the trail. The wind had died a little bit and the snow fell silently in thick lines, each snowflake the size of a big white dinner plate.
It never failed to awe her as she stopped and just took it all in: the glorious view of the mountain backdropped against the black night, the eerie, calm quiet echoing around her.
She stared up at the mural—protected from the elements by two walls of the lodge and the huge overhanging patio roof. The beautiful tree was the centerpiece, stretched across the top and bottom of the wall, framing in the highlights on the family tree as they moved in chronological order from left to right. She’d started with Gray, since he was the oldest. The leader. The glue.
Well actually, Penny was the glue, Bailey corrected with a smile. She loved them both already, adored their relationship, and knew that the others did as well.
In any case, she could now see what the entire tapestry would look like and for a moment she felt an overwhelming surge of emotion.
Pride.
Because she was really doing it. Surviving and living and doing something with her life, something she’d never expected to get to do.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a profile of a man in the shadows. Hudson. Her heart skipped a beat and she smiled at him.
He smiled back, much more muted than she expected. Then he stepped closer and she realized her mistake. Not Hudson
at all.
Aidan.
He looked up at the mural and smiled. “So it turns out that you can paint.”
She went brows up. “Lucky for you.”
He laughed. “I had a feeling.”
She stared at him. “You hired me on a feeling?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Well you did come at a good price.” He flashed her a smile that was so close to Hud’s her heart skipped another beat. “And as a bonus—you get Hud.”
“That’s a bonus?” she asked.
He laughed. “Hell yeah.”
She cocked her head at the echo of what sounded like a couple of guys whooping it up. Turning to the mountain, lit only by the glow of the night, she saw them.
Two skiers, careening down the run at breakneck speed. “Ohmigod,” she whispered. “Is that—”
“Yeah.” Aidan let out a low laugh as he acknowledged two of his brothers doing the unthinkable—skiing in the dark, in a storm. “It’s how they let off steam.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the two figures attacking the mountain with that incredible speed, and yet each movement they made was sheer, unchoreographed grace. “Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Living is dangerous,” Aidan said.
“I’m serious! They can’t have very good depth perception.”
“Actually,” he said, “with the lighting the way it is right now with the snow and the reflection from the clouds, it’s pretty awesome. It’s not too cold, the wind died down, and they have the entire mountain to themselves. It’s not dangerous for two guys who know this mountain inside and out as they do.”
“So why aren’t you up there then?” she asked.
The smile widened. “I kicked Gray out of his office because he works too hard. And I don’t think Hud’s taken a day off in… I have no idea. Between running all of ski patrol and working shifts at the cop shop several times a week, I don’t even know how he’s still on his feet. With all he’s got on his plate, I’m glad he’s taking a break.”
The moment was interrupted by low voices carrying across the night air.
The skiers returning.
Gray waved. Hud met Bailey’s eyes but didn’t wave. They vanished into the thick woods.
“They’re climbing back to the top for round three,” Aidan said. “Or maybe it’s four.”
“That’s as crazy as skiing in the dark!”
“It’s part of the adventure,” Aidan said on a low laugh. “It’s what we Kincaids do.”
“And what’s that? Dare death at every turn?”
He smiled. “Live. Live hard. Confront life at every turn. We’re tough, and that’s because we’ve had to be.”
Okay, she was starting to get that. If there was a problem, Hud faced it head-on, dangerous or not. He faced everything that way, without flinching.
He thought she was the tough one, but she wasn’t. All her life she’d just gone along with the tide, letting the ride take her where it would.
That wasn’t Hudson’s style. In fact, given all that she knew about him—how he’d grown up and the way he watched out for his family at any cost—he was one of the toughest people she’d ever met. She said so out loud.
Aidan nodded at that, his eyes solemn now. “Yeah, he is.” His warm hand touched her cold face, a brief caress. “So the question is, are you tough enough to take him on? How brave are you feeling, Bailey?”
“I’m not—” She swallowed at Aidan’s steady gaze. Hud thought she was brave and she’d loved knowing that. Maybe it was time she owned it. “It’s not what you think.”
“What I think is that my brother is one of the best guys I know, and he deserves a hell of a lot more than the hand he’s been dealt. If you’re not willing to push hard to get to the finish line with him, then you should think about dropping out of the race now before anyone gets hurt.”
“We’re not… There’s no race.” But she was talking to the night air because Aidan was gone.
Chapter 14
It was past midnight when Hud and Gray had had enough of night skiing. Exhausted, Gray left Hud so that he could crawl into bed with Penny.
Hud knew he should get into bed too. The night before he’d been called in to sub for a graveyard shift in town where he’d gone on one idiotic call after another. The first one had set the tone for the night. It’d started as a domestic disturbance. A couple had gotten in a fight at their home, where they’d each—from separate rooms in the house—thrown the other’s shit out the windows.
Their mistake had been when one of them had somehow come to the conclusion that lighting their spouse’s belongings on fire would be a good idea. They were instantly copied by the other—of course neither would cop to starting it—and they’d accidentally set their yard on fire as well. Consequently, while they were yelling and screaming at each other, their house had gone up in flames.
This had brought the wife to tears and the husband had caved at the sight, promising her another house, better clothes, and the whole world if she’d only stop crying.
Instead, they’d both gone to jail.
After that had come a bar fight at the Slippery Slope. Two fifty-something-year-old men had come to blows over who was going to pay the bar tab. No one could say who’d thrown the first punch, but in less than five minutes the entire bar was one big brawl.
When Hud and his fellow officers had broken up the fight, everyone had pointed their fingers at the two men who’d started it.
Turned out that they worked together and one had slept with the other’s ex-wife.
Hud had been handcuffing one when the other had jumped him. “Get the fuck off him, you asshole!” the idiot screamed in Hud’s ear.
Hud flipped him over his shoulder and held him to the ground, with the sole of one of his work boots to the small of the guy’s back. The two other cops who raced to Hud’s side gave disbelieving headshakes at the insanity of the night, and then they handcuffed both of them.
Seated elbow-to-elbow on the curb, they were suddenly united as one and cursing the police as assholes.
It was the theme of the night. Now here Hud was after another long day and some very satisfying night skiing with Gray, sitting in his office at the resort. Too keyed up to go home to bed, he’d come here to catch up and work through days of unread email.
He had one from Max, and Hud froze as he read it. Jacob’s unit had taken enemy fire—no word on injuries.
Or fatalities.
The email was dated two days ago. Nothing since, which only meant there’d been no new info.
Two days. Fuck. Anything could have happened, and there in the dark of his office Hud stood and sent his phone flying across the room. He heard rather than saw it bounce off the wall and hit the floor.
Along with a shocked gasp.
Pulling his gun in one swift move as he turned to the doorway, he aimed it at the shadow’s face—“Jesus,” he muttered, and immediately lowered it again. Shoving the gun into the back of his jeans, he hit the light. “How did you find me?”
Bailey blinked up at him, eyes huge. “I went to your place and then tried here next. Hudson, I’m sorry, I just—” She shook her head, her eyes glassy.
He grabbed her arm, kicked his chair out from his desk, and lowered her into it. “Not your fault.” He ran a hand over his eyes and mentally kicked his own ass. “I’m sorry,” he said, and turned away, staring out past the window into the dark sky beyond. “It’s been one of those nights.” Weeks. Months…
Most everyone he knew would have left him alone, retreated in the face of his obvious bad mood, leaving him to lick his own wounds.