A curt laugh shot from her mouth. “I’ll bet he did. That boy is slick when it comes to women. Just don’t get taken in by those good looks. He’s not just trouble with a capital T. The whole damn word needs be capitalized when it comes to Jem Wolfe.”

“How do you know for sure? I thought your uncle didn’t let you associate with them.” I had no idea why I was defending him.

Everly looked slightly taken aback. “He doesn’t, and that’s because he knows Jem and Dane and their awful dad, Alcott. And I know my uncle. If he doesn’t trust them, then that’s good enough for me.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry I questioned you. I didn’t mean it. I’m sure there’s plenty of evidence to support his bad reputation.” A topic change was needed. “So, you said there’s a guy you like. Finn, was it?”

“Yes. In fact, he works on the water with Jem. They sort the logs out on the river.” She grew quiet for a second. “To be honest, Finn says that Jem isn’t as bad as everyone thinks. And I do trust Finn’s opinion too. It’s getting chilly.” She swung my duffle bag back and forth as we picked up our pace. “If only I could sway Finn’s opinion about me. He considers me a friend, but I want more. But it’s hard for him, and I can’t blame him. The scars are hard to look at.”

I’d changed the topic, but this one was far more difficult. “Everly, I can’t imagine what it’s like for you, but I can tell you, just a few minutes after we met, I forgot about the scars. You are so much fun to be around, and you’re kind and generous and smart and extremely pretty. I just know if you give him the chance, he’ll be able to look past the scars.”

“You’re sweet, Tash.” She sighed wistfully. “What about you? You must have left behind at least one grieving heart back home.”

I thought about Cormac back home in The Grog. I doubted his heart was grieving any more than mine. “There was someone, but our hearts weren’t really connected. It started as a crush. I was nineteen and he was a grad student at a nearby college, an older man of twenty-four. He had long hair and he was an amazing painter and he’d philosophize about all kinds of stuff. I’d listen to him raptly as he talked about all his theories on life. Later, I realized the attraction was purely physical. He was handsome with a nice set of shoulders and the tightest, most perfect ass in a pair of jeans.”

Everly laughed so hard she tripped on a crack in the uneven sidewalk. I grabbed hold of her arm to keep her from falling face first. “I knew we’d get along perfectly,” she said as she caught her breath.

“God, that sounded so shallow. My aunt probably felt a twinge of disappointment when I said it. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. I’ve never had someone who I think about even when they’re not around. That connection through air waves or brain waves or heart waves, I’ve never felt it with anyone.”

“Me either. But I think Finn would change that.” Everly turned up a brick path that led to a boxy yellow house that needed paint and a roof but looked pleasantly lived in. “Now ignore the mess. I haven’t picked up or vacuumed or whatever you need to do to make a place look spiffy.” She opened the door, and we walked inside. It reminded me of Aunt Carly’s house, comfortable, semi-shabby furniture and that extremely lived in look. There was a half-finished jigsaw puzzle spread out over a large coffee table, a faded but cozy looking sofa and a big chair took up most of the room.

“Let me show you to my mom’s room. You can bunk in there.”

I followed her down the hall and she pushed open a bedroom door. Wallpaper with tiny pink roses that looked as if it had gone up when the house was first built covered three walls. A floral bedspread sat on the mattress, and there was a green velvet bench at the end of the bed. The side window had striped pink curtains.

I put down my bags and guitar. “It’s perfect, Everly. I can’t thank you enough. Just come up with a rent amount. I can pay you after I get my first paycheck from the mill.” I shook my head. “Listen to me with the uber-confidence. That is, if the new job works out for me. I must confess, after your reaction, I’m feeling a little less secure about my new position.”

“No don’t. You’ll be fine. It’s the bunch of thick-headed jerks who work at the mill who’ll have a problem. But Hal will set them straight. He always does. I know he used to have his wife helping in the office, but she started having problems with her arthritis. He’ll be glad to have you, I’m sure.”

I looked around the room. It was decidedly feminine, as if no man had ever lived in the house. “What about your dad, Everly? Is he around still?”

She shrugged and motioned for me to follow her out to the kitchen. “Don’t know much about him. Years back, before I was born, the mill would be shorthanded and Hal would hire on workers who were just traveling from lumber town to lumber town, picking up jobs when they could.” She reached into her refrigerator and pulled out some string cheese. We sat at the table. “He was some drifter who’d only stayed long enough to woo my mom and get her pregnant. He was gone before she even realized it. There was a man named Aaron who lived with us when I was little, but he took off eventually too. My mom’s never had great luck in the romance department. I just hope I don’t follow in her unhappily ever after footsteps.” She handed me a piece of cheese.

“I never knew my mom either.” I sat back. It had always been hard to talk about my mom. I had no memories at all of her except the few blurry pictures on my dad’s desk. I could sometimes see glimpses of her reflected in his eyes when he was talking about her. She had loved birds, and Dad would laugh about all the bird feeders around the yard. “I would have given anything to know her. She died giving birth to me, a massive heart attack that no one saw coming. Of course, I was only a tiny baby, but it’s hard not to feel responsible.”

“Whoa, that’s rough.” She leaned her forearms on the table. Under the fluorescent kitchen light, the scarred arm looked like it belonged on a mannequin, a mannequin that had melted in a terrible fire. “See, Tash. That’s why we bonded instantly. We’ve both been through some really ugly crap. Do you think our happy ending is waiting or are we going to be like those books that you read and you invest all this emotion and time into the characters and then bang you’re hit with a depressing ending?”

“No, Ever, I think the good stuff is just waiting around the corner. Or at least I hope it is.”

Chapter 6

Jem

The air over the river was always a good ten degrees colder than the rest of yard. But it was a clear blue day with no threat of a sudden thunderstorm, so the sun would eventually melt away the morning’s chill. Even in late fall and early winter, when the river bank was glazed with ice, I preferred to be out sorting logs in the water than standing in the sawmill listening to all the bullshit being passed as conversation. Finn, my usual partner on the water, was a guy who mostly kept to himself, and that was fine with me.

After the scene in his office the day before, Hal, the owner, was definitely giving me the cold shoulder, which was no big deal except that he normally came out to the water with the day’s orders. I had no choice except to trudge back to the office and pick them up. Nathan Franks shot me an ice cold scowl as I crossed the main yard. We’d never been friends, and for good reason. The guy was an asshole. I was sure he had the same opinion of me. And he was right.

Rockfield headed toward me, with bad leg in tow. “Saw you and Dane heading out last night.” Puffs of white cold air punctuated his words. “Poker or pussy?”

“What’s with this or shit? It was Thursday night or as Dane likes to call it, Friday eve. It’s not a good Friday eve unless I’ve had both.” While I generally hated everything and everyone associated with my dad, Rocky was the one friend I tolerated, more because I felt sorry for the fool than anything else. There were times when he was sitting in Dad’s house watching T.V. or drinking a beer, and he would wince as if he was reliving the pain of the gnarly chainsaw accident. Rumor was that the doctors were ready to just finish what the chainsaw had started, but Rocky had begged them to try and save the leg. He’d nearly died from the infection, and he was completely addicted to painkillers, a habit I was sure he’d never kicked. But he was walking on both legs . . . almost.