him. He tipped his head back to the sky and roared out all of his pain and rage and hurt.
When he'd gotten it out of his system, the bear within him once again lying quiescent in its misery, he became aware that he was shivering in the morning breeze and went back into the cabin. He dressed by rote muscle-memory, not caring what he put on, and then stirred up the fire and put on the leftovers of last night's coffee to reheat. This drew his attention to the fact that there were two coffee cups instead of just one. Everything, it seemed, was going to be a reminder of Felicity for a little while.
Couldn't she just fall on someone else's roof? Why me?
Feeling a little better with a cup of coffee in hand, he sat down at the table and lifted the book off her note. He was going to have to read it sooner or later. May as well find out what she had to say for herself.
He read it once, quickly, then again, more slowly. His coffee cooled on the table while he read it over, very carefully, a third and fourth time.
This didn't sound like goodbye.
He'd forgotten completely that she had a business in Minneapolis she had to take care of. Although he still wasn't too happy about the way she'd just flown off without saying goodbye. But of course she had to get back to her business. And after that ...
After that, he wasn't sure. This weekend he'd managed to successfully avoid thinking about ... well, anything, really, except for Felicity and her luscious charms. But she had a life back in Minneapolis. For his own part, he couldn't imagine living there.
First things first, he told himself. Since the woman you love just went off to a city miles and miles away, you need to get a phone.
There was only one place around here to do that, so after a fast breakfast Hunter jolted down the rutted road in his truck, headed for Falls Creek.
The storm had blown through, blowing the last of winter out with it. The air was warm and mild, fragrant with the scent of a thousand kinds of green growing things. Hunter left the truck windows rolled down to enjoy it.
This place had put him back together, after the breakup with Christine. The solitude of the cabin and the friendship of his welcoming but undemanding neighbors had begun to heal the hole in his heart. He had no bad memories here. This was his safe place.
But now ...
If Felicity asked you to follow her to Minneapolis, would you do it?
Hunter shook his head. He didn't know.
The narrow road wound past several neighbors' driveways, becoming eventually smoother and straighter, until it met the gravel road that ran into town. He hadn't encountered a single car on the dirt road from the cabin, but now he passed a few. Each and every one of them was driven by someone he knew. Hunter lifted a hand off the steering wheel in acknowledgment; they gave little waves in return.
Near the edge of town, he passed Mrs. Muntz walking her dogs. She raised Great Danes, and had three of them on leashes. He slowed the truck to a crawl as he went by her, so as not to spray her with gravel and leave her in the cloud of dust he was raising on the road. She waved to him and called out a cheerful hello. He smiled and gave her a wave back.
He couldn't possibly leave here ... could he?
Falls Creek was the sort of place that someone like Felicity, who hailed from the city, probably wouldn't even have called a town. There were a handful of businesses clustered along the road where it crossed the state highway, just before a bridge across the creek that gave the town its name. Hunter drove past one of the two churches in town—there was one on each end of town, the Lutherans on one side and the Baptists on the other. Anyone else had to go to the next town over.
The Falls Creek Pub was still closed, but the Creekside Diner seemed to be doing a brisk business. Just past the diner was his destination, Murray Bartos's hardware and electronics store.
It was always a bit of a crapshoot whether Murray would be open or not, or
When he'd gotten it out of his system, the bear within him once again lying quiescent in its misery, he became aware that he was shivering in the morning breeze and went back into the cabin. He dressed by rote muscle-memory, not caring what he put on, and then stirred up the fire and put on the leftovers of last night's coffee to reheat. This drew his attention to the fact that there were two coffee cups instead of just one. Everything, it seemed, was going to be a reminder of Felicity for a little while.
Couldn't she just fall on someone else's roof? Why me?
Feeling a little better with a cup of coffee in hand, he sat down at the table and lifted the book off her note. He was going to have to read it sooner or later. May as well find out what she had to say for herself.
He read it once, quickly, then again, more slowly. His coffee cooled on the table while he read it over, very carefully, a third and fourth time.
This didn't sound like goodbye.
He'd forgotten completely that she had a business in Minneapolis she had to take care of. Although he still wasn't too happy about the way she'd just flown off without saying goodbye. But of course she had to get back to her business. And after that ...
After that, he wasn't sure. This weekend he'd managed to successfully avoid thinking about ... well, anything, really, except for Felicity and her luscious charms. But she had a life back in Minneapolis. For his own part, he couldn't imagine living there.
First things first, he told himself. Since the woman you love just went off to a city miles and miles away, you need to get a phone.
There was only one place around here to do that, so after a fast breakfast Hunter jolted down the rutted road in his truck, headed for Falls Creek.
The storm had blown through, blowing the last of winter out with it. The air was warm and mild, fragrant with the scent of a thousand kinds of green growing things. Hunter left the truck windows rolled down to enjoy it.
This place had put him back together, after the breakup with Christine. The solitude of the cabin and the friendship of his welcoming but undemanding neighbors had begun to heal the hole in his heart. He had no bad memories here. This was his safe place.
But now ...
If Felicity asked you to follow her to Minneapolis, would you do it?
Hunter shook his head. He didn't know.
The narrow road wound past several neighbors' driveways, becoming eventually smoother and straighter, until it met the gravel road that ran into town. He hadn't encountered a single car on the dirt road from the cabin, but now he passed a few. Each and every one of them was driven by someone he knew. Hunter lifted a hand off the steering wheel in acknowledgment; they gave little waves in return.
Near the edge of town, he passed Mrs. Muntz walking her dogs. She raised Great Danes, and had three of them on leashes. He slowed the truck to a crawl as he went by her, so as not to spray her with gravel and leave her in the cloud of dust he was raising on the road. She waved to him and called out a cheerful hello. He smiled and gave her a wave back.
He couldn't possibly leave here ... could he?
Falls Creek was the sort of place that someone like Felicity, who hailed from the city, probably wouldn't even have called a town. There were a handful of businesses clustered along the road where it crossed the state highway, just before a bridge across the creek that gave the town its name. Hunter drove past one of the two churches in town—there was one on each end of town, the Lutherans on one side and the Baptists on the other. Anyone else had to go to the next town over.
The Falls Creek Pub was still closed, but the Creekside Diner seemed to be doing a brisk business. Just past the diner was his destination, Murray Bartos's hardware and electronics store.
It was always a bit of a crapshoot whether Murray would be open or not, or
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