After he’d made love to her. After she’d said—
Oh, fuck!
She’d said it!
I love you.
Panic instantly seized her soul. Ciara was on her feet in a heartbeat. Pacing. Agonizing. Wondering what the hell had gotten into her to make her say those words!
Okay, that would be Scout… But, seriously.
She drew up short.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
She eyed his cell again.
Scout had been in such a mad-rush to leave her following her seriously horrific confession that he’d actually left his phone behind?
Her heart all but crumbled in her chest. Her stomach contorted into some weird, sadistic knot that made it difficult to breathe.
Scout had told her she was his everything. Had made love to her. And she’d let those three little words slip.
Now here she was. Standing in the middle of the living room with nothing but glowing embers left in the hearth.
Here she was. Alone.
Always, always alone.
Tears burned the backs of her eyes but they weren’t solely related to heartbreak. Ciara was furious. Furious that Scout would ditch her in the middle of the night.
Of all the lousy things to do!
And to do it to her!
What the hell was going on with that man? Had he really changed so much over the past year? To quit hockey… To distance himself from his family… To sneak out of her house after the things they’d said to each other, the way he’d made her feel, the way he’d held her?
She had no idea what his deal was.
But, by God, she was going to find out!
***
Scout was shoveling the walkway to the outbuilding that housed the maintenance equipment for Win Creek Cabin and the surrounding acreage while his thoughts were on Ciara. He’d left his phone at her house. Had tried to call over there from the B&B—even called his own cell—but got no answer. He’d stopped by, but Ciara wasn’t home. None of the Pilgrim Society ladies were on the property at that time, either.
If he could remember her actual cell number, he would have called it. But who the hell mesmerized numbers that have been on speed dial for a million years? And damn it, he hadn’t been able to reach his mother, either. Where the hell was everyone this morning?
Scratch that. He didn’t want to know the answer when it came to his mother. Especially if it involved Henry Venti.
Yet he needed to explain—to apologize—to Ciara for running out on her in the middle of the night. But he’d also committed to being up at the cabin this morning to help his brothers. They were all off doing Lord only knew what, though he’d heard voices coming from the snowmobile shed—JT and Ham bickering about something Scout couldn’t even begin to make out. And with his head still throbbing, Scout didn’t want to insinuate himself in the mix until they cooled down. Then he heard Ham and a female voice. Hamilton’s old flame Gaby, Scout assumed.
Best to avoid all of those scenarios for the moment. Let his brothers work out their relationship issues between themselves and/or with their women, because Scout wasn’t exactly rocking his own problems. With his family or with Ciara. So he finished up his task. It was the third time he’d cleared the paths. The snow was coming down hard—and wet. Never a good thing in avalanche country, particularly when there was already a substantial accumulation.
Wind blew the flurries and it was damn cold, but working outside helped him to sort through some of his thoughts. Scout was an outdoorsman all the way. He’d never liked being confined anywhere, had always preferred nature to being stuck inside. So when he was at the cabin, it was an unspoken rule that he managed all the shoveling, wood chopping, landscaping, painting… Whatever needed to be done year-round. Though, of course, he hadn’t really been here year-round of late. And that was a shame. Because he’d missed the place, and was definitely having second thoughts about agreeing to a sale.
While Scout considered this, his older brother JT trudged through the snow, not the least bit interested in using the cleared path. He headed straight for Scout, shaking his head and grumbling to himself. Looking massively pissed off.
“Yo, bro,” Scout called out. “I’m not shoveling for my health, you know?”