Jeff squinted against the winter sun as a movement caught the corner of his eye. He glanced over, prepared to give a friendly wave to a neighbor, hoping the neighbor would stop and tell Mr. and Mrs. Jensen how great this area was. But the woman didn’t wave. In fact, she looked quickly away the moment their gazes connected.
Jeff’s breath caught. It was Alicia. Her hair might be mostly concealed by a purple beanie hat, and her turned-up collar prevented him from seeing her entire face, but he’d gotten a good-enough look.
He wondered if she was training for a race-walking competition, or if she was just trying to get out of speaking to him. Probably the latter.
“You have my number,” Jeff said to Mr. and Mrs. Jensen. “I’ve got to catch up with someone and ask a few questions . . . about the neighborhood. Please let me know your thoughts after you discuss this home. We have two others lined up tomorrow to visit.”
“Will do. Thanks, Jeff,” Mr. Jensen said.
Jeff shook both of their hands, then strode down the walkway to the sidewalk. Alicia was about a hundred yards away now, still walking fast. He hadn’t checked Facebook since he’d sent the friend request, and now he pretty much knew she’d deny it. So the only way to contact her was to speak to her in person. Jeff increased his stride, and when it was clear he wouldn’t be able to catch up with her without breaking into an all-out run, he called out, “Alicia?”
Her step hitched. She’d heard him, but she didn’t slow or turnaround.
“Alicia,” he called again, looking about to make sure nosy neighbors weren’t staring at him. When she still didn’t slow down or turn, he said, “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but if you could just give me thirty seconds, then I won’t bother you again.”
She continued to walk, but her step was noticeably slower, and Jeff quickly gained ground.
Finally, she came to a stop, still not looking at him. Jeff was relieved, but his pulse was also drumming with nervousness. When he caught up with her, she turned to face him.
Her hazel eyes stared up at him, and the first thing he noticed was that she’d been crying.
His heart twisted. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry for acting like I didn’t know you last night. I’m sorry for not apologizing after prom. I’m sorry for what happened with Shannon, and for not—”
“Stop,” Alicia said, holding up her hand.
Jeff stopped.
She took a deep breath and blinked a couple of times. The purple color of her beanie made her hazel eyes look more green. It also brought out the pink in her cheeks—or maybe it was the cold bite in the air. “It’s been ten years, Jeff. I’m fine.” She motioned toward him with her hand. “And you’re obviously fine.” She shrugged in a small, resigned way. “Life goes on. We were teenagers—kids, really—and emotions and hormones were crazy back then.”
Jeff nodded, relieved she was saying all of this. That she was basically accepting his apology. But the guilt was still a hard thing in his stomach. “Can I make it up to you somehow?” he asked, his thoughts racing way ahead of his speech. “Name it, and I’ll do it. I can’t stand knowing that I’ve made you cry.”
Her eyes widened. “You think I’m crying about you?”
“I—I can tell you’ve been crying,” he said. “And when you practically sprinted away from me, I just thought . . .”
She laughed, but it wasn’t a warm laugh. “Wow. You’ve still got your ego, I see.” She took a step back, shaking her head.
Panic shot through Jeff. He was going to lose her, here and now, he felt it. “Wait,” he said, reaching out and grasping her arm. As quickly as he touched her, he released her. “I mean, if you’re not crying about . . . me . . . what’s wrong?”
Her brows shot up, telling him that he’d crossed a line. Her personal life wasn’t his business. He knew it, she knew it, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Can I help you with something? I’ll do whatever you need. Is it money?”
At least she wasn’t turning and walking away again, but the expression on her face told him that he was pretty much the idiot he was ten years ago. “You think you can help me? Fix my problems?” She scoffed. “That’s really arrogant, Jeff. I’m not some damsel in distress you can throw money at and come away smelling the hero. Not every problem in this world is about money.”
He raised his hands. “I know. I just—”
“You feel guilty, that’s all this is.” Her eyes flashed with fire. “You don’t care about me, and I don’t know if you ever really did. Best friends don’t break each other’s hearts.”
Jeff looked away. It was hard to see the raw pain in her eyes. “I did care about you, Alicia,” he said in a quiet voice, meeting her gaze again. “I was mortified about what I did, and I was an idiot for trying to be someone I wasn’t.”
“Yeah,” she said with another shrug. “I get it, peer pressure.” Her gaze dropped. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”
“I know,” Jeff said. “I shouldn’t have suggested . . . well, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. I mean, I have no right to.” Their gazes held for a long moment.
And then her face crumpled.
Before she could turn away and hide her tears, Jeff pulled her into his arms. She was stiff at first, but as her shoulders shook from crying, she melted against him and buried her face against his neck. Whatever her pain and heartbreak were, it traveled straight to his own heart. He tightened his hold as she seemed to cling to him. After a moment, he realized he was smelling strawberries. It must be a perfume or something she used.
He took some comfort that she wasn’t crying about him. But it was clear her heart was breaking about something, and his instinct was to find out what was wrong and to fix it. He felt protective of her, and if this was about a boyfriend, he’d gladly confront the guy. Or maybe it was about one of her parents?
When she started to calm, he said, “Hey, my SUV is just down the road. We can get in and at least be warm. Do you want to go get coffee or something?”
She drew away from him and wiped at her face. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“We can just sit in the SUV, then?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
Jeff felt like he’d achieved a small victory. They walked down the street together, not touching, not speaking. When they reached his Land Rover, Jeff opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in, and he hurried around to the driver’s side to start the engine. The radio came on, and he turned down the volume, leaving a little background noise. He thought it might help her relax.
“You can just drive,” she said, her voice sounding a bit shaky.
Jeff was more than happy to oblige. He pulled onto the street and drove out of the neighborhood.
Alicia shoved her hands into her coat pockets and stared out her window. She wasn’t looking at him, or talking to him, but at least she’d stopped crying. And she’d let him hold her. That had to count for something. Maybe she really had forgiven him for prom. Maybe, he thought with a flicker of new hope, maybe they could be friends again. It would never be the same, he knew, but with her living and working again in Pine Valley, they could at least put the past behind them.
Jeff didn’t really have a goal in mind, but he drove toward the ski slopes. Most people were calling it a day, and the traffic going in the opposite direction was thick. But on the way up to the slopes, the lane was wide open. Jeff’s phone had buzzed a couple of times with incoming texts, but he’d been ignoring them.
When it rang, Alicia said, “You can get that. I’m sure you’re a busy man.”
Jeff wasn’t sure how to take her tone of voice, but when he glanced at the incoming call and saw that it was his receptionist, he picked up.
“Hi Clara,” he said.
“Oh hey,” she said. “You haven’t answered my texts. The Jensens want to put in an offer.”
Jeff exhaled. This was great news, but he didn’t want to abandon Alicia right now. “Okay, can you start writing everything up, and I’ll be in touch later. I’ve got some things to do right now.”
Clara was a smart woman and clued in to the fact that Jeff couldn’t talk much. “Are you sure? I’ve never really written up an offer.”
“Just pull up one from another client and compare that,” he said. “I’ll look at it when I can.” Clara agreed, and Jeff hung up with her.
He felt Alicia looking at him, so he glanced over.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Blow off work?” she asked.
He raised his brows. “Well, I was hoping we could be friends again. And, uh, friends help each other, right?”
She just stared at him for a moment with those hazel eyes of hers; then her mouth curved into the barest of smiles. But at least it was a smile, and he’d take what he could get at this point.
“I guess we could maybe be friends,” she said. “I mean, I practically soaked your shirt with my tears.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Jeff said with a laugh. He had the sudden urge to grab her hand and squeeze it, but her hands were still stuffed in her pockets, and he probably shouldn’t be grabbing her hand anyway.
He pulled into the parking lot of one of the ski slope areas. The lot was nearly empty, and only a few stragglers were loading up their skis and snowboards. Instead of parking by the lodge, Jeff kept driving toward one of the groomed trails.
“Isn’t this for snowmobiling?” Alicia asked when they hit the trail.
“We can drive as far as the first meadow.” Jeff pointed up ahead where a long wooden fence stood. “We’ll have to stop by the fence though.”
Alicia just nodded, so Jeff took that as a yes. He drove to where the fence separated the groomed trails from the deeper snow. He put the Land Rover in park but left the engine idling for now. He didn’t want to presume too much. “Do you want a water bottle?”
“Sure,” she said, tugging off her beanie and running her fingers through her hair.
Jeff handed one over to her from his stash behind the passenger’s seat. Leaning close to her brought her scent of strawberries again. Maybe it was the shampoo she used, because strawberries were completely out of season.
He straightened and tried not to notice the way her eyes were still rimmed red and how it made him want to pull her into his arms again.
“Sometimes I come out here right before the sun sets,” he said. “If we’re lucky, we’ll get to see a herd of deer come down and graze.”
“What do they graze on?” Alicia asked, looking around.
“Winter grass grows on the other side of the fence,” he said. “The fence shields it from the blowing snow, so the line of grass makes a nice little feeding trough.”
“Hmm,” Alicia said, a slight smile on her face. “How come I never knew about this?”
Jeff shrugged. “I guess I found out about it after you’d moved.”
“You moved first.”
Her tone was light, so Jeff took that as encouragement. “Maybe, but when I came back, you were gone.”
Her brows lifted as their gazes connected. “Did you look for me?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, couldn’t say anything. Then finally, he admitted, “Of course.”