Page 15 of Wrapped Up with the Mountain Man
"Today?" She blinks, confused. "But it's Christmas morning."
"Emergency business deal. They need to leave in a few hours."
I watch the realization dawn on her face, see the exact moment she understands what this means for us. Her shoulders straighten, professional mask sliding into place.
"I should get dressed. Get the kids ready."
"Dove."
"It's fine, Tannon." But her voice is tight, controlled. "This is my job. This is my life."
She disappears back into the bedroom, and I stand there like an idiot, knowing I should fight for this. Knowing I should tell her I love her, that I want her to stay, that I'll follow her to Tokyo if that's what it takes.
But the words stick in my throat, caught behind a lifetime of loss and the terrible certainty that loving someone this much only leads to heartbreak.
Twenty minutes later, we're all dressed and packed. The magic of the past three days feels distant, like something that happened to other people.
The ride back in the snowcat is painfully quiet. Dove sits rigid in the passenger seat, staring out at the landscape like she's memorizing it. The kids chatter excitedly about planes and adventures, oblivious to the tension between the adults.
At the lodge, chaos greets us. The Ashfords are in full crisis mode, phones pressed to their ears, luggage scattered across the lobby. Mrs. Ashford spots us and makes a beeline over.
"Finally. Dove, we need to leave in ninety minutes. Have you packed the children's things?"
"I'll take care of it," Dove says quietly.
"Good. This Tokyo situation is critical. We could be there six months, possibly longer. Up to two years." Mrs. Ashford doesn't even glance at her children. "I trust you have everything you need?"
"Of course."
I watch this exchange, see how easily Dove slips back into her role as hired help, how efficiently she manages every detail while the parents focus on business. This is her life. This is what she's good at. What she's trained for.
What the hell was I thinking, believing she'd give this jet-setting life up for a mountain man who fixes generators for a living?
"Tannon!" Mia breaks away from where she's been sitting with Bentley and runs to me. "Are you coming on the airplane with us?"
The innocent question destroys me. "No, sweetheart. I need to stay here."
"But why? You could come visit! We could show you Tokyo!"
Over her head, I meet Dove's eyes. She's watching me, waiting to see what I'll say. Waiting to see if I'll fight for this.
"It's complicated," I say finally, hating myself for the coward's answer.
Something dies in Dove's expression. She nods once, understanding exactly what I'm not saying, then turns away to supervise the luggage loading.
The next hour passes in a blur of preparations and coordinated chaos. I stand on the sidelines, watching the woman I love efficiently manage an international move while I do nothing. Say nothing.
When the cars arrive to take them to the airport, Mia runs back to me one last time.
"I made you something," she says, pressing a small ornament into my hand. It's crafted from pine cones and ribbon – a lopsided angel. "For your Christmas tree. So you remember us."
"I'll treasure it always," I promise, my voice rough.
"Will you miss us?"
I kneel down to her level, pulling her into a fierce hug. "Every day."
She skips back to the car, apparently satisfied. Dove approaches slowly, her expression carefully neutral.
