Page 37 of Lone Wolf in Lights
“Very tragic,” Willow said.
He took a deep breath, sliding his arm behind Willow on the bench. “Her death was violent,” Eli confessed, the admission feeling like shards of glass scraping his throat. “Senseless. And none of us knew, not really knew, how bad things were for her with her boyfriend.”
Willow’s voice trembled with empathy. “I’m so sorry, Eli.” She placed her mitt-covered hand on his leg.
He managed a half smile that felt more like a grimace. “I found out when I was miles away at a rodeo. A call from my mom in the middle of the night. I’d never heard a cry so gut-wrenching. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sound.”
The memory surged through him, vivid and relentless, the helplessness he’d felt then mirrored now in the tightness of his chest.
“I won’t ever understand why Miranda didn’t come to me,” he continued, his gaze fixed on the skaters. “She always put on such a strong front. It blindsided us all when we learned the truth—the horrifying texts he’d sent, the damage to their house, the fear she masked with smiles.”
“Abuse thrives in silence,” Willow whispered, her voice carrying a depth of understanding that warmed him.
Eli gave a bitter laugh. “Silence can kill.” He lifted his cup for another sip and continued, “I thought rodeo was the life. Going from town to town, always chasing that next win.” His eyes briefly met Willow’s, filled with understanding. “But while I was out there, chasing fame, my baby sister...was fighting for her life, and I didn’t even notice.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Willow countered. “Believe me, I’ve been Miranda, and the shame in the abuse, it’s all so easy to hide.”
“Doesn’t stop the guilt,” Eli confessed, the words easily tumbling out now. “I should’ve been there, should’ve seen the signs.”
Willow paused for a moment, then said softly, “Your sister probably didn’t want to burden you, especially since you were living out your dream.”
“I imagine that you’re right,” he muttered. “My mother took it very hard. After Miranda passed...she just faded away. The doctors said it was a heart attack, but I could see the grief draining her from the inside out.”
“That’s just so sad,” Willow whispered.
He nodded in agreement.
Time slowed as Willow removed her mitt and lifted her hand to his cheek. In her touch, Eli found something he hadn’t felt in a very long time—warm affection.
“Thank you for sharing all that with me,” she said, her gaze never leaving his.
“Only seemed right,” he admitted, the raw truth of his own words surprising him. “You’ve been brave enough to share your story. I want you to know mine—all of it.”
He had met many individuals throughout his lifetime, but none quite like her. She possessed a unique combination of sweetness and strength that drew him in inexplicably. It felt as though the universe itself was guiding him toward her, perhaps even his own sister and mother were nudging him in her direction. With her, he felt at ease and protected, as if she were his safe place to land and he was her shield against the world.
He exhaled a low, slow breath. “Would you like to go skating?” he asked.
She nodded eagerly in response, but it was the sweetness shining in her eyes that truly captured his attention as they made their way to the rental booth together.
A smile that he knew he would never forget.
The frosty air nipped at Willow’s cheeks as she stepped off the ice, her skates dangling from her fingers. Eli was beside her, his breath visible in the cold night. Together, they left the laughter and music of the skating rink behind, their boots crunching on the snow-covered path that wound through the quiet park.
“Thanks for tonight,” she said, smiling up at him. “I haven’t been skating in years.”
“I enjoyed myself too.” His voice was a low rumble. He glanced at her with a look that sent a shiver down her spine—not from the cold, but from the heat that always seemed to simmer between them. “Up for a drink at my place?” he asked.
“Definitely,” she said.
They reached his truck, and the ride back to his house was as comfortable as the drive there.
Pulling up to the log house, Willow felt a sense of warmth bubble inside her as she exited the truck. It wasn’t grand or modern, but it was inviting, with its cozy wraparound porch and the faint glow of light seeping through the curtains.
“Sorry, I don’t have much in terms of fancy cocktails or drinks,” Eli said as he unlocked the front door.
“Actually,” Willow began, following him inside, “do you have any whiskey? My dad and I always share one on ice. It’s kind of our thing.” She shed her jacket, revealing the soft sweater that hugged her curves beneath.
“Whiskey, I can do.” A grin tugged at the corner of Eli’s mouth.
