I lower my belly to the snow, the chill seeping through my camo, and I throw her a warning look.
A little snarl curls her lips, but she lies down next to me, training her eyes on the buck through the foliage.
Her white hat covers the tips of her ears, but the lobes are red, as is the tip of her nose. She wears two low pigtails, and I can see her eyes glistening with tears.
Jesus Christ.
“You wanna know what that meat you buy nicely packaged in the grocery store went through before it came there?” I growl at her. “These animals have a hell of a lot better life than the meat you buy, girl, so wise up and feed your goddamn family.”
Her chin trembles as she stares at the animal, her jaw flexing. “I hate you.”
“Not as much as you’ll love food in your belly.”
She brings up the weapon, propping her elbows under her and looking through the line of sight.
She squeezes the trigger, small sobs escaping her.
She’s going to lose it. She’ll miss, because she can’t see through her tears, and the deer will bolt.
‘Tiernan,” I say. “Look at me.”
The cloudless blue sky and the smell of ice surrounds us, but even now, looking at her innocent face and perfect lips, I feel a light sweat cool my pores.
“Baby, look at me,” I tell her again softly.
She turns her head, her gray pools meeting mine.
I wipe a tear from her cheek. “If something happens to me—or the boys—I need to know you can survive up here.” I speak softly, swiping my thumb under her eye to catch another tear before it falls. “What we have in the pantry will only last so long. I need to teach you this, okay?”
She trembles but nods, looking so sweet and vulnerable. God, my heart aches.
I lean in, placing a kiss on her temple. “The thought of you unprotected kills me. Please do this.”
She swallows and takes a deep breath, calming her tears and breathing before lining up her sight again.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I watch her, not the buck, and I’m mesmerized. So innocent and pure. Untouched and just coming alive for the first time. Something so big is just contained under her surface, and I want to feel it all come apart in my arms. Tiernan is a pulse in the house.
She’s the pulse.
Maybe I was jealous that night I found Noah on top of her and Kaleb looking at her like a starved animal. Or maybe I was afraid of what this would do to her. We all wanted her before the snow, and now she’s a constant reminder that she is all we have to look at the whole winter. I worry that the line I walk on, whether or not we really need to go without something pretty all winter, is starting to blur. If it’s hard now, how hard will it be to resist her as the cold, dark, and lonely months wear on?
But really, I think what it ultimately comes down to is that I want her.
And I shouldn’t.
A shot pierces the air, and I blink, coming back to reality. She silently sobs as her head falls and her eyes close, and I grab my binoculars, searching the terrain for the deer.
“She got it!” Noah shouts.
Her breathing shakes as she quietly cries, and I know she’s done for the day. She won’t want to see it.
“Go get it,” I tell them. “Take it home. We’ll follow.”
The boys walk past, the snow crunching under their boots, and my body burns with the cold seeping through to my skin.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” she says, head bowed and staring at the ground.
“You didn’t.”
She jerks her head toward me, her fierce eyes piercing me. “I did it, because I didn’t want to disappoint you,” she explains. “Why do I care about pleasing you? I don’t want to please you.”
She looks away again, pulling off her hat and looking disgusted with herself.
Loose strands of her hair fall in her eyes, and I want to push them away.
My voice sounds strangled as I whisper. “Everything you do pleases me.”
I could blame her all I want. Her beauty, her scent, her laughter and fight, her eyes when she smiles and how she makes us a little happier, the way even a garbage bag would look good on her as she walks around my house, but honestly, it’s just what I said. Every day I’m losing the will to resist and hating myself for it.
And hating her more for being something I can’t have.
“It’ll be easier next time,” I tell her.
“There won’t be a next time.”
“Not unless you want to eat.”
She launches up and swings her fist, slamming me in the jaw as she growls. Pain shoots through my face, and the next thing I know, she’s pounding on me as she cries.