After a few tight hugs and a teary goodbye on Claire’s part—along with plans to spend all of tomorrow together getting drunk and eating chocolate on the day that would’ve been Astrid’s wedding—Astrid and Iris left. For the rest of today, Claire knew she needed to take some time for her daughter and Josh.
After Josh cleaned the dried blood off his face in the bathroom, Claire and Ruby piled into his truck, and they drove out to Winter Lake. It was a pretty short trip—a quick stint on Interstate 5, followed by a lot of winding back roads flanked by leafy woods. They passed through Winter Lake’s downtown, a two-block affair complete with zero streetlights, one coffee shop, two hardware stores, and an amazing old-fashioned movie theater called the Andromeda. Despite that gem, the area made Bright Falls look like a booming metropolis. Finally, about ten minutes outside of downtown, they wound down a narrow road with little houses spaced at least a half mile apart, until Josh pulled into the drive of a log cabin that belonged on a postcard. It was bigger than she expected, with an A-frame roof, a wide front porch, siding the color of good whiskey, and a stone chimney that rose into the sky. Evergreens and pines surrounded the property, and Claire could see a tiny slice of silver behind the house—Winter Lake.
“Josh,” she said, her voice breathy. “This is . . . this is . . .”
“Amazing!” Ruby said. “It’s amazing!” Then their daughter flung open her door and ran up the front walk to the porch, peering through the windows before throwing herself into one of the rockers.
“It really is,” Claire said, smiling at Josh. “I can’t believe you did this.”
He winked at her. “Wait until you see the inside.”
They climbed out of the truck, and Josh unlocked the front door. Inside was . . . well, it took Claire’s breath away. The entire back wall was completely made of windows, letting in the sinking sun and filling the house with an amber-lavender glow. The kitchen, living room, and dining room were all one big space, with the same pine-knotted log walls as the exterior paired with modern appliances and design. The kitchen was bright and rustic at the same time, with cream-colored cabinets interspersed between the whiskey walls, an island that featured a farmhouse sink and lots of workspace, and butcher-block counters. Soft, dark brown leather couches filled the living room, along with a squashy hunter-green armchair that looked big enough to fit two adults. Throw pillows in navy and green filled the space, and the artwork on the walls showcased lakes and rivers and forests in the same colors. A black-and-white photograph of Ruby sat on the mantel, along with a photo of the three of them—Claire, Josh, and Ruby—back when Ruby was around nine.
“Can I see my room?” Ruby asked. “Please, can I?”
“You bet, kiddo,” Josh said, grinning. “I left it pretty blank, because I want you to pick out all your own stuff, okay? Maybe we can do that tomorrow?”
He eyed Claire and she nodded. Then Ruby took off down the hall off the living room.
“Can I have the room with the huge bed and the big bathroom?” she called.
“Not a chance,” Josh called back, laughing.
“Ugh, fine,” Ruby said, but Claire could tell she was teasing.
Claire continued to tour the space slowly, taking in all the little details. It was beautiful. There was no other word for it. And when Josh asked shyly what she thought, she told him so.
He beamed. “Come here. I want to show you the view from the back deck.” He took her hand and led her outside. The deck was simple, just two Adirondack chairs and a table between them, but the view . . .
“Wow,” she said, resting her forearms on the railing and watching the sun as it spun gold over the surface of Winter Lake.
“Pretty great location, huh?” he said as he came up next to her.
“I’ll say.” She turned to him, nudged his shoulder with hers. “I can’t believe you did this.”
He shrugged, eyes softly narrowed on the view from his very own porch. Then he dug into his back pocket and took out his wallet, extracting a small white card. “I did this too.”
Claire took the card, felt the thick paper between her fingers, the glossy, navy blue writing slightly raised.
JOSH FOSTER HOMES, LLC
Her head snapped up. “Wait . . . the projects you’ve been working on . . . They weren’t with Holden’s company?”
He shook his head, then paused. “Well, yeah, the first couple were. But the last two, the ones I’ve been doing up here? All mine.”
“You did it.”
“I did it.”
She smiled at him, her chest suddenly feeling tight and warm at the same time. “Josh, I’m . . . I’m sorry I didn’t—”
He shook his head, putting up a hand to cut her off. “No, don’t do that. I deserved your doubt. I know I did.”
She released a breath, and he turned to face her.
“But I’m here now,” he said. “I’m here for good. I’m not the same stupid kid I was when we had Ruby. Hell, I’m not the same stupid kid I was two years ago. I hope I can earn back your trust.”
Claire reached out and squeezed his hand. “I hope so too. This is a hell of a start.”
He laughed and squeezed back. “I want us to be a family.”
She nodded. “Me too.”
Then his face fell and his mouth dropped open a little. “But, I mean, not a family family.”
She tilted her head at him, frowning.
“I mean . . .” He pulled his fingers from hers and scrubbed a hand through his hair. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Claire could’ve sworn he was blushing. “I know sometimes when I’ve come back to town we’ve . . . well, we’ve . . .” He waved his hand between them.
“Screwed?” she asked. His eyes went so wide she laughed. “Oh, come on, Josh. We’re adults. We can call it what it was.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he laughed too. “Okay, yeah. But I don’t think we should anymore.”
She just lifted her brows at him.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t help either of us be a good parent to Ruby. And honestly, in the past, I wonder if us having sex was half the reason I bolted. Not that any of that was your fault. It was all me, but well, the sex confused me. Scared me. And I just want to be a good dad and a good co-parent for you.”
Claire nodded, honestly shocked at the wisdom he was spouting. “Yeah. All that makes sense.”
“And we don’t love each other like that. Not anymore.”
“No, we don’t.”