Page 36

Finn

I wake with a start, the icy cold seeping into my bones despite the relative warmth of my makeshift snow tunnel. The Alaskan storm has passed, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake. The silence is deafening, broken only by the distant, muffled sound of voices calling my name.

“Finn! Finn!”

I strain to hear, my breath visible in the frigid air, heart pounding in my chest. The desperation in the voice propels me into action.

I scramble to dig myself out, my fingers numb and clumsy as they claw at the snow.

The light outside grows brighter as I break through the surface, the snow blinding me momentarily.

Blinking against the intense glare of the morning sun reflecting off the snow, I finally pull myself up and out of the tunnel.

The world is a pristine, white wilderness, the snow glistening under the clear blue sky.

And then, through the blinding brightness, I see him.

Wyatt. His face is a beacon of hope, relief washing over me like a tidal wave.

“Wyatt!” I shout, my voice cracking with emotion. I run to him, my heart soaring with joy but also gratitude for him coming back for me. I throw my arms around him, pulling him close, needing to feel his warmth, his solidity.

For a moment, he holds me, but then he stiffens.

Just as our lips are about to meet, he pulls away, the warmth of the previous night’s embrace replaced by an icy coldness.

His eyes avoid mine, his jaw set in a hard line.

Any semblance of what we shared in the cave, vanishing as if a shadow against the sun.

“Wyatt?” I whisper, confusion and hurt lacing my voice. The elation of knowing he’s safe crashes into a wave of uncertainty and fear. “What’s wrong?” What could possibly have happened?

He steps back, creating a distance that feels like a chasm.

“Nothing,” he mutters, but his tone is flat, devoid of the warmth and affection we shared last night in the cave.

His simple untruth sits in my heart and mind like a heavy lump of rock.

Had I eaten breakfast, I would vomit, right here and now.

Then before I can press him further, a movement in the snow catches my eye.

Emerging from the blinding whiteness is a figure I hoped never to see again.

Mr. Oliver, the banker. His presence is a dark shadow against the pristine landscape, a specter of my deepest fears and anxieties.

All the things I’ve been hiding and trying to avoid since I arrived here at The Wildwood.

He got me over a barrel, threatening to take away the B&B since my father died, and I still don’t know where I’m going to get the money to keep it.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and anxiety.

He smiles, a thin, cruel smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We need to talk, Finn,” he says, his tone dripping with menace. “Back at the lodge. It’s time for things to move forward.”

How can he push the time up so much? He hasn’t given us time to come up with the funds. Damn, him and the fine print of the contract. I can’t let him do this to me… to us.

My stomach knots, a cold dread settling over me.

I glance at Wyatt, whose face is set in a hard, unreadable expression.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut.

Wyatt already knew about the possibility of Mr. Oliver coming to collect on the loan, but it’s clear neither of us expected it to happen this fast. As if the reality isn’t real somehow.

The look in his eyes is one of betrayal.

My heart aches and my stomach sours as I see how much I’ve hurt him through my lies of omission.

The walk back to the lodge is a silent, heavy trudge through the snow.

Each step feels like a struggle, the weight of my fears pressing down on me.

The beautiful white landscape, usually a source of solace and peace, now feels like a prison, closing in on me from all sides.

Wyatt walks beside me, but his silence is a palpable wall between us, a barrier I can’t seem to breach.

The distance between us, both physical and emotional, feels insurmountable.

I glance at him, hoping for a sign, a look, anything that might bridge the gap. “Wyatt, please,” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the crunching snow. “We need to talk. What happened back there? Why are you so distant?” I need to hear him say it.

He doesn’t look at me. His gaze is fixed ahead, eyes hard and unreadable. “Not now, Finn,” he says tersely. “We have bigger problems to deal with. Then we talk about us.”

His words cut deeper than the cold. I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing myself to keep walking. Behind us, the banker follows a few paces back, his presence a constant reminder of the doom hanging over my head. Each step feels like walking towards my own execution.

As we crest a small rise, the lodge comes into view.

Its familiar silhouette is framed against the snowy backdrop, usually a welcoming sight, but now it feels like the gallows.

The once comforting image of home is tainted by the banker’s looming threat.

All of this beauty can, in one day, be taken away.

Everyone who relies upon it will lose everything, their work, their home.

When we reach the lodge, the front door swings open, and I see Miranda and Doris. They’re busy cleaning and whispering to each other. As we approach, they stop and stare, their eyes wide with fear and concern. Their expressions are a mirror of the turmoil churning inside me.

I force a smile, trying to mask my anxiety. “Hey, Miranda. Doris. Everything okay?”

Miranda’s hands tremble as she clutches a dust cloth, and Doris’s face is pale, her eyes darting nervously between Wyatt and me.

She presses the cloth to her lips and says, “I’m so glad you’re okay.

” She then exchanges a glance with Doris, and then, without a word, they hurry away, disappearing down the hallway.

Tears glisten in Miranda’s eyes as she turns her back, and the sight twists my heart.

They know about the fate of Wildwood.

I step inside, and the physical warmth of the lodge envelops me, but it does nothing to thaw the icy dread in my chest. The lodge, once a haven filled with laughter and the comforting hum of guests and workers-turned-family, now feels cold and desolate, its temperature a stark contrast to the tension hanging in the air.

I turn to Wyatt, desperation clawing at me. “Wyatt, please. We need to talk. I need to understand what’s going on between us. Not with the bank, but between us.”

He finally meets my gaze, but his eyes are distant, guarded. “Finn, I just... I can’t deal with this right now. We need to figure out what to do about the banker. That’s the priority.”

His words sting, and I feel a fresh wave of despair. “But Wyatt, two nights ago... What we shared...” My words, are whispered to keep Mr. Oliver from hearing our conversation. I can’t give him the satisfaction of watching my personal life being destroyed as well.

He looks away, jaw tight. “That… night was then. This is now. Lord knows I’ve made my fair share of mistakes.”

Mistakes? My heart pounds, threatening to rip open my chest. Maybe it would be for the best if I wasn’t here, with him, anymore.

Tears threaten to trail down my face as we look into each other’s eyes.

For the briefest of moments, I see words forming on his lips.

He’s about to speak. Will he tell me I am forgiven?

Then he turns away.

His dismissal hits me like a physical blow, and I feel my knees weaken.

I look away, trying to gather myself. The lodge, filled with the familiar smells of wood and cooking, now feels like a stranger’s home.

The cheerful decorations, the photographs of happier times, all seem like mocking reminders of what I stand to lose. What I could have had.

I hear the sound of footsteps and turn to see the banker standing in the doorway, his expression smug. “Well, Finn,” he says, his voice dripping with condescension. “Shall we get this over with?”

I clench my fists, my anger and fear mingling into a volatile mix. “What do you want?” I snap, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

“You know what I want,” he replies smoothly, stepping inside. “The time has come for you to pay up, or I take Wildwood. It’s as simple as that.”

I clench my fists, anger boiling beneath the surface. “Let’s talk,” I say to the banker, my voice low and firm.

Wyatt steps forward, his expression determined. “I’m coming with you.”

I turn to him, my voice hard even though it pains me inside.

“No, Wyatt. Stay here or find something to do.” His face falls, and I see the hurt flash in his eyes, but I have to do this alone.

If Wyatt isn’t giving me a sign of forgiveness, then I’m on my own.

Just as the universe has intended all along.

Clearly, I was never meant to find my forever person.

The one who I can rely on through thick and thin.

To cling to when things are tough, to share with when things are bountiful.

I look back at Wyatt one more time, the determination in his eyes was not the expression I hoped to see. Kindness, forgiveness, empathy, something with love attached would have been my preference. My stomach does a summersault and I push back my rising emotions the best I can.

Like I always do.

Swallowing hard, I gesture for the banker to follow me.

We move away from the main lobby, finding a secluded spot where we can argue without drawing attention.

The dry wood floorboards squeak beneath the wet soles of my boots.

As soon as we are out of earshot, I turn to him, my voice low and seething with anger.

“What the hell do you want, really? I thought we had a few more days to come up with the money?”

The banker, smug and composed, leans against the large wooden beams that form the interior walls of the lodge. “I’ve already told you, Finn. The time has come for you to pay up or lose Wildwood. It’s quite simple.”

“We had a deal and a timeframe. What the fuck gives you the right to change it?”

His eyes grow dark and sinister. “I found a buyer. Someone who’s going to make me a lot of money. He doesn’t take no for an answer and he wants it now.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he wants,” I say with a shrug. Taking a step closer, fists still clenched, I get in his face. “You think you can just come here and bully me into giving up my family’s legacy? You must be delusional.”

He smirks, a cold, calculated expression. “You don’t understand the power I have, Finn. I have ways to get what I want. Ways to make you give up without a fight.”

I feel a surge of defiance. “I’ve never backed down from a fight in my life, and I’m not about to start now. Especially not with someone as pathetic as you.”

His eyes narrow, the smirk fading. “Pathetic? You think I’m pathetic?

I’ve seen tougher men than you crumble under pressure.

You don’t know who you’re fucking with here.

The lengths at which my buyer will go to get what he wants.

It’s not me you should be worried about.

” He glares at me with all the hate I imagine exists in the world. “You’re out of your depth, boy.”

“Don’t call me boy,” I snap, stepping even closer, our faces inches apart. “You might have money and power, but you don’t have the right to take what’s mine. My father built Wildwood with his own hands. It’s more than just a building, it’s our home.”

“Your sentimental attachment means nothing to me,” he says coldly. “Business is business. You either pay what you owe or lose everything.”

I laugh bitterly. “You think I don’t know that? But you don’t scare me. You can try all you want, but I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

“You’re making a mistake,” he warns. “I have connections, ways to make your life miserable. If you think this is bad, just wait. I can apply pressure in places you haven’t even thought of.”

“Go ahead and try,” I challenge, my voice steady. “And tell your buyer he can go fuck himself.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes glinting with anger. “You’re a fool, Finn. This isn’t a game. You think you can win, but you’re alone in this.”

“Alone?” I shake my head. “I’ve got people who believe in me. Friends, family. You might be able to buy a lot of things, but loyalty isn’t one of them.” God, I hope Wyatt isn’t lost to me forever. I’m going to need his help if we are to save this place.

For a moment, he looks taken aback, but he quickly recovers. “We’ll see about that. The clock is ticking, Finn. You have until the end of the week to come up with the money, or Wildwood is mine.”

He turns to leave, but I call after him. “This isn’t over. I’ll find a way to save my home. You haven’t won yet.”

Without another word, he walks away, his figure disappearing out the back door and into the snowy landscape.

I stand there, breathing heavily, the cold air stinging my lungs as it rushes into the building.

The confrontation leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but a fire burns within me. I won’t let him take everything I have.

But who is this mysterious buyer and why does he want Wildwood so badly? Is there something about this place that I don’t know? That’s when I think about my dad’s journal entries. There were quite a few left to read and my heart raced with hope.

As I make my way back to the main entrance to the lodge, I can see Wyatt standing by the door, watching me.

The hurt in his eyes is still there, but now it’s mixed with a glimmer of hope.

We lock eyes, and I know that despite everything, I have to keep fighting.

For my family, for my home, and for the chance to make things right with Wyatt.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. The fight is far from over, and the future is uncertain, but I know one thing for sure: I won’t give up. Not now, not ever.

If I can somehow convince Wyatt to forgive me, with him by my side, even if he’s distant for now, I believe we can face whatever comes next.

His father and mine were partners for life.

They were able to accomplish anything together.

I know he and I can do the same. We’ll find a way to save The Wildwood and keep our family together.

As I stand there in the warmth of the lodge, I vow to fight with everything I have.

For my father’s legacy, for the people I love, and for the future we deserve.

I nod to him and break our gaze. I have some reading to get to.