She’d carried her belongings to the Silver Angel, straightened the interior of the cab and retrieved her clipboard, fastening it to its holder on the dash. As she worked in the tilted cab, a speck of disappointment inched its way into her thoughts, but she dusted it away. No use making herself miserable. No use dragging the whole thing out. She was an adult and she’d entered into a brief friendship with Charlie knowing exactly what she was doing, and choosing to do it because she wanted to. The feelings that had crept in, feelings for Meredith, feelings for Charlie...that part had been unintentional and not of her own choice. But she’d known all along that she’d be leaving, and she was prepared for it when the rumble of a diesel engine reached her. In the distance, the enormous rig barreled down the highway. Charlie had stayed with Meredith, so she trudged back to the house through the path in the snow, seeing tracks everywhere, prints of deer and rabbits, prints they’d made themselves when they’d traveled to the truck and across the yard on their search for a Christmas tree.
