“You might have gotten away with doing this kind of stuff back when you were flying for my dad, but it’s just you and me out here, and just me when you’re gone, and I don’t know who to call or how to check up on you, and I can’t be calling Agnes to track you down every time you don’t show up when you’re supposed to. I can’t be sitting here wondering if I should be worried, if I should be phoning someone, or doing something. Wondering if you’re sitting in a pile of metal somewhere in the snow!” The berating words tumble out of me. “You know better than to change plans without calling it in!” He said as much, that day we left the safety cabin and went on a run to find the missing hikers. He knew my father and Agnes would be unhappy with him, but he did it anyway.

Now, as the person sitting by the phone, waiting for news from him—as the only person keeping track of his comings and goings—I appreciate what an asshole he is when he does it.

Jonah grits his jaw, and I hold my breath, expecting him to double down on why he’s right and I’m wrong. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”

His words instantly deflate some of my anger. An unexpected wave of relief washes over me as he drops into the other desk chair, wheeling closer to me. “Look at me, Calla.”

I meet his sincere light blue eyes.

“I’m fine—”

“That’s not the point.”

“I know it’s not.” He collects my hands in his. “Bo and I got to talking. He runs a hiking expedition company. He wanted to know if I’d be interested in doing some runs for him this summer, getting people in and out of Ruth Glacier. His usual pilot is out with health problems and he heard I was doin’ my own thing. We go way back.”

“You go ‘way back’ with half of Alaska,” I mutter.

“What can I say? I got excited. Bo’s a great guy and he’s nearby. It’s income for the summer.” He sighs. “I’ve been stressing about having enough business to bring in decent money.”

“Really?” He hasn’t mentioned it once, hasn’t even hinted. “But, Jonah, you’re going to do fine. Everyone loves you.”

“They can love me all they want. Until we see steady work coming in, it doesn’t mean anything. Keepin’ these planes in the air is expensive, and I feel like I’ve been burning through savings faster than I expected to.”

“Well, yeah. We just bought this house.”

“I know. And I know there are a lot of expenses that come with that—new windows, a better bathroom, furniture. It’s all money. And now there’s a ton of things I have to worry about with the company that I didn’t have to while I was working for Wren. I mean, I worried, but none of it was ever coming out of my pocket. It’s just … a lot for me to get used to, and sometimes I wonder if I dragged you all the way out here to watch me fail.”

I notice how his shoulders sag with those frank words—either from the relief of finally admitting his worries to me, or from the weight of them. Either way, it’s the first time he’s openly wavered about The Yeti or about buying Phil’s place. It’s the first time he’s shown anything other than steadfast confidence in his plan.

He bows his head. “Anyway, I got so wrapped up in Bo and the opportunity, I lost track of time. That was shitty of me and I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you, and I’ll try my best not to do it again.”

Silence lingers in our tiny office with a prime view of the frozen lake and the mountain range beyond as I decide what to say, how to appease his worries. Anxious Jonah leaves me disconcerted. He’s the steady, level-headed one in this relationship.

“First of all, you didn’t drag me out here. I came because I wanted to. And if The Yeti fails, then we fail, because we’re in this together. You and me. But we’re not going to fail.” I give his hands a squeeze. “Remember, I owe you half of what this place costs. You’ll see that money soon. And when my inheritance comes in, I can cover us for—”

“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “I told you already, that’s your money. Wren didn’t leave it for you to support my ass. Besides, he’s already left me more than enough.”

I give him a flat look. “You’re being pigheaded.”

“Maybe, but I don’t care. I need to know that I can support us. That’s important to me. If I can’t make this work with what Wren gave me, then maybe I shouldn’t be doin’ it.” He picks up a pen and then tosses it.

“You should be doing it.” I believe that to my core. I’ve seen Jonah at Wild, and out flying around Alaska, helping people. If Jonah belongs anywhere, it’s in the air.

But I also know that part of this is about ingrained male pride that makes Jonah who he is. Pointing out that I could probably support us for decades on what my father left me won’t aid my cause here.

I reach for a pad and pen. “What’s Bo’s company’s name?”

“Alaska Expeditions.” He pauses. “Why?”

I jot it down. “I’m going to have to call him and get all his information, so we can properly invoice him. And I also need information about this doctor from Unalakleet so I can add it to the books. You can’t just come in and drop wads of cash on my desk at the end of the day. That’s not how you run a legitimate business.”

Jonah lays his hand over mine, stalling my scribbles. “I’m sorry.”

I swallow the last of my anger. “You’re going to do fine, Jonah. You’re not going to fail. I don’t think you’re capable of that.”

He brushes strands of hair off my forehead. “And you can’t live every day thinking I’m going to crash, Calla. It’ll drive you crazy.”

“I know.” It’s what drove my mother crazy, and a big part of what made her run in the end. “I guess it’ll take time, to get used to this.”

“I didn’t help today, did I?”

I shoot him a glare, but there’s no heat behind it.

He chuckles as he presses a kiss against my lips. “Any more animals hunt you down after we talked?”

“Still not funny,” I warn. “By the way, Zeke got out. Bandit must have figured out how to unfasten the latch.”

He shakes his head. “The little shit. I’ll have to add something to stop him.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Tim and Sid, my mom and Simon’s resident raccoons, have gotten into the secured compost bins too many times for me to believe there’s anything that can keep a determined raccoon out. Or, in this case, in.

“So …” Jonah’s hands smooth over my thighs with affection. “How did you escape today’s goat attack? It must have been a harrowing ordeal?”

I’m smiling now. “Shut up.”

He pulls me onto his lap. “You know, I’m not used to being lectured by anyone, especially not a Fletcher.” His lips are cool as they graze my collarbone, sending shivers through my body. “Coming from you, it’s kind of hot.”

I revel in the feel of Jonah’s arms around me, my anger with him having vanished in mere minutes, as if it never existed. How ironic it is that there used to be a time when not wanting to throttle Jonah felt foreign. Now, holding even a shred of animosity toward him throws my entire world off-kilter.