Luckily, I didn’t have to ponder long, because her SUV came tearing down the dirt drive next to my cabin. She threw on the brakes, and a dirt cloud puffed up around the tires. My heart lurched with anticipation. What the hell was I? Fifteen?
“Crap. She found me.”
“Hey,” I said softly.
He met my gaze, his nose and mouth all scrunched.
“Don’t swear.”
“Crap’s not a bad word,” he mumbled.
“Close enough. There’s always a better word to use, and I have a feeling your mom makes sure you’re educated enough to find them. Make her proud.”
His expression straightened, and he nodded solemnly.
“Besides, from the look on her face, you’re already in trouble,” I whispered.
“Colton Ryan MacKenzie!” Ella shouted as she strode toward us. “What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing out here?”
I stood, and Havoc immediately backed to my side.
“Yeah,” Colt agreed, standing on the other side of Havoc. “Middle name means I get grounded,” he finished in a whisper.
Ella walked the rest of the path to the dock, fury emanating from her in waves. But on top of that fury was an ice-cold fear. I felt it as surely as if she’d brought a snowstorm with her. Her blond hair was loosely woven into a side braid that fell just over her vest, and those jeans…
I snapped my gaze back to hers, which was currently boring a hole into Colt.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself? Taking your quad? Not telling anyone? Sitting here with a stranger? You scared me half to death!”
God, she was beautiful angry, which was about the only emotion I’d seen from her since I’d gotten here. Every time I’d bumped into her, she’d simply quirked up an eyebrow at me and said, “Mr. Gentry.” At least her anger was directed elsewhere at the moment.
“I have been background checked, security clearance and all,” I told her.
She shot me a glance that snapped my mouth shut and made me almost glad I’d never had a real mom. That look was the stuff of horror movies.
Colt’s eyes went impossibly wide, and he puckered his mouth to the side.
“Colt,” Ella warned, crossing her arms.
“He has a dog,” Colt said.
“And that gives you the right to not only intrude on a guest’s space but put yourself in danger? When I expressly told you not to bother Mr. Gentry?”
Ouch. Guess that explained why it had taken two weeks to meet Colt.
“He didn’t mind. He told me that she’s a job dog and she used to be a soldier. Just like him. You know, like Uncle Ryan.”
Ella’s face fell, a veil of sadness clouding her eyes. In that moment, I saw the weariness she’d written to me about. Sometimes it feels like the world is caving in, and I’m the only one in the center, my arms outstretched trying to brace it. And I’m just so tired, Chaos. I can’t help but wonder how long I can hold it before we’re all crushed under the weight. Letter number seventeen. I saw the woman who’d written the letters, who had captured me with nothing more than her words.
My fingers flexed with the need to pull her to me, to wrap my arms around her and tell her that I’d brace the world for as long as she needed. That was the entire reason I was here, to do whatever I could to ease her.
But I couldn’t say that, because while she may have let Chaos do that for her, may even have accepted his love, she wouldn’t let Beckett. And if she knew why I kept that secret…well, she’d probably bury me out there next to Ryan. God knew I’d already wished that fate upon myself a hundred times.
“And I’m sure he told you that he worked with Uncle Ryan?” Ella asked, her gaze flying to mine briefly with disapproval.
Ah, that was why she’d put me on the no-visit list.
Colt’s mouth dropped open, and he looked at me like I had some kind of superhero cape. “You did? You knew my uncle?”
“I did. He was the closest thing I had to a brother.” It was out before I could censor myself. “And no, I didn’t tell him, because I didn’t know if you’d want him to know,” I told Ella.
Her eyes slid shut for a second, and she sighed, so similar to Colt’s earlier motion, but not nearly as dramatic.
“I’m sorry for assuming,” she said softly. “And for his intrusion on your space. It won’t happen again.” That last part was aimed right at Colt.
He kicked slowly at the dirt beneath his feet.
“He didn’t bother me. In fact, it was an honor to meet you, Colt. If it’s okay with your mom, you’re always welcome to come visit Havoc. She really does love to play fetch, and I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m getting kind of old to be throwing for her all the time.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re not old.” He cocked his head to the side. “But until you know what you are, I’m not sure you’re a grown-up, either.”
“Colt!” Ella sputtered.
I laughed, and she looked at me like I had two heads.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I told him, since I’m retiring, I’m not really a soldier, and I’m not sure what that makes me at the moment besides a permanent vacationer.”
“I’m still surprised you’re getting out. In my experience, special ops guys serve until they kick or carry you out.”
“Well, I’m on terminal leave, so in forty-five days it will be official.”
Her guard dropped for a moment, her shoulders softening. She looked at me like it was the first time she’d really seen me, and it was there again, the thickening of the air between us, the connection we’d shared since our first letters.
But I knew what it was, and she didn’t.
“You’re getting out because…” Her head tilted, so much like Colt’s.
“You know why.”
She stepped toward me unconsciously, her eyes scanning mine, searching for something that I was desperate to hand over but couldn’t. “You said you left because your best friend died. You got out for Ryan,” she concluded.
“For you.” The moment it was out of my mouth I wanted to suck it back in, erase the last five seconds in a do-over. “Because of what he asked,” I tried to clarify, but the damage was done.
She retreated, her shoulders tense. Those walls came back up, cramming miles of distance in the few feet that separated us.
“I think we’ve bothered you enough today. Colt, say thank you to Mr. Gentry for not being a psycho kidnapper, and let’s go.”
“Thank you for not being a psycho kidnapper,” he repeated.
“Anytime, bud. Like I said, if it’s okay with your mom, you’re welcome to come see Havoc again. She likes you.” And it would probably do a little good to get him out of the house every now and then.
Hope lit up his face like Christmas morning. “Please, Mom? Please?”
“Seriously? You’re already grounded from your quad for this stunt, and now you’d like privileges to come spend time with a stranger?”
His gaze flickered sorrowfully to his quad, then back to Ella. “He’s not really a stranger, though. If Uncle Ryan was his brother, he’s kinda family.”
And there went my heart for the third flop.
Family was a word I didn’t use and didn’t have. Family meant commitment, people whom you depended on—who could depend on you. Family was an utterly foreign concept, even with the unique brotherhood within our unit.
“We’ll talk about this later, Colt,” Ella said, rubbing the soft skin between her eyes.
“Later you’re leaving!”
Well, if that didn’t abruptly change the mood.
“I’m not leaving until the day after tomorrow. Now, get in the car, Colt. We’ll—”
“Okay!” He gave Havoc another pat and then stomped off toward the truck.
“He seems a lot older than six.”
“Yeah. Until this year, the twins were only really ever around adults. A few kids here and there with guests, but they’re both basically six going on sixteen. I probably shouldn’t have sheltered them so much, but…” She shrugged.
I’m ridiculously overprotective of them, but I recognize it. Letter number one.
“They definitely give their teacher a run for her money. I’m sorry you had to see that.” She stared off at the island. “It’s been a rough few months…losing Ryan, and everything with Maisie…”
“How are her treatments?” I asked, stepping my toe into waters I had no right to.
Her head snapped toward me. “You know.”
“Ryan.” Mac and I had talked about it at length, so it wasn’t exactly a lie.
She shook her head in exasperation and started walking back to the truck.
“Ella,” I called after her, quickly catching up. After almost two weeks of running six miles in the morning, I was finally adjusted to the altitude. Not that we hadn’t been dropped into similar elevations in Afghanistan, but I’d been at sea level for two months before getting out here.
“You know what?” she fired back, spinning to face me.
“Whoa!” I gripped her shoulders to keep from smacking into her, then abruptly dropped my hands. That was twice I’d touched her since I’d been here, and the contact was too much and not enough.
“I hate that you know things about me. I hate that you probably knew Colt was my son, that you know about Maisie’s diagnosis. You’re a stranger who is privy to intimate details about my life because of my brother, and that’s not fair.”
“I can’t change that. I’m not sure I would even if I could, because that’s the reason I’m here.”
“The reason you’re here is buried out on that island!”
In so many ways.
“We can go round and round. But I’m not leaving. So I will make you this offer. You can ask me any questions you want”—I held up my finger when she opened her mouth, knowing she’d ask about Mac’s death again—“that I’m allowed to answer, and I’ll tell you anything I can about me. You’re right. It’s not fair that I know so much. It’s incredibly creepy for me to know about your kids, your life…you. But Mac loved you, and he talked about you all the time. You, them, this place was the home he so badly wanted to come back to, and when he talked about you, it was like he had this tiny moment of reprieve from the hell we were living. So, I’m incredibly sorry that your privacy has been violated. You have no clue how sorry I am, but I can’t go back in time and ask him not to overshare, and if I had that magical time button, I’d use it for something far better, like saving his life. Because he should be here. Not me. But I’m the one he sent, and I’m staying.” I clenched my jaw. What was it about this woman that killed whatever semblance of a filter I had? Whether it was reading her letters, or staring into her eyes, she had a power over me that was worse than a bottle of tequila for loosening my tongue. She made me want to tell her everything, and that was dangerous to both of us.
“If Ryan wanted so badly to be here, he could have gotten out when he was up for reenlistment. But he didn’t. Because guys like Ryan—like you—don’t stay home, don’t put down roots, don’t stay, period. I can accept that I’m your…mission, or whatever, for the time being, but don’t act like you’re not temporary.”
I fought every instinct in my body that screamed to declare differently, but I knew she wouldn’t believe me, and I’m not sure I would have, either. It was only a matter of time before she realized who I really was and what I’d done. And my feelings for her wouldn’t buffer that fallout. A nuclear shelter couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly after a few moments of silence passed between us. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, if you were really that close to Ryan. And you must have been to uproot your entire life to come here.”
“I thought I didn’t have roots,” I teased.
A tiny smile ghosted across her face, but it was sad. “Like I said, I’m sorry. But imagine if I showed up in…wherever it was you guys were, and I knew everything about you, and you didn’t know the first thing about me. Unsettling, right?”
A raw, grating pain scraped across me, because she did know everything about me. In a way. I’d left out the physical details of my life while I basically pulled my soul out of my body and put it on paper for her. She might not have known what I was, but she knew who I was, more than anyone else on the planet. I’d let her in and then shut myself out, and I missed her with a ferocity that was terrifying.
“Yeah, I can see how that would be a ten on the weird scale.”
“Thank you. And really, it’s an eleven.” She headed back up the path to her Tahoe, where Colt had the back hatch open and was waiting with his quad.
This apparently wasn’t the first time he’d been grounded from it if he was that aware of the routine.
“I got it, Colt,” I told him. Then I lifted it into the back of the SUV, thankful there was a rubber lining in the back. When I turned around, Ella was staring at me, her mouth slightly agape. Well, staring at my arms. I made a mental note to get a gym membership. I liked that look.
“Anything else?” I asked, shutting the hatch.
She shook her head quickly. “Nope. Nothing. Thanks for…you know…”
“Not being a psycho kidnapper?”
“Something like that.” A blush stole across her cheeks.
“I was serious about the background check. If you would feel more comfortable—”
“No, of course not. I don’t make a habit of background checking my guests, and I’m not going to start now.”
“You should,” I muttered. If I had been a psycho kidnapper, Colt would be dead. Actually, these woods were secluded enough that she could harbor a serial killer and never know.
She rolled her eyes at me and climbed up into the driver’s seat.
“Hey, Mr. Gentry?” Colt called from the back seat.
Ella rolled down the window, and I leaned in to see him strapped into a tall, thin car seat that sat beside an empty one.
“What’s up?”
“I’ve decided that, since you’re Uncle Ryan’s brother, that makes you family.” He said it with the seriousness of an adult.
“Have you?” My voice softened. The kid didn’t know what he was offering, or how much it meant to me, because he’d always had a family. It was simply a given. “Well, thank you.”
I met Ella’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and she let out a small sigh of defeat.
“And you’re not crazy,” he added. “So I guess you can stay.”
I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. This kid was amazing. “Thank you for your approval, Colt.”
“You’re welcome,” he said with a shrug.
I stepped back, and Ella closed her door, then leaned out her open window. “Don’t forget that there are meals in the main house. Ada said that she hasn’t seen you there, and she gets nosy.”
“Noted. I didn’t want to bring Havoc in with Maisie there, too.” I wasn’t an expert on kids with cancer, but I knew enough that she didn’t need me bringing extra dander in.
“Oh, that’s…really thoughtful of you. But you’re okay. After she went neutropenic the first time—that’s when—”
“Her white cells drop to where she’s susceptible to every infection known to man?” I finished.
“Yeah. How did you know that?”
“I read about neuroblastoma. A lot.”
“For Ryan?”
For you.
“Yeah, something like that.”
She ripped her gaze away from mine, like she felt our connection, too. But where I embraced the intensity, she apparently did not. “Right. Well, after that, I moved the kids out of the residence wing and into a cabin that we could keep—”
“Wrapped up
like a bubble,” Colt called out from the back seat.
“Pretty much,” Ella admitted with a shrug. “We’re actually your neighbors. If you walk about two hundred yards that way, you’ll find us.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Then I guess you will.”
They drove up the wide path next to my cabin. There must have been a small boat launch here or something to have a path like that cleared.
Havoc sat back on her haunches and cocked her head at me.
“I think that went better, don’t you?” I asked. Her tail thumped in agreement. “Yeah. Now let’s go find a job before Colt takes away our grown-up card.”
Three hours later I was officially the newest part-time member of Telluride Mountain Rescue. Scratch that. Havoc was. She was all the talent, anyway.
Chapter Eight
Ella
Letter #9
Ella,
First off, I’m speechless. I can’t possibly find adequate words to express my sadness at Maisie’s diagnosis, or my awe at how you’re handling it.
Jeff is an ass. Sorry, I’m sure he must have some redeeming qualities, because at one time you felt him worthy enough to give him your heart and even marry him, but he is. And I say is in the present tense on purpose, because he’s still making you feel like you’re not enough when you prove over and over again that you are.
You are enough, Ella. You’re more than enough. I’ve never met a woman who has your strength, your determination, your absolute loyalty to your kids. So I included a little something. Take it out when you need it to remind yourself that you can do this, because I know with absolute certainty that you can.
And yeah, I know you’re a good mom without ever having “met” you. Mostly it’s because I know what it’s like to have a bad one, and you are anything but that.
What do you need? I can’t bring dinner by, but I can order a mean pizza. Is there anything I can have shipped to you? I know that what you probably need is the support of people, and in that arena, my hands are tied, and I’m sorry. I know I can’t do much through these letters, but if I could, I’d be there, or I’d send your brother home to you.
The Last Letter Page 8
