by Liz Isaacson
“Yeah, well, Patsy needs the help.”
“I’m sure she does,” Gray said.
“I’m hanging up,” Cy said. He hadn’t spent much time with his brothers since Christmas, for exactly this reason. He hadn’t made fun of Gray or questioned his long-distance relationship with Elise. He’d welcomed Wes to California with open arms when he’d broken up with Bree and fled the state of Wyoming. He hadn’t done anything but support Colton when he met Annie, fell in love, and got engaged, all within the space of six weeks.
He could date Patsy without their sly comments and side glances.
“Cy,” Gray said. “Don’t hang up.”
“Take me off speaker,” Cy said.
“You’re off,” Gray said. “I’m sorry. I just thought you were coming in. Elise and I have gifts for you, and we really appreciate you taking care of our house. It snowed a lot while we were gone.”
“Yeah,” Cy said, because he had taken good care of Gray’s house. “And you didn’t need to get me any gifts.”
“We know you love the beach, and we’re grateful for your help.” Gray cleared his throat. “Hunter said you took him to the arcade a couple of times, and we appreciate that too.”
“Yeah, sure,” Cy said. “Hunter’s my favorite human on the whole earth.”
Gray chuckled, and that broke the tension between them. “I’m sorry I said anything about Patsy,” Gray said. “I think it’s great you’re pursuing her. You were…a little hung up on Mikaela for a while.”
“Yeah,” Cy said, looking out the window. When he’d moved here, he hadn’t been over her. In fact, it wasn’t until after Gray’s wedding when he’d passed Grams to Patsy that he’d seen her. Really seen her. And he’d finally been able to look past Mikaela.
“Anyway, I’ll bring your gifts to dinner tonight. You’ll be there, right?”
“Of course,” Cy said. “You’re taking my favorite person away from me, so I have to be there to say good-bye.”
Gray chuckled, and the call ended. Cy tapped the button on the screen again and said, “Call Patsy Foxhill.”
A few moments later, the call connected, and Patsy picked up with, “Hey, Cy. Are you on your way up?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “And I was wondering how you felt about dinner tonight?”
“I’m always up to go to dinner.”
“It’s at my brother’s house,” he said. “With all my brothers that live here—and their wives. And us. And Hunter.” Cy pulled in a slow breath so she wouldn’t hear it and held it.
“So your three married brothers, us, and Hunter.”
“Yes.”
“Boy, you don’t pull punches.”
“All three of the women there are your friends,” he pointed out. “And you know, I don’t think I mentioned this the other night, but I’m not in a rush to get married again.”
“You’re not?”
“Not particularly,” he said, though he had to force a bit of casualness into his tone. “I want to make sure I do things right this time.”
A couple of beats passed in silence. “Okay,” Patsy said. “I’ll go to dinner with you tonight.”
“Here we go,” Cy said, flipping the rubber band on his wrist over and over again and not feeling a thing. He’d taken the last spot in Wes’s driveway, which meant they were the last to arrive.
“Cy.” Patsy reached over and took his hand away from his wrist. “Stop it. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
He turned away from the squares of yellow light, and they stayed in his eyes as he blinked. He looked at Patsy, and she wore concern on her face. “What?”
“You didn’t even know you were flipping that band,” she said. “It sounded painful to me.”
Cy looked at his left wrist, and it suddenly sent pain shooting up his arm. “Sorry.”
“Hey, look at me,” she said.
He did, and once again, so much came into focus for him. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“You tell me,” she said. “I’ll do whatever, but I think it’ll be fine once we get in there. You’ll feed off the energy, and you’ll transform into the fun version of yourself.”
Frustration and embarrassment spiraled together, and Cy looked away from her again. “I’m sorry, Patsy.”
“For what?”
“For having to wear a rubber band.”
“Tell me about it,” she said. “You haven’t said much of it.”
“You said your brother wore one.”
“To focus during tests and stuff,” Patsy said. “I think yours is for something else.”
“It’s sometimes a habit,” he admitted. “Sometimes it’s to help me release the anxiety building up inside me. Sometimes it helps me focus, like your brother.”
“So tonight, it was for anxiety.”
“I have a lot of anxiety,” he admitted to the darkness beyond his window. “Especially in the winter. I hate being cooped up inside all the time, and I hate waking up in the dark, and I hate not being able to ride my motorcycle.”
“That’s why you lived in California.”
“Things will definitely be harder here,” he said. New doubts flew through his mind. What had he been thinking, buying twenty acres here and starting to build a new shop? He should’ve stuck to the coasts, where he could ride his motorcycle year-round and listen to the waves roll ashore every day if he needed to.
“Let’s go in,” he said. “Wes might not be a CEO anymore, but he likes to start things on time.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” Cy said, opening his door. He got out of the truck, and he slipped the rubber band off his wrist. He stretched it between two fingers and shot it out into the darkness. He did not need that in his life tonight.
He met Patsy at the front of the truck and swept his arm around her waist. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess,” she said.
“Mm, I kind of am.” He leaned down, and they breathed in together before Cy pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back, and he kept the kiss sweet because he stood in his brother’s driveway, and he honestly couldn’t add any more emotion to what he already had streaming through him.
“A beautiful mess,” Patsy whispered when he finally pulled away.
Cy smiled gently, feeling bled out now. They went up to the front door, and he knocked as he entered. Chatter came from the kitchen in the corner of the house, and since Wes had a huge, open-concept house, Cy could see everyone mingling as Bree and Annie worked in the kitchen.
Hunter held his cousin, and Colton was the first to glance toward Cy and Patsy. He nodded, and Wes turned. Cy kept Patsy’s hand in his, because he wasn’t afraid to show his brothers who he was dating.
“Hey, brother.” Wes drew Cy away from Patsy and hugged him. “Patsy.” He hugged her too, and Cy watched her eyes widen in surprise. He smiled at her, and hugged Colton.
“How are things now that the wedding is done?”
“Oh, my word,” Colton said. “So much better.” He smiled and nodded toward the kitchen. “There’s soda over there.”
“You’re drinking soda?” he asked. “Doesn’t that make running harder?”
“I’m not the one training for the Boston Marathon,” Colton said, lifting his can to his lips. “You should see Gray.” He lowered his voice as he glanced over to where Gray stood with Hunter and Elise. “He was inspecting every single thing in the kitchen.”
“It was annoying,” Wes added, his voice also low. “I mean, I get it. But come on. If what you eat is that big of a deal, bring your own dinner.”
“If he did that,” Cy said. “You’d be annoyed by that too.”
Colton and Wes both looked at him, and Cy chuckled. “You know I’m right. You’d be all, ‘we invite him to dinner, and he brings his own food? Come on.’” He looked back and forth between Wes and Colton. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Colton just took another drink of his soda, and Wes glared into the kitchen. “You
’re not wrong,” he finally said. “I guess I shouldn’t be annoyed.”
“Boston’s in four months,” Cy said. “Let’s try not to kill him between now and then, and he’ll ease up once he races.”
“Hopefully,” Colton said. “Otherwise….” He crunched his now-empty can in his fist, which caused Cy to burst out laughing.
He realized that Patsy had left him with his brothers and joined Elise and Gray. In fact, he watched as Hunter passed baby Michael to her, and he sure didn’t miss the new light that filled her face as she gazed at the infant.
Cy fell a little bit more in love with her in that moment, because he’d always wanted kids, and by the look on her face, so did Patsy.
She lifted her eyes, and they came straight to his. They exchanged a smile that said so much without a single word, and he ducked his head.
“Oh, my heck,” Colton said. “You’re falling for her already.”
“Maybe,” Cy whispered. “Can you not do this right now?”
“Yeah, leave him alone,” Wes said. “We’re lucky he came in at all.” He offered his fist for Cy to bump, which he did. “Glad you did, brother. We’re not complete without you.” He nodded and walked toward Gray and the others.
Cy stood next to Colton, who said, “I guess I can’t talk. I got engaged only a couple of months after being stood up on my own wedding day.”
“Yeah,” Cy said. “You have no room to say anything.” He looked away from Patsy and that baby, and met his brother’s eyes. They both laughed, and finally, the rest of Cy’s anxiety went with the sound.
He wondered, though, if he was being fair to Patsy. He knew he was a mess, and maybe he shouldn’t saddle someone else with his mental illness and anxiety. That had been one of his biggest regrets with his first wife. He hadn’t been honest with her about his health.
So go get help.
The words were right there inside his mind, and this time, they were in his own voice and not Ames’s.
And be honest with Patsy.
Chapter Fourteen
Patsy pulled up to the farmhouse where she’d spent her childhood, and instead of getting out of the car immediately, she reached for the shoebox on the passenger seat. She took out the top photo and studied it, a sense of nostalgia and love filling her.
She absolutely did love this orchard, and she did not want to lose it. She didn’t want another thirty years to pass and have someone else living in this house and tending to these trees.
This was her legacy.
She looked up and held the photo out in front of her, matching the house from back then to what it was now. It had been autumn in the pictures, and it was winter now, so the leafy trees didn’t match up. The house was more stark now, and Patsy could clearly see how certain things had fallen into disrepair.
The roof sagged on the left side, and that would need to be addressed come spring, which was only weeks away now. Most of the snow had melted, though Mother Nature still liked to freeze everything overnight. Wyoming often saw isolated snow storms through May, so they weren’t out of the woods yet, though March had been trucking along for a week or so now.
Patsy lowered the photo, because the steps also needed to be resealed, and the pillar on the corner of the porch had started to splinter. They needed a professional to come look at the house and determine which structural improvements needed to be made.
They had all the money from the sale of the twenty acres across the highway, and Patsy knew her father hadn’t spent it all. She and her siblings had put it in a special account that they controlled, and they paid him a salary every month for living expenses. She just needed to talk to Joe and Betty about making the repairs around the house, the farm, and the orchard.
Betty should be the one doing that, as she technically ran the orchard, and a vein of bitterness spread through Patsy as she got out of the car and walked toward the steps and to the front door. “Dad,” she called as she went inside. “It’s time to go to the doctor.”
She didn’t mind making the trip down the canyon to take her father to his appointments, and she and Betty split the load about fifty-fifty. Betty’s daughter had a dance concert at school that morning, so Patsy had made the trip. She’d be stopping by the grocery store and Cy’s shop later too, and it sure was nice to get away from the lodge.
They’d made it through their extremely busy Valentine’s Day season, and Patsy, Eli, Beau, and Wes had started orchestrating their Spring Fling—a brand new event that had sold out in fifteen minutes. All ten days of it.
Patsy was tired just thinking about it.
Cy had been doing an amazing job with the events, and he’d made metal charms for everyone who’d stayed at the lodge in February. Heart-shaped charms, and Patsy reached up to the one she wore around her neck.
“Dad?”
She walked into the kitchen and found the evidence of his breakfast in the sink. He didn’t eat a whole lot while he was doing his treatments, and she wasn’t surprised to see the half-eaten plate of eggs with the empty bottle of Ensure on the counter beside the sink. If he could get that down and keep it down, he did okay.
“Coming,” he said, and Patsy turned to find him walking down the hall, one hand against the wall for extra support. She hurried to meet him, love filling her whole soul. “Hey, my beautiful daughter.” He smiled at her, and how he had the strength to do that when he felt so poorly, Patsy didn’t know.
She hoped she could be as faithful and fierce as him with whatever the Lord sent her way. “Hey, Dad.” She hugged him and added, “Do you have your insurance card?”
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Patsy helped him get outside and down the steps, then into the car. He heaved a sigh as he finally sank into the seat, and Patsy offered up a prayer as she went around the back of the sedan. “Help him to do well with this treatment. It’s his last one, and if it be Thy will, we’d love to see significant shrinkage on his scans next week.”
She paused at her door, a desperate pinch in her chest bringing tears to her eyes. Thy will.
She knew God was merciful. She knew He could perform miracles. She wanted one so badly for her father, but she’d been praying for such a thing for over a year now. What was she doing wrong?
She went to church. She served when opportunities came up. She prayed. She tried to be kind and loving to everyone around her.
She thought about the resentment and bitterness she still held for her siblings. Perhaps that was holding her prayers at the door to God’s ears. Maybe He wouldn’t grant her desires when she carried such negative things in her heart.
Patsy sighed too when she sat down behind the wheel. She didn’t know how to get the infectious feelings out of her heart. Just when she thought she was over them, they came creeping back in, especially when she got things like the aged photos her father was now leafing through.
“Where did you get these?” he asked, his voice full of awe.
“Laney Whittaker,” Patsy said. “She came here for a field trip in high school.” She’d also learned that Laney and Graham were expecting another baby. That was the reason Laney had been so drawn and so tired over Christmas.
The Whittakers had asked anyone who could to pray for Laney, as she’d had a rough pregnancy the first time around, and she was in the high-risk category because of that, as well as her age.
Patsy hadn’t forgotten to pray for Laney and Graham, as well as their children, once. She loved them, and it was easy to pray for someone she loved.
“Look at your mother,” he said, and Patsy heard the wonder and sadness as they intertwined.
“I saw them,” Patsy said. She put the car in reverse and turned around. Her mind spun with all the things she wanted to ask her dad; she hardly knew where to start. “Dad, do you know why she left?” She flicked a glance at him and pulled onto the highway that led toward town.
He didn’t answer as he shuffled through the photos. When he reached the end, he tucked them into the box
and looked out the windshield. “She hadn’t been happy for a few years,” he said. “I told her we’d wait until you finished school, and then we’d look at selling the orchard and doing something else.”
Pure surprise hit Patsy like a bucket of icy water. She hadn’t known that. Her parents had never talked about it in front of her. “What would you do?”
“She wanted to travel,” he said, his voice growing distant. “She wanted to live in a big city. She’s from Miami, you know.”
“No,” Patsy said. “I did not know that.”
Dad chuckled, but Patsy’s chest hollowed out. She hadn’t known where her mother was from? How was that possible?
“She lived there until she was ten,” Dad said. “Then her family moved here.”
“Do you think she’s back in Florida?”
“I don’t know,” Dad said. “But she left when I finally told her I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sell the orchard or land that had been in my family for five generations.” He looked out his window. “Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it.”
“I would’ve bought it all,” Patsy said, looking at her father. “Honestly, Dad, I would’ve done anything to buy it. It would have stayed in the family.” She wanted it all, even now.
He reached over and patted her arm. “I know, dear.”
“I want it now.” Patsy’s mouth turned sticky. “I hate that Betty’s in charge of it. She doesn’t even do what needs to be done.”
Her father finally looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? Dad, come on.” She shook her head. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“We sold the north twenty, because the apples were just falling to the ground,” Patsy said. “Betty didn’t hire the people to harvest. She doesn’t put on the fertilizer four times a year. She doesn’t prune. The farmhouse is a wreck, and the horses get out every other day, Dad. All of that would be fixed if I was running the orchard.”
She drew in a breath, because she didn’t want to talk badly about her sister. At the same time, the dangerous, dark feelings she harbored bled out of her when she spoke about it. If she could rid herself of those feelings, maybe God would hear and answer her prayers.
