by Liz Isaacson
He just needed to string a whole lot of moments together, and maybe then he’d be able to find a future where he wasn’t angry or sad or anxious, but also not medicated so heavily he didn’t know who he was anymore.
“Dear Lord,” he started, his voice loud out in all the silent trees. “Did You know I would be like this? I’m sure You did. How do I overcome this? How do I find my own happiness?”
He took a few more steps, glad for a large enough space for his thoughts to bloom and grow. “I know I can overcome this,” he continued. “I’m going to need Your help though. If You’ll lead me, I’ll do whatever You need me to do.”
When the alarm on his phone sounded, Cy turned around and started back toward his house, whistling for Blue. “Come on, girl,” he called. “We’ve got a meeting at the shop in a few minutes.”
As he walked, he set another alarm, this one as a reminder for him to stop and say out loud one thing he was grateful for in that moment.
“I’m grateful for dogs,” he said as he tapped save. Blue Velvet came trotting up beside him, and Cy bent down and scratched her head. A smile spread across his face, and Cy experienced a blip of real happiness before his medication buried it again.
A week passed, and Cy’s dosage had been stepped down twice. He liked this new level he was at, and he’d told Dr. Montgomery as much. She was pleased, and Cy felt like the barrier between who he was now, and who he’d been when he’d literally sneered at Patsy about how selfish she was, was more like a piece of plastic wrap.
It moved when he pushed against it. He could see and hear through it. He wasn’t nearly as angry or emotional as he’d been before, and he did like taking a few extra seconds to consider his words before he said them. He’d apologized to Marissa and McCall, and they’d both hugged him and said he was forgiven.
He wished he could go across the street to the Foxhill Farm, or down the highway and around the corner to the rental house where he’d once lived and apologize to Patsy. He needed her to forgive him, but Dr. Montgomery said she didn’t think Cy was ready to see Patsy quite yet.
He’d asked her if he’d be ready one day, and she’d said, “Oh, sure. Soon, Cy.”
Soon.
He put two pieces of metal together and lowered his eye guard. The welder sparked, and the metal heated together, and Cy pulled it out. He’d designed a sign for the farm in Ivory Peaks that featured the Hammond surname and the magnificent Rocky Mountain peaks.
He’d spent plenty of time in his welding shed, making gifts for his brothers as Christmas seemed to be right around the corner.
Time was one of those things that his anti-depressants skewed, and Cy didn’t hate that either. It meant he lived by the alarms on his phone, and when it went off this time, he glanced at it to check the note he’d typed in.
Call Ames.
That was right.
Ames had left that morning, and he’d wanted Cy to call him that afternoon and tell him how he was doing. So Cy flipped up his visor and dialed his brother’s number.
“Hey, little bro,” Ames said, something like rushing water in the background.
“Where are you? Still driving?”
“No, I met Gray and Hunter at a creek a couple of hours north of home.”
“Are you wearing waders?” Cy teased, and it felt good to be able to do that.
“Maybe,” Ames said with a chuckle. “What are you doing?”
“I’m in the shop,” Cy said, looking at the sign he’d started. Now that he looked at it, the pieces weren’t at the right angle. “Making something for Mom and Dad for Christmas.”
“Nice,” Ames said.
Cy smiled at the happiness in Ames’s voice. “Listen, Ames, I wanted to thank you for coming to stay with me for the past couple of weeks.”
“Of course,” Ames said.
“I was really out of it there for a few days, and I…appreciate it.”
“Cy, you’re my brother. More than that. You’re my twin. I know you, and I’m just glad I could be there.”
“Yeah.” Cy took a breath. “I just want you to know I’m grateful. I love you, Ames.” His throat closed, especially when Ames repeated the sentiment back to him.
“I was wondering,” Cy said. “How you got the time off so fast.” He heard someone shout in the background, and it sounded like Hunter. “And now you’re fishing instead of going straight back to your desk.”
“Teri Lynn’s got it covered,” Ames said coolly.
“And you’ve left everything to your partner…when?”
“You’re ruining my last day off,” Ames said. “I’m fishing right now.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to call you.”
“And you did, and I’m glad you’re doing well,” Ames said, and Cy knew he was hiding something about his job. Saying he’d been pretty out of it was an understatement, and Cy was glad his mind wasn’t as hazy as it had been last week.
“Who’s coming tonight?” Cy asked.
“What?”
“You and Gray aren’t in town anymore,” Cy said, because it was September now, and Gray had taken his family back to Ivory Peaks for the school year. Hunter had just entered eighth grade, and Cy missed their little family that would be growing by one in just another month or so. “And I know you’ve set up a rotation so I won’t have to be alone.”
“Wes should be stopping by tonight,” Ames said.
“I’m doing a lot better,” Cy said. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I know,” Ames said, but he didn’t try to defend himself. He also didn’t say he’d call Wes and tell him he didn’t need to check on Cy. “What were you thinking about while welding?”
Cy didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t want to say either. “Patsy.”
Ames sighed and said, “Cy.”
“I’m fine, Ames.”
“I just think you need some time,” his brother said.
“I was thinking about the last time I kissed her,” he said, his memories flowing back to that incident. “I’m hoping it wasn’t really the last time.”
“Cy.”
“I’m allowed to talk about her,” Cy said. “In fact, that’s all you and Wes and Colton and everyone have been hounding me to do for the past two weeks. Heck, the past year.”
“No,” Ames said. “I wanted you to talk to a counselor to deal with your anxiety and get the help you needed before it got to the point where you were in the back yard, having a panic attack.”
Guilt filled Cy, and he’d never felt like such a failure. “I’m sorry, Ames,” he said, not for the first time. “I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t know how many more times you need to hear it. I’m sorry.”
“I know you are,” Ames said. “I don’t need you to apologize again. I really don’t.”
“It helps me to talk about her,” Cy said. “And you’re my only safe person, Ames.” If he couldn’t talk to Ames about Patsy, then what? He didn’t even want to imagine what might happen to him them.
“I know that, and I’m glad to be that person, Cy.”
“All right,” Cy said. “I should go.”
“You’re not going to call her, are you?” Ames asked.
“Doctor Montgomery doesn’t think it’s a good idea.” Cy heaved a sigh, suddenly keen to end this conversation. “All right, I have to go.”
“Hey, real quick. Gray’s already asking about Christmas. He’d love to have everyone down to the farm this year.”
Cy didn’t answer right away. His mind had gone back to last Christmas, when Elise and Gray had gotten married. His parents and Grams had come up to Coral Canyon, and they’d spent an amazing holiday at the lodge. He’d started his relationship with Patsy, and he wanted to go back to Whiskey Mountain Lodge, where the Whittakers had created such an atmosphere of love and acceptance. Family was whoever came through the door, and Cy had felt it.
“I’ll talk to Colton,” Cy finally said.
“We’re not going to get Colt.” Ames
sighed and added, “I’ll talk to Gray and make sure he’s not too disappointed.”
“You might get Colt,” Cy said. “And Wes.”
“Hey,” Wes’s voice sounded behind him, and Cy faced his oldest brother.
“Wes is actually here,” Cy said. “I’ll call you later.”
“Yep.”
Cy hung up, and smiled at Wes, who carried his ten-month-old in his arms. “Can I take him?” He reached for the chubby-cheeked boy, who babbled and came happily into Cy’s arms. “Hey, Mikey.” He grinned at the little boy, seeing so many Hammond genes in his dark hair and eyes. His hair curled like Bree’s, and he was such a cute baby with Wes’s big, brown eyes that always shone with happiness.
“I ordered fried chicken,” Wes said. “Should be here in a few minutes.”
“Great.” Cy handed Michael back to Wes. “I need to wash my hands real quick, and then we can go to the house.”
“Sounds good.”
Cy stepped over to his shop sink, his heart pounding. As he turned and dried his hands, he said, “You don’t have to stay long, Wes. I’m really okay.”
“Oh, yeah, I know that,” Wes said easily. “But we’ll stay for a while if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” He tossed the towel down. “But why would you want to be hanging out here instead of at home?”
“Bree needs a little break,” Wes said with a smile. “Mikey’s teething, and she’s booked a massage and a pedicure. So I’ve got a few hours to kill.”
“Great,” Cy said, taking his nephew again. “Let’s go find Blue Velvet then, okay, Mikey? You want to see the doggie, right? Doggie?”
Michael just babbled, but Cy felt sure he heard the D-sound in there. Mikey definitely wanted to find Blue Velvet. As the little boy gripped Cy’s elbow, his heart filled with love until he thought it would burst.
He was glad he could feel it as keenly as he did, and he never wanted to be wrong for falling in love. He just needed to figure out if he should hold onto Patsy for a while longer…or if it was time to let her go.
Chapter Thirty
Patsy enjoyed the wind in her face as she rounded the last corner and crested the hill, the lodge where she’d spent so much of the last four years appearing in front of her. She flipped on her blinker, though she certainly didn’t need it on this road.
But she wanted to be able to do everything on the motorcycle, and that included using the blinkers. A strange sense of power flowed through her as she chugged up to the curb and stopped the motorcycle.
“You look good on that thing,” Beau said, smiling at her as she took off her helmet.
“Thanks,” Patsy said. “I feel good on it.” She gazed at the yellow machine, seeing all the details that Cy had put into it. “No pointers on that entrance to the parking lot? I almost felt like I needed to gun the gas.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t.” Beau smiled at her. “So progress.”
“Yeah,” Patsy said, wondering how much more progress she needed to make before she made the five-minute ride to the shop down the lane lined with apple trees.
“Come review the contract, and then we’ll go,” Beau said, gesturing for her to follow him.
“Thanks for doing this, Beau,” she said, falling into step beside him. Her boots felt too heavy, but Ames had insisted she get the thickest, sturdiest pair available. He told her to never ride without long pants, long sleeves, and a helmet.
She wasn’t sure how, but he’d snuck over to her house every night since she’d begged him for help. He’d taught her how to start the motorcycle. How to get on. How to lean, turn, balance. All of it.
He’d left town a little over a week ago, but Beau Whittaker happened to be into motorcycles, and he’d caught Patsy practicing in the parking lot at the lodge on Ames’s last night in town. He’d said he’d help, and he’d been riding with Patsy every night for the past eight evenings.
She didn’t want to ride at night, but Beau said she should learn. Just like she learned to drive in less than optimal conditions, she should be able to ride her motorcycle too. So she’d done what he said.
They’d gone up to Dog Valley to take Celia a loaf of the cinnamon bread she loved. They’d gone around town during rush hour. They’d even done a long stretch of highway driving as they rode to Jackson Hole and back last weekend.
Patsy was ready to go show Cy that not only did she love the gift he’d given her, but she loved him too.
“Of course,” Beau said. “I haven’t lawyered in a while, but it’s a simple purchase contract.” He went down the hall to the office, where he’d been working on her contract for the past few nights. “It’s straight-forward.” He picked up a folder. “Three pages. He has to initial all of them and sign this last one.”
He handed her the folder, and Patsy flipped it open. She could read legalese quite well, as she’d managed plenty of things with policies. But tonight, her eyes couldn’t seem to settle on the letters for long enough to form them into words.
“What does it say?”
“It says you’re going to purchase fifteen acres of land, located at the address you gave me.” He pointed to it. “You’ll maintain it. The road through it will be maintained by the other party, and you won’t do anything to compromise their ability to do that. The contract takes effect the moment it’s signed. And the purchase price is—” Beau cleared his throat, though a huge smile sat on his face. “One kiss.”
“It has to be a good kiss,” Patsy said jokingly, though she wasn’t joking at all. If Cy would accept a kiss from her, she’d take back the orchard he hadn’t touched.
Easy.
Simple.
Her heartbeat rioted in her chest, testifying that there was nothing simple about what she was going to do.
Nothing.
She shivered, because the autumn weather had arrived in Coral Canyon, and it seemed to be permeating the lodge.
“I’m sure it’ll be a good kiss,” Beau said, smiling. He reached up and ran his hand down the sides of his beard. “I’ve seen him with you, Patsy. He’ll forgive you.”
Patsy looked up from the folder, hope shining through her now. “You think so?”
“I would, if a woman rode up on a motorcycle I built, apologized, and said I had to kiss her so she’d accept what I’ve wanted her to have all along.”
“Yeah.” Patsy looked down again. Ames had told her over and over that Cy wasn’t the same man he’d been before. Patsy hadn’t told anyone what he’d said to her, because those words still bounced around inside her, their sharp teeth shredding her a little bit more every day.
Ames had said he was softer now. Medicated. Able to think clearly.
She missed him so much. Sometimes, she simply lay in bed, thinking about him, wondering if he was asleep in that moment. If he was thinking about her. If he wanted her at all anymore.
She drew in a deep breath. “Should I sign it first?”
“Sure,” Beau said, reaching for a pen. “Then he’ll know you’re serious. I mean, he’ll already know that the moment you ease up on that bike.” He grinned and handed her the pen.
Patsy initialed the three pages and signed her name at the bottom of the third one. “Thank you, Beau.”
“Good luck, Patsy.” He drew her into a hug. “We sure do miss you around here.”
Nostalgia caught Patsy right behind the lungs. She breathed through it and stepped back before she said, “I miss it here more than I thought I would.”
“You didn’t like it here?” Beau looked shocked, his dark eyes swimming with questions.
“I loved it here,” she said quickly. “I’ve just wanted the orchard for so long. I didn’t think anything would be as good as managing that.” She shrugged, not sure she wanted to admit her thoughts out loud. In the end, she said, “Turns out, it’s just another job. One I feel personally attached to, with stakes I really want to win. But yeah. It’s work.”
Beau nodded, acceptance filling his expression. “I understand t
hat. Well.” He blew out his breath. “Go get your billionaire back, and then maybe it won’t be so much work.”
Patsy laughed with him, glad for the moment of respite. Then she zipped her jacket again. Put on her helmet. Tucked the folder into the single saddlebag on the side of the motorcycle.
She hummed down the canyon, her pulse picking up the vibrations from the vehicle beneath her. She did love riding this motorcycle, and she’d fantasized so many times about what it would be like to have Cy at her side.
She wanted him there so badly, she couldn’t even name the desperation pulling through her. It was certainly stronger than mere desperation.
Before she knew it, she arrived at the new road Cy had put in, and she drove under the canopy of the apple trees she loved so much.
But she knew now that she loved Cy more. She loved him more than her orchard. More than her motorcycle. More than her pride.
She wasn’t sure what his hours were at the shop right now, but it was almost dark, and she assumed he’d be at home. So she went past the parking lot—which was empty, save for a couple of motorcycles—and to his house in the corner. His truck sat there, as did a blue motorcycle with a gray seat and two big saddlebags, one on each side.
A fleeting moment of panic suggested he might be leaving town, and Patsy thought perhaps she should just go on home. She had no right to be here.
She pushed against those feelings and parked her motorcycle. Surely Cy had heard her approach. The bike wasn’t very quiet, and everything about the land and atmosphere out here was.
Sure enough, she’d removed her helmet and set it on the handlebars before she turned to the saddlebag containing the folder. She hadn’t allowed herself to even look toward the house, but she could feel Cy’s eyes on her.
Everything inside her warmed and buzzed, and Patsy forced herself to unzip the bag as if nothing was wrong. But tears already sat in her eyes, and she honestly didn’t know what she’d do if he didn’t forgive her.
