by Kelly Moore
I place my wineglass on the edge and lean forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips. His sleepy eyes pop open.
“I think we need to get you to bed,” I say between my tender kisses.
“I have no energy left. You took it all,” he says without lifting his head, and I can’t help but smile.
“I promise to keep my hands to myself until morning, but I can’t get you out of this tub by myself.” I crawl out of the tub and wrap a towel around myself. I hold one out for him, and he slowly makes his way out of the tub. I lovingly dry every inch of him and tuck him into bed.
Chapter 25
Shay
I open the front door to get the newspaper, and Paul’s car is in the driveway. I never heard him come in last night. Keegan is still sound asleep in my bed. I smile, thinking about yesterday.
“You’re going to walk around with that smile all day, aren’t you?” Paul’s sitting in the kitchen drinking his coffee.
“I think I just might.” I lay the paper on the table in front of him. “What’s this?” I point to a box on the counter.
“I think it’s your mother’s belongings. It was on the doorstep when I came home last night.”
I completely forgot about it. I pick it up and lay it on the table then sit.
“Are you going to open it or stare at it?”
I run my hand across the top. “I think I’ll wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“I want some more time with Keegan before I explore what’s inside here.”
“Inside what?” Keegan’s sleepy voice burrows from behind me. He’s bare-chested with a pair of loose-fitting blue jeans low on his hips. He hair is uncombed, but somehow he looks sexy as hell.
“It’s the contents of her mother’s safety deposit box,” Paul says, and I kick him under the table. “Ouch!”
“Big mouth,” I yell.
“How did you get your hands on that?” He joins us at the table.
“A lot of research. I also found the detective that Wolfe’s…I mean my father hired to find me. Turns out, he found my mother and me years ago, but she refused to let him have anything to do with me.”
His hand covers mine. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. My mother did the best she could to protect me from him. My only regret is not getting to know Wolfe.”
“So, are you going to open it?” He points to the box.
“I will, but not right now. I want to spend my day enjoying you. Besides, I think we have a lot to talk about.”
Paul’s chair scrapes across the tile floor as he gets up. “I’m out of here on that note. You two don’t need me hanging around.” He pours what’s left of his coffee down the sink. “Call me if you need me,” he says and leaves the room.
“So what did you have in mind now that I’ve had a few hours to recover?” He raises his eyebrows at me.
“I thought maybe I’d show you the waterside. Have you ever been to California?”
“Nope.”
“Good because I want to share it with you through my eyes. We can eat at my favorite little café on the waterfront.”
“I’m game,” he says as he stands. “How about you join me in that fancy shower of yours first.” He holds out his hand for me to take.
“I think we're pretty clean after our bubble bath last night.” I take his hand.
“Oh, I plan on getting you dirty before we get in the shower.”
We stroll hand in hand, exploring the waterside together. It feels so good and natural being with him. He pulls the black wrought iron chair out for me at the café. Our table is overlooking the water's edge.
“This really is nice. I can see why you like it here.”
“I like this area, but I miss the small-town feel.”
He places his elbows on the table and leans on his hands. “Does that mean you’re coming back with me?”
“It’s not that simple. I have a lot of things I have to work out first. My business is here.”
“Your business can be anywhere.”
“I have my house.”
“Sell it.”
“You have all the answers.” I look away from him, and he tugs my chin in his direction.
“I want you with me, not a million miles away. I don’t want to waste any more time being apart.”
“I want to be with you too, but…”
“But what, Shay?”
“When I’m with you, I’m so happy. I feel loved and free at the same time.”
He leans back in his chair. “So what’s the problem then?”
“I’ve built a life here, on my own. I know who I am here.”
“You don’t know who you are when you’re with me?” His voice trails off.
“That’s not it. I want to know that you know who I am when I’m with you. I don’t want to fall into Timber’s role in your life. I want to be the woman you are madly in love with.”
“You are that woman for me, and I’ve come to accept the fact that you are not Timber and even if you were, you’re not the same woman I remember. I. Love. You. Shay. Fox. If I have to tell you that every day for the rest of my life, I will.” He gets down on one knee. “I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
Tears fill my eyes. This beautiful man is out here on his knees, in front of the world, asking me to marry him. I want to say yes, but I’m not ready just yet.
“I…I do want to marry you, but I need some more time.” I’m begging him to understand. I see the hurt in his eyes, but he shuts it down.
“I will give you whatever you need. I just don’t want to be worlds apart anymore.”
I place my hand on his face. “That I can work on, I promise.”
The rest of the day he’s a little distant but he is always touching me, whether it’s holding my hand, touching the small of my back, or wrapping his arm around my shoulder. It’s comforting in his silence.
I make a pot of spaghetti, with him by my side. We share a bottle of red wine as he catches me up on his conversation with Emmalyn at Timber’s graveside.
“Wow. She’s a rather intuitive twelve-year-old.” I laugh.
“Yes she is. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like without her in it. She can’t wait to meet you by the way.” He lifts his glass in the air.
“I can’t wait to meet her either and your parents.”
“Yeah, my mom is the one who gave me the push I needed to get out here.”
“I’m already liking her.” I wink at him.
“I think you have some unfinished business with your mother.” He cocks his head in the direction of the box.
I draw courage from him. I put my glass of wine on the table, get up, and get the box along with a knife to open it.
“Do you want to be alone?” he asks.
I shake my head and cut the tape around the edges.
A key to the metal box is taped to the outside. I unlock it and raise the lid. On the very top is a white envelope addressed to “My daughter.”
Butterflies dance in my stomach as I open the flap.
To my dearest daughter –
I write this letter to you from my death bed. These are words I should have spoken to you but never found the courage.
If you know nothing else in this life, know that you were loved. You’ve brought me more joy than I deserve. Because of decisions I made, you missed out on the life you were born into. Pieces of your life have always been missing.
You were born on an Indian reservation in the deep mountains of Utah. You and your twin brother, Wolfe. Your father, my husband, was not a good man. I took you from him to protect you. I hid you away from all of your family so that he couldn’t get to you. My biggest regret was leaving your brother behind. I knew he would be safe, but your life was in danger.
Your uncle Hunt took care of him until your father took him away. I never saw him again. I changed your identity, and we moved frequently until I knew he was no longer after us.
Years later
he found me. You weren’t home at the time. He said he was there to apologize and to make amends. He said if I’d come back with him, we could be a family again, and I would have my son back. Something in his eyes made me not believe him. I chose to keep you safe rather than have my boy back. I can’t tell you how much this broke my heart. Wolfe would never know how much I loved him or that he had a sister.
Please find it in your heart to forgive me and maybe one day find your brother and tell him I’m sorry. I kept a few of you the things from your childhood for you including a copy of your birth certificate so that you would know the truth.
I love you more than you will ever know.
Your Mother
I wipe back the tears I didn’t realize had fallen. I fold the letter and hand it to Keegan to read. My birth certificate is next. The names are not scratched out on this one. Next is an old notebook. On the outside, it says first grade. When I open it, my thoughts unravel. At the very top of the page is a name written. Timber Hunt.
Page after page is the same name. I gasp out loud.
“What is it?” Keegan is on his feet by my side.
“She said she changed my name.” I hand him the notebook. She gave me my uncle’s last name. All this time, Keegan was right.
“I don’t understand. I thought the DNA testing proved that you weren’t Timber.” His eyes are wide.
I get up from my chair without responding and run up to my office. My hands shake as I open the file cabinet and take out a file. When I turn around, Keegan is right behind me.
I open the folder and hand him the unopened lab results.
He takes it from me and flips it over looking at it. “It’s still sealed.”
“I thought when I found out that I was Wolfe’s sister, there was no point in opening it.” My voice trembles.
He shoves his finger in between the flap and rips it open. I watch as his eyes scan the paper. A tear falls from his eye when he looks back up at me.
“What does it say?”
“It says…” He chokes. “It says you match Timber Hunt one hundred percent.”
Epilogue
Shay
“Wolfe! Here, boy, it’s time to eat!” Placing my fingers between my teeth, I let out a loud whistle. “Wolfe!” I yell again and stomp through the snow.
The door to Keegan’s new black F250 truck slams shut. “He’s probably out back playing with the deer.” He greets me with a kiss. “Hey, baby.” His warm smile melts my heart.
“Hey yourself. We really need to fence in the yard. Wolfe keeps tracking further out.”
He chuckles. “Well, border collies are herding dogs.”
“Yeah, but I think he thinks that family of deer belong to him. He and the fawns are always chasing one another. I’m afraid they are going to fall through the ice.”
“Let me get Emmalyn’s new guitar out of the back and bring it inside. I’ll help you chase him down.”
“She is going to be so surprised.” I’m so excited for her I’m clapping my hands.
“It’s not often a sixteen-year-old girl asks for a guitar instead of a car for her birthday.”
“I can’t believe she’ll be sixteen tomorrow. I’ve not had near enough time with her.”
“She adores you.” He kisses my forehead and heads to the porch.
I wrap my jacket tightly around myself and head through the thick snow to find Wolfe. As I follow his footprints, my mind drifts over the last four years.
I packed up everything I owned with the help of Keegan the day I found out I was Timber. There was no more fighting it. He had been right all along.
From the moment I walked into his parents’ house, I felt nothing but love. Emmalyn never shed a tear. She loved me the moment she saw me just like her father did. I felt the same for her. Never once has she blamed me for leaving her.
I still have no memories from the time I lost, and I more than likely never will. The loss tugs at me when I see videos or pictures of Emmalyn as a child. I wish I could have been there for those years, but I’m more than thankful I have them now.
It’s funny how fate works. If Keegan had not written me those letters trying to find Wolfe’s sister, I would still be clueless as to my past. How ironic that I ended up being both his wife and the twin sister to his best friend. Fate had a hand in all of it from the time the two of them became best friends.
Even though I had no memories of being here, I felt a sense of belonging the first time I stepped foot in this cottage. Keegan moved the three of us here shortly after I came back. I was in shock when he showed me the music room he had remodeled for me. It used to be my music room, but was cleaned out and locked after he thought I was dead. Somehow, he knew I would come back to him. He bought a dog to complete our little family. Emmalyn insisted on naming him Wolfe.
We thought about having another child, but I felt like I didn’t want to take one more minute away from Emmalyn than I already had. I love my family.
Two weeks after the whirlwind move, we got married at Honeymoon Bridge. It was just our family and Paul. It was very simple, and the weather was perfect. The flowers that lined the lake had already started to bloom. The twinkling lights on the bridge made it seem like a fairy tale. I laugh to myself because I feel like my life has been a fairy tale and Prince Charming came along and kissed me, giving me my beautiful life back.
I glance at the tattoo surrounding my ring finger. Keegan’s name is on top, and Emmalyn’s is underneath. He teases me and says it’s in case I’m ever lost again, he doesn’t want to have to convince me that I belong to them. He had the name “Shay” added to his tattoo band. He insisted that I go by Shay and not Timber because it was what I was comfortable with and who I had become.
I couldn’t ask for a better husband, friend, or extraordinary lover. Not to mention, a loving father to our daughter. It’s not too often that you get the chance to truly fall in love twice in a lifetime, much less to the same man. My heart could never belong to anyone else other than Keegan, even when I was someone else.
“There you are,” I call after the dog. He comes bouncing over when he finally sees me. “Good boy.” I rub the top of his head, and he licks me.
Keegan whistles behind me, and he takes off through the snow to get him. I slowly make my way back to them.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks.
“Nothing, why?”
“Your eyes are misted over.”
He misses nothing when it comes to me. “I was just thinking about my past and where I am today, feeling very blessed.”
“There’s that gorgeous smile that I love.” He runs his cold fingers down the side of my face. “Let’s get inside before we freeze to death.” He wraps his arm around my waist.
“I could think of a few ways you could prevent that from happening,” I tease him.
“We do have a good hour before Emmalyn makes it back.”
“Mmm…can we make love in front of the fireplace?” I look up at him, and his eyes are already heated.
“Baby, I’ll make love to you right here in the snow, if that’s what you want.” He laughs.
“I wouldn’t want your ass hanging out and getting frostbite, much less your other parts. I say we stick to the warmth of the fire.”
“I’m good with that,” he says, and we walk arm in arm inside the house. The door is barely locked before we are naked in each other’s arms.
Prologue
“Lip, are you home?” I say, opening the door of our small apartment on the third floor. The white sheer curtain is blowing inward from the outside shelf balcony. I know he’s out there when I see a puff of cigarette smoke float inside the window.
I lay down my purse and the Styrofoam container full of delicious smelling goodies on the kitchen counter. I kick off my shoes and join him out on the small ledge.
“I brought home some baked goods. The owner of the bakery said if I would do some odd jobs for her that she would let me take home the leftovers,” I say as I si
t down beside him, letting my legs dangle from the railing.
“I’m not hungry,” he says between puffs on his cigarette.
“You never eat. You’re thin as a rail.” I brush my hand through his hair, and he moves his head away.
“You’re not my mom, Mags. You don’t have to take care of me.”
“We take care of each other,” I say, laying my head against the rusted railing.
“Don’t you get tired of this shit—begging for food, doing odd jobs?”
“Well, if you’d lay off the drugs and the cigarettes, maybe we would have a little money.”
He stands. “You’re as addicted as I am,” he says, climbing back through the window.
He’s right. God, I wish he wasn’t. Our own mother overdosed on drugs when I was twelve years old. Lip was thirteen. Our father is rotting in prison for dealing drugs. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. We’ve been on our own for five years now. I’m seventeen, and I’ve barely managed to stay in school. Lip bailed on it when dear old Dad got arrested. We were both placed in shelters but ran away. A friend of Lip’s lets us stay in this run-down apartment. It’s not much, but it’s all we have.
The sheers blow outward, and I scrape them off me as I follow him back inside. “We could try to quit, you know?”
The torn bean bag makes a squishing noise as he plops down on it. “I don’t want to quit. It’s the only time I feel remotely good. It helps me to forget about my miserable life.”
I sit down on the floor across from him. There is a wooden coffee table with a broken leg that we’ve duct-taped together sitting between us. “We could quit. You could go back to school and make something of yourself.”
“I’m never going to be any more than what I am.”
“That’s not true. You’re so smart. When you were in school, you tested at genius levels. You could be anything you want to be.”
