Under a Firefly Moon

by Donna Kauffman

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, then settled back on the bench and let out a long, blissful sigh after opening the lid and taking a deep breath.

  She handed him a thermos of Hattie’s iced tea, a side of potato salad, biscuit, and a plastic fork; then she settled back on her seat looking suddenly a little nervous.

  “You aren’t eating?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Butterflies,” she said, as if that explained it.

  He paused then. “Because?”

  “Well, I brought you out here today because you’re my drop-everything-and-go person. I text you, say I need you, and I know you’ll do whatever you can to get to me.”

  He thought about that, then grinned and nodded. “That about sums it up, yes,” he said. “Though I do call an exception if I’m like, on a glacier or something, but the minute they can get me off, I’m on a plane, boat, helicopter, whatever it takes.”

  Smiling, but still nervous, she reached in the bag and pulled out an envelope. “Well, I wanted you to know that I’m your drop-everything person, too.” She handed it to him.

  He opened it and slid out a small blue paper folder made to look like an official passport, and a key. He opened the folder to see a smiling photo of her stuck inside, and grinned.

  “I haven’t gotten the real thing back in the mail yet, so Avery made that.” The sweetest blush rose to her cheeks. “But I have applied. For a real one. My first passport ever. I hope you’ll help me fill it up.”

  Surprised and touched beyond measure, he looked from the folder to her. “Chey—”

  She lifted her hand. “I’m not done.”

  He realized now why she looked nervous, and his heart filled right up. His smile softened. “Please, go on.”

  “I know we each have our paths to follow,” she told him. “And there will inevitably be times when we have to be apart, maybe for longer than we’d ever choose to be. I just want you to know that when I can work it out, I want to go with you. And when you’re not traipsing the globe, I hope you’ll see that”—she nodded at the key in his other hand—“as the key to your home.” She smiled. “Though we never actually lock it. And, technically, that’s not even actually a key to the door, because I don’t think I have one.”

  “A symbolic gesture as it were,” he said, feeling his eyes prickling a bit with emotion. She thought she was so tough, but she was so damn sweet.

  “Indeed,” she said. Then she laughed and let out a shaky sigh. “So, Wyatt Samuel Reed, formerly of our life on the circuit, and now with dual citizenship in Reed Planet and Lavender Blue, I hope you already know that I love you with all of my heart. And you’ll be taking that with you, everywhere you go, whether I’m with you or not.”

  He slid carefully to his knees in the center of the boat between the benches, so he was right in front of her. He picked up her hand and looked into her eyes. “I do, Cheyenne Rosemary McCafferty. I do.”

  She let out a shaky breath when he kissed her hand, specifically her ring finger. He was already planning to make sure he put a ring on it before leaving for Canada. Then he leaned in, tipped her hat up, and slid his hand into her hair. Smiling into her pretty eyes, he kissed her.

  “I’m all in,” she whispered, then opened her eyes when the boat wobbled. “With you. Not the lake.”

  He laughed. “No, I’d rather we stay all in the boat, too.”

  She held on to the front of his shirt, tugged him in for another kiss. Her hat fell off and landed in the open basket.

  He started to take the kiss deeper, but the boat wobbled again, and they broke apart, laughing, as he slid back to his seat. He retrieved his meal and nodded to her. “Okay, now you fill up a plate.”

  “Yes,” she said with a relieved laugh. “Now I can eat. I’m starving.”

  “You take care of that, and I’ll tell you my news.”

  Her eyebrows lifted as she settled in with her plate. “News? Did you hear from Dom on the paperwork from—I can’t pronounce the name without mangling it—the village you all are going to?”

  “No, not yet. We’ve hit a snag there, which is par for the course, but we’re working on it. No, this is actually much, much bigger news.” He smiled. “Maybe the second-best news I’ve gotten ever. That thing you just said being the first.”

  “You mean the ‘I love you’ part?”

  He placed a hand to his heart, and she giggled. “Yeah, that. Please say that as often as you want.” He hadn’t repeated those words to her since his declaration that day, because he didn’t want to pressure her in any way. He knew how she felt and wanted her to work through things at her own pace, her own way. He should have known she’d make it memorable. “And it’s doubly great, because I love you, too, so now we can both be super sappy about it and it’ll be okay.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good to hear, because otherwise, I would have held back on the sap.” She grinned. “No, I wouldn’t,” she admitted, laughing. “Oh my God, if Tory could see us right now, she’d be smug into the next century.”

  He chuckled and lifted the tea thermos in a toast. “Earned, though.”

  “True,” Chey agreed. “So, what’s the second-best news you got today?”

  “A call from Grant Harper.”

  Her eyes widened. “Like, ‘the call’ call?”

  She’d told him about what Vivi had said, about how she and Grant had had some conversation about Wyatt, but as the days had gone by without word from him, they’d started to joke about it, not really thinking anything would come of it.

  “He didn’t say a word to me when I asked him to help get this boat out here.”

  Wyatt looked around. “You know, I just now realized that with the park closed now, there would be no boats. He’s turning out to be a pretty stand-up guy all around.”

  “Well, he’s Vivi’s drop-everything guy, but he loans out,” she added dryly. “So that’s nice.”

  “Oh, nice doesn’t begin to cover it.”

  Chey’s eyes widened at that. She set her plate aside and leaned forward, hands clasped under her chin. “Okay, okay. Tell me, tell me. Did he miraculously solve all of our problems and make things in fairy-tale land last forever and ever?”

  That had been part of the joke, too. So Wyatt took great joy in simply saying, “Yes.”

  She laughed and had already started to say something, then caught the look in his eyes. “Wait. You’re serious.”

  “About as serious as it gets.”

  She looked stunned. “How? I mean, what could he possibly have done to do that? Is there even—”

  “He set up a foundation with a global initiative to take on projects like the ones I’ve been streaming. So, I won’t have to stream to find help or financing, or any of it. The foundation will fund what’s needed. He’s financing it, along with a whole team of folks he’s put together. Fellow philanthropists.” Wyatt took her hands in his. “He wants to accept all of the proposals on our short list, Cheyenne. Do all of the things.” Saying it out loud brought a rush of gratitude that had his eyes prickling again, just thinking of what they could accomplish. It was overwhelming, in the very best of ways.

  She blinked, then blinked again. “But . . . how? There is only one of you, so how could you do all—”

  “I will write up proposals for the projects we choose, then the foundation will underwrite them. I will assemble a team—hopefully Dom and Jon, and even Peli will stay on, but I haven’t even gotten to that yet. I wanted to tell you first. We will do the same research, work on finding the solutions, all the things we did before.”

  “But you won’t have to travel all the time,” she said, sounding a bit breathless with shock. “And you can do all of them? That’s just . . .” She stared at him, speechless.

  “There will be some travel. I will have the flexibility to send people to the various locales to work with the locals and set things up, oversee them, and hopefully in this case, those would be the actual folks who can solve the problems, not just me, trying to d
rum up awareness and support.”

  “Wait, so you’re like . . . HR for the foundation, and the face of the brand, or—”

  “No. I’m running the foundation, Chey. All of it. Grant heads up the board along with the other trustees who are helping to fund it but . . . it will be my baby.”

  “That’s . . . incredible. But what about all your followers, what about Reed Planet?”

  “I haven’t thought all of that through yet, but the streaming we do now will end once the foundation is up and running. I’ll find a way to bring everyone who has been so supportive along somehow, though, with new content. I’ll create some new directions, new goals, and who knows what doors will open. I won’t walk away from my followers, though, not ever.” He grinned. “And I know for certain that Reed Planet won’t die, because that’s the name of the foundation.” He shared her look of amazement. “I know, right? I’m feeling pretty optimistic about the whole thing.”

  “You know what? So am I. And it feels really good.” She nodded toward the blue folder he’d picked up again. “So, does this mean no stamps on my fake passport?”

  “I’ll still want to go see the places, meet the people, to fully understand what’s happening. More like in an ambassador role, though, for the foundation. Before or during, maybe after. I can’t be in all places at once, but each trip would be fairly short.” He held her hand. “And much, much easier for you to come along. We can put real stamps on your real passport.” He dropped his head and held their joined hands up. “Would you consider being my, uh, ambassadress?”

  She laughed. “Is that even a thing?”

  He looked up through his lashes. “I’ll make you a cape and everything.”

  “Well, if there’s a cape, then I’m in.” She motioned to the dress she was wearing. “I’ve clearly learned never to say never.”

  He lowered their joined hands, and peered up again, one eyebrow raised.

  “Yes, yes, I accept,” she said, laughing, then paused when he settled back on his seat. “Wait, I forgot to ask. Where will this foundation be headquartered? Out west with Grant? Can you like, telecommute, or do your work from here? I mean, you wouldn’t really need to be on site for all of the—” She broke off, then deadpanned, “I’m already sucking at the ambassadress thing, aren’t I?”

  He shook his head, even as he grinned. “No, not ever.”

  “I’ll do better when I have a cape. I know it.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” he said, laughing. “Actually, though . . .” He gestured to the lake and land beyond. “This is the new home of Reed Planet. Grant talked with Bryan and the architect. They have to clear it with the town council, but they’re hoping to build the headquarters out here.”

  “Like, here, here?”

  “Yep, this very here right here. Bryan has his eye on a spot behind the lodge on the far side of the lake, so it doesn’t impede the view. It won’t be a big building, but we will need a conference room, and a few offices for core staff. We’ll likely have folks flying in from all over when we’re putting teams together for each project, so having the foundation near the lodge works out well.”

  “I don’t see why the council wouldn’t approve. It can only mean more good things for Blue Hollow Falls.”

  “I think so, too.”

  She smiled at him. “So, I totally didn’t think this whole boat idea through, because I want to launch myself at you and kiss you and basically jump up and down for joy, but preferably without any drowning.”

  Wyatt immediately picked up and positioned the oars and started rowing them to the dock in swift order.

  “What about our picnic?” she said, holding her hat on her head as they cut across the smooth surface.

  “I thought I was the drop-everything-and-go guy. You say it, I make it happen.”

  Her smile was wry. “I can see I will have to be more specific about when I’m just wishing and when I really need you.”

  He pulled up to the dock a few minutes later, then let her hand him up the basket and the rest, and finally helped her from the boat. Then he promptly picked her up and spun her around, right there on the dock.

  “That’s more like it,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as he set her feet back on the dock. “And who am I kidding?” she said, and tipped her face up to him. “I will always need you.”

  Epilogue

  “Does Vivi know yet?” Chey used the pitchfork to toss more hay into the stall, then turned to get another load.

  Tory moved the wheelbarrow closer to the stall she was mucking out. “I don’t know. Bailey said she heard Addie Pearl on the phone with the mayor, talking about Grant wanting office space separate from the foundation offices, so what else could that mean?” She crossed her hands over the end of the rake handle and rested her chin on them. “Bailey’s quite certain he’s moving here full time and the ranch will become their vacation home.”

  “One of his vacation homes,” Chey said. “And if Bailey thinks it’s happening, it’s a done deal as far as I’m concerned.” She laughed when Tory sighed.

  “It’s all so romantic. All the good ones are officially taken,” Tory said.

  Chey finished spreading the last of the hay and walked out of the stall. “I shouldn’t point this out to you, and I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the four of us were single when we moved out here two years ago. To the middle of nowhere. Leaving mankind and, basically, men, behind. Or so we thought.” She laughed. “People pair up so fast up here, it would make your head spin.” She snapped her fingers. “Maybe the new lodge should use that as part of their brochure. ‘Blue Hollow Falls is for lovers,’” she said, marking each word overhead with her hand.

  Tory covered her ears. “Why would you tell me that? You’ve jinxed me for life now.”

  “I’m just sayin’ is all I’m sayin’,” Chey drawled. “You’ll see.”

  Tory groaned. “Doomed, I tell you.” Then she smiled sweetly. “That’s okay. When I’m old and have adopted all the barn cats, I’ll just move into the spare room with you and Wyatt.” She batted her eyelashes. “It’s the least you can do for this poor old maid.”

  “Careful,” Chey said on a laugh. “I’ll get Avery to start making charts for you.”

  Tory laughed. “Hey, I don’t knock her charts. She’s got a whole system set up for me now with the classes and field duties.” She finished her stall and rolled the wheelbarrow to the wide double doors that opened off the rear of the stables. “Did Bailey tell you we’re putting up barrels this week? I swear that child is like a duck to a pond with anything she puts her mind to. If it wasn’t so amazing to watch, it would be frightening.”

  “Oh, it’s both of those things. And yes, she told me. I’m happy she’s learning.” She grinned. “And happier still that you’re the one teaching her.”

  “I don’t mind,” Tory said. “It’s like the best of the good old days.”

  “Speaking of good old days,” cut in a deep voice from the other side of the stables. Wyatt came strolling in and walked over to give Chey a quick kiss. “You ready?”

  “I am,” she said, with a smile. “How about you?”

  He lifted his hand. “I brought two apples. Granny Smith. Used to be his favorite. Thought that might help.”

  Chey put her hand on his arm. “He’s not going to need any help. Now that he’ll get to keep seeing you, this is going to be the most wonderful reunion ever.”

  “You sure he’s not going to associate me with what happened to him? I mean, he probably thinks I abandoned him. I did abandon him. I just didn’t know it.”

  Chey took his hand. “Stop stalling.” They waved their good-byes to Tory, who had gone back to mucking out stalls, and walked out the rear double, then headed toward the fence that ran along the back field.

  When they got close, Chey stopped and leaned on the railing. She didn’t look at Wyatt. She knew he had a tumult of feelings about this and gave him the time to work it out on his own.

 
Wyatt palmed the apple. Then he walked to the fence and looked out across the field, to the gelding grazing there.

  Maybe it was the wind, carrying Wyatt’s scent, but Buttercup lifted his head, scented the air, then snorted.

  Wyatt whistled, the whistle he’d always used for his horse. Just for his horse. It came out a bit weak and strangled the first time. Chey had a lump in her throat the size of that apple already, so she was surprised he could whistle at all.

  Wyatt cleared his throat, then tried again. It was clear and pure this time, and Buttercup immediately turned his head. And without taking so much as a second, he immediately trotted toward the fence, toward Wyatt, his ears forward and, Chey swore, a skip in the old boy’s step she hadn’t seen once in all the time he’d been at the farm.

  Buttercup stopped several feet from the fence, his hooves digging into the soft dirt. He regarded Wyatt for a long minute, then dropped his head, snorted.

  “I didn’t know,” Wyatt said, talking to the horse. “I didn’t know.” His voice broke and Buttercup walked to the fence, put his nose over the rail, and let out another rumbling snort. Wyatt didn’t reach out, didn’t touch him. Instead he held out the apple.

  Buttercup didn’t look at the apple, he just swung his head toward Wyatt and snuffled.

  Wyatt reached out a hand and stroked his mane, tears tracking down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he said, on a choked whisper.

  Then Buttercup dropped his head down and Wyatt finally put his arms around the horse’s neck. Chey saw his shoulders shaking as he kept his face buried there.

  Chey smiled and wiped away tears, but they kept trickling out. She quietly made her way back to the barn. This was between the two of them. She paused when she reached the stable doors and looked back, then smiled when she saw Wyatt offer the apple again, one arm over Buttercup’s neck. The horse nibbled, then bumped his nose against Wyatt’s pocket, looking for more.

  “You got your drop-everything guy back, Buttercup,” she said. And we all got our drop-everything-to-be-there home.