A Wyoming Christmas to Remember

by Melissa Senate

  “Why?”

  “We weren’t getting anywhere. And I hated talking about our problems with a stranger. She was good at getting us to open up, me included, and I hated that.”

  Maddie smiled. “I see.”

  “I don’t want to take advantage of your loss of memory. And touching you when you’re not yourself feels wrong.”

  Her smile faded.

  I want you to touch me. Oh, flip, she thought—was she being fair to herself? To the Maddie Wolfe she couldn’t remember? “You want to know what I’m thinking?”

  Surprise lit his face. “Yes.”

  “I’m thinking I want you to touch me. But you’re right, Sawyer. I want you to touch me because I don’t remember. And maybe if I did, I’d be bopping you over the head with the pillow.”

  “Oh, I think that’s way too playful for how you felt those last couple of days, Maddie.”

  “Really?”

  Now it was sadness that crossed his features. “Yeah. I was letting you down. In a very big way. And I couldn’t see a way out of that without saying yes to something that I couldn’t fathom. I’d think of a baby in our house, and my throat would close up.”

  “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

  “I’m not prone to panic, Maddie, but when I would sit with myself in the dark in the middle of the night, knowing the wife I loved so much was downstairs, miserable and angry and hurting and that it was my fault, I’d think, well, maybe we could just do it, have a baby. And then a rush of cold panic would start in my gut and threaten to drown me. That’s how it felt.”

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “You didn’t want a baby as much as I did want one. Oh God, Sawyer.”

  “It seems like a no-brainer to everyone. A sweet, darling baby, made of the two of us—what could be more special, more unifying? It’s very hard for people to understand.”

  “Did I understand? At all?”

  He reached out to move a strand of hair from her face. “Yes. But you really did believe the strength of our marriage would show me, change me, and it didn’t.”

  “Is it awful for you to have Shane and Max here?”

  “No,” he said. “But I think that’s because they’re not mine. And they’re not permanent. At least I think they’re not.”

  “Maybe they’ll change your mind.”

  He held her gaze, his green eyes tender now. “Maybe, Maddie.” But he didn’t sound sure. Not at all.

  She, however, was sure of something. Why she’d fallen in love with him, despite that big whopper between them. She was falling in love with him now, could feel her heart moving and quaking and leaning toward him.

  He was being true to her—the real her—by not touching her. She wondered if she was being anti-Maddie by allowing herself to fall in love all over again with a man saying no to what she wanted so badly. Or saying yes just because he’d pleaded for her life and his prayers had been answered.

  She could imagine how many nights she’d lain here rationalizing that she loved him more than anything—more than her desire to have children, to be a mother, and that thought, that knowledge had allowed her to sleep and go on to the next day with him. Until she couldn’t take it anymore because she thought his reasons for not wanting children were irrational. She figured anyway.

  And now she lay here beside her husband, unable to remember any of it. All she felt was a surge of tenderness for Sawyer, a strong physical attraction and a yearning to be closer to him, in all ways.

  “We’ll figure it out,” she said, touching his cheek.

  He gave her rueful smile. “That’s what I used to say.”

  “Well, we will.” She yawned, her eyes getting heavy, and she turned around, curling against him. She felt him freeze for a second and couldn’t help smiling at how predictable he was, deeply satisfied when he wrapped a strong arm around her and probably closed his eyes too.

  Chapter Six

  Another morning arrived with no text or call from Cole. As Sawyer sat at the kitchen table with Maddie, he stared out the window at the snow dotting the trees, then back at his cell phone lying beside his mug of coffee. He kept expecting it to ring or ping with Cole’s number. It never did.

  “Where do you think he is?” Maddie asked, giving Shane his bottle.

  Sawyer adjusted Max in his arms, tilting up the bottle a bit higher. “You reading my mind?”

  She smiled. “Just the way you were looking out the window, then down at Max. I just had the feeling you were thinking about your brother.”

  He eyed her, then put down the almost-empty bottle and took a long drink of his strong coffee. How did she know him so well when she didn’t even know herself right now? Which made him realize something else. “I wish I could say I knew him well enough to know where he might be, but I don’t. He could be right here in town, hiding out in a motel. He could be clear across Wyoming.”

  “He looked so upset, though, Sawyer. I can’t imagine him just leaving and never coming back. In my current state, I don’t know him at all, but from the way he seemed the night he left the twins with us...”

  “I know. He was shaken. But people get shaken and they panic and they do crazy things. I see it all the time.”

  “Is that what happened to your dad?” she asked.

  He stared at her. “My dad?” Talking about his dad was his least favorite subject.

  “Your mom died right after you were born. That had to have shaken up your father.”

  He pictured Hank Wolfe. Tall, muscular, tattoos on each arm, working out with the free weights on the padded bench in his bedroom, a bottle of beer on the floor at the ready. He’d inherited his father’s wavy dark hair and green eyes, just as Cole had. “I’m sure it did. He didn’t talk much about her, and both sets of grandparents died before I was born, so there’s no one to ask about their relationship.”

  “Alone with a baby, grieving. That had to have taken its toll.”

  He nodded, his chest feeling tight. “Well, these guys are fed. Why don’t I get them changed, and we can head out to the community center for the Holiday Happymakers tree.”

  She set down the bottle, now with just a trickle left, then brought Shane against her and gently patted his back. “Change of subject. Okay.”

  “It’s not my favorite one, Maddie.”

  “Well, turns out you’re not so lucky I don’t remember anything because it means I have to ask you questions. Otherwise, I’d be in the dark. And I hate being in the dark.”

  “Understood,” he said. She was absolutely right. But he still didn’t want to talk about his father.

  In a half hour, the babies were changed and in their heavy winter fleece buntings, ready to go in the double stroller the MacLeods had brought over yesterday. They were all practically out the door when the phone rang—the landline. It was Jenna. Her husband had taken the day off to accompany Jenna to her ultrasound appointment, and they both had baby twins on the brain and wanted to babysit Shane and Max for a few hours as practice, since they’d have their own baby twins in a few months. Sawyer had to admit he liked the idea of having some time alone with his wife; their nephews had arrived that first night she’d come home from the hospital, and their lives hadn’t been their own since.

  Ten minutes later, the babies and everything that Jenna and her husband could need for a few hours were now in her sister’s house. As he and Maddie walked back to his car, he kept feeling like he was missing something.

  “I’ve been without Shane and Max for all of twenty seconds this morning and I keep having these mini panic attacks that I forgot them somewhere.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said. “We had them intensely for over twenty-four hours, and suddenly, we’re on our own.”

  “I’m glad about that, Maddie. I think we could use a little time together.”

  She took his hand
and held it. He was surprised by just how good that felt. “So how about we go to the community center to the Holiday Happymakers tree, and then maybe you can show me around. Places that are important to us, important to me.”

  “Like a ‘This is your life, Maddie Wolfe’?”

  “Exactly. Dr. Addison said you never know what might trigger my memory to return. It could happen just like that,” she added on a snap of her fingers.

  And with it, your burning resentment of me, he thought—unfairly. He loved the way things were between them right now. Light. Happy. All good things shining in her eyes when she looked at him. It had been so damned long since she’d looked at him that way.

  He drove to town and parked in the lot near the chapel. As they walked toward the nearby community center, so many people out and about shopping for gifts stopped to ask Maddie how she was doing. That she had temporary amnesia was being kept on the down low, so again Sawyer quietly filled in who was who, allowing Maddie to know how to respond. Maddie did a lot for the town, volunteering to lend a hand in many capacities, and the outpouring of well wishes when word had spread about her accident had touched him. He’d gotten so many calls and texts, and the cards and flowers sent to Maddie at the hospital had meant a lot.

  As they entered the community center, the small line for the Holiday Happymakers tree was moving quickly. Some people plucked and read and put back the envelope if they didn’t like what was inside. Others just took an envelope and left with it.

  “Not many envelopes left,” Maddie noted. “That’s great.”

  He nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if people took more than one envelope—like I’m about to do.”

  “Warms my heart,” she said.

  Finally they reached the tree. He took off another envelope, and Maddie took two, then they headed over to the benches by the door. They sat and opened their envelopes.

  “Aw,” Maddie said. “Listen to this. ‘I’m eight years old, and all I want for Christmas is a stuffed puppy. I want him to be brown and white like the puppy my neighbor has. My parents say we can’t have a dog right now. If you get me a stuffed puppy, I promise to take good care of him. From Stevie.’ Aww, so much for anonymous. So cute.” She put the form back in the envelope and tucked it into her tote bag. “Let’s get her a real puppy!” Maddie said.

  Sawyer’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Maddie laughed. “Yes. Can you imagine?”

  “No, definitely not,” he said.

  As she opened her second envelope, Sawyer opened his.

  Here’s my list. Tesla Roadster (red). Round-trip tickets for two to Paris the last two week of August. At least $250 in a gift certificate to Lizabett’s Italian Ristorante. $500 in cash. Air Jordan Retro sneakers, size 12.5. Hey, you gotta think big, right? Merry Christmas!

  Sawyer rolled his eyes, tucked the list back into the envelope and walked over to the tree to clip it back on. It was the only one of two left now, and he had a feeling it would be opened and returned many times till Christmas. He took the other one and opened it.

  I’m not getting anything for Christmas because my father only cares about his stupid new wife and always-crying new baby. I could use a bike so I don’t have to ask him for rides anywhere. Whatever. This is just fake Santa. I’m sure I won’t be getting anything.

  —Jake Russtower.

  The kid forgot to keep it anonymous. Russtower. He knew that name. He’d have to check his records, but he was pretty sure he’d come across that name. And not in a good way. He had a feeling the tone and the name combined kept the envelope being opened and put back on the tree. He sighed inwardly and slipped the envelope inside his pocket.

  “How was your second one?” he asked.

  “A teacher at the middle school asking for books for her classroom,” Maddie said. “I’m all over that.”

  He smiled. “Mine’s a little heavier. Looks like some family issues. Kid wanting a bike.”

  “Well, that kid is lucky you’re his secret Santa, then.” She wrapped her arm around his, and for the moment, all thoughts went out of his head and everything was right with the world.

  Even if everything was as upside down as it got.

  “Ready for ‘This is your life, Maddie Wolfe’?”

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  They headed out, Maddie putting her gloves on and tightening her scarf. He knew just where to start on the Maddie Wolfe life tour. He just hoped it didn’t torpedo him.

  * * *

  After a call to Maddie’s sister and husband to check on the twins, who were “adorable and a pleasure to babysit.” Sawyer drove Maddie to Beacon Road. As he pulled up in front of the white house, his gaze was drawn to the house next door, the side porch that was the entrance to the apartment where he grew up. He wanted to drive away.

  “Ooh, what’s this?” she asked. “Where we grew up?”

  “Yup,” he said, getting out. As he came around the SUV, she got out too. “The white house was yours. Your parents sold it about seven years ago. You and Jenna moved out and shared an apartment while you were commuting to Wyoming Western University, and then you both got married, so April and Ace decided to downsize and move closer to town and the store.”

  Maddie peered up at the house. “I was hoping it would spark something, but nope. Doesn’t look the least bit familiar.” Her face fell. “I grew up here. I should remember. All my memories are gone. Everything I’ve been is gone.” She turned away, shoving her mittened hands into her coat pockets.

  He could kick himself for not realizing she might feel bad about not remembering her own life. Of course she would. Inside, everything might be shiny and new, but she didn’t know anyone, didn’t recognize anyone, didn’t have a single memory beyond the past few days.

  “Hey,” he said gently, putting an arm around her. “I could fill you in. That was the plan.”

  She looked up at him. “I guess you’d know. From the very beginning too.”

  “I do. I’ve always been there. Well, since we were five.”

  “Where’d we meet?” she asked.

  “I only know this story secondhand. Your mom loves telling us how we met.”

  “Hi, Chief!” called a voice. Sawyer glanced toward the MacLeods’ former front door to find the current owner smiling and waving. Amanda Palermo. He turned to Maddie. “Wait here a minute, will you?”

  He jogged over to the woman. “Mind if we pay a visit to your backyard? I was feeling nostalgic and wanted to show Maddie a couple things from the old days. We’ll venture down to the creek, too, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go right ahead,” Amanda said. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” he said.

  He headed back to Maddie and took her hand. “Right this way, ma’am.”

  She slipped her hand into his, and again he loved the way that felt. It had been a while since she’d held his hand before the accident. A while since she’d wanted to be anywhere near him.

  “See this spot,” he said, pointing beside a bare tree in the backyard not far from the house. “You were making a fort out of a sheet and kiddie chairs, and you had a sandwich and chips on a plate. I came over and told you there was a fat squirrel after your food.”

  She laughed. “That’s how we met?”

  “Yup. Then you shouted, ‘Let’s hide from it!’ And you grabbed the plate into the fort and we sat on the grass under the sheet and you offered me half the sandwich and half the chips. We were best friends ever since.”

  “Aw. Was that the day you and your dad moved next door?”

  He nodded. “I went outside and there you were.” He couldn’t actually remember being five all that well, but her mother had been sitting on the patio and saw and heard the whole thing and loved to tell the story whenever she got nostalgic.

  They w
alked farther down the yard toward the woods. The property extended a half mile, so they’d played in these woods for hours every day as kids. By the creek, he pointed to a flat-topped rock big enough for two butts. “That’s where you told me you had a huge crush on Jonathan Walloway in sixth grade. I wasn’t interested in girls then, but I remember feeling all out of sorts about the news. By seventh grade, I knew why. You always had boys chasing you, and I was always the BFF.”

  Maddie looked surprised. “I must have had a big crush on you too.”

  “Back then you always used to say, ‘Nothing is more important to me than our friendship, and therefore nothing can be allowed to ruin it. So even if I want to kiss you, I’m not going to.’ And I said, ‘So you want to?’ And you said, ‘It doesn’t matter because we can’t.’ I was so afraid of something ruining us, too, that I never asked if I could kiss you. We just stayed friends. We did go to a couple dances together but just as friends.”

  “So we dated other people even though we really loved each other?”

  “Well, we didn’t know we did in middle school and high school,” he explained. “I thought you just liked me as a friend, and you thought I just liked you as a friend. It wasn’t until prom night that things got very interesting between us.”

  “Ooh, what happened?”

  “I’ll have to take you over to the Wedlock Creek Town Hall for that story.” He was glad to be leaving the property. He’d left a lot out.

  Such as finding his dad passed out drunk on their tiny portion of patio and being unable to wake him up or move him at age nine. Having to ask Ace MacLeod for help so his dad wouldn’t freeze to death. Ace not saying a bad word about his dad, just telling Sawyer outright that anytime, day or night, if Sawyer needed help, needed anything, like now, he was to call Ace or April immediately. He’d made Sawyer promise that he’d always reach out to them for help, no matter what. Sawyer had promised. There were so many memories here that he wasn’t sure why he’d hit upon that one. Maybe because he’d never forgotten being unable to help his father, passed out in single-degree temps with just a sweatshirt and jeans.