by Rachel Hauck
“So what are you up to the rest of the day?” Cole said, his idea solidifying.
“I have no idea. I wanted to head down to Birmingham to see Charlotte Rose, but she’s out of town. I’ve been working on design ideas for the shop. I want to capture some feel of yesteryear. How the world might have looked in Miss Cora’s day. Give it that twenties and thirties feel.”
“Hollywood regency?”
“Right. You remembered.”
“So, you want to go shopping? I know some antique malls . . .”
She shook her head. “Not until I have the money. It will only depress me if I find something I can’t buy.”
“Credit card?”
“No can do.” She glanced away, down the avenue, shaking her head. Cole knew that move. One born of regret. Of wishing for wiser times. “I’m using my own money to get the website going, buying inventory. The furniture I want might have to wait. Cole?”
“Haley?”
“Am I crazy for wanting to do this?”
Cole leaned against the passenger side door of his truck. “Why would anyone be crazy for pursuing a dream?”
“Because it’s a dumb dream? I know you don’t want me to mention Tammy, but—”
“It’s okay.”
She leveled her gaze at him. “She never really mentioned the shop to you?”
“No, she didn’t. But—”
“But what? If she changed her mind I look all the more foolish.”
“Maybe you look brave. And devoted.” He searched for a word to match the feeling in his chest. “How many people would pursue something like this out of devotion to a friend? To a pinky promise?”
Haley tugged on her gloves. “When I got out of the air force I was pretty lost, banged up from a relationship. Tammy had just died . . .” The wind pushed her hair back from her face. “So I sold everything, hopped on my bike, and drove across the southwest, trying to clear my head and heart.”
She paused and he waited, resisting the urge to fill the space with some trite comment.
“I’d just crossed the Texas line on my way to visit friends when I heard ‘Go home’ rattle across my mind. I knew it was God, but I resisted at first. Because going home meant living with the parents. At least in the beginning.”
“What changed your mind?”
Her laugh was low with resolve. “My heart knew it was right. And I actually didn’t know what else to do. It’s getting cold.” She smiled at Cole, walking backward toward her bike. “Check you later?”
Cole walked with her, working up the nerve to deploy his idea. “What are you doing today?”
Ever since she’d whispered, “But I want you,” in his ear that morning at the diner, a small flame ignited in his soul, catching him off guard. But it was waking up desires he’d buried long before Tammy died. It was making him want her.
Don’t get mixed up over pleasure and business. She wanted a contractor, not a boyfriend.
“Research, I guess. Call around about inventory. Which I hate because I’m not really sure what I’m doing yet. I sound stupid to the designers.”
“So how about doing something fun?”
She regarded him with a narrow gaze. “Define fun.”
He laughed. “Oh no, you have to trust me on this. Are you game or not?”
Seeing her inner debate in her expression, he was pretty sure she’d say yes. If memory served, she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
“Game. Let’s go.” She shook her head, making her way toward her Harley. “You hit my Achilles heel.”
“My place. Follow me. I live down River Road.”
At the house, she parked her bike in the shade of his detached garage. Removing her helmet, she followed him as he opened the bay doors and scanned the property.
“I love this place. Wasn’t this the old Good farm?”
“Yep. A distant cousin inherited the place, second cousin once removed or something, and he parceled up the land and sold it. However, he wanted the house and six acres to stay together.” Cole grinned back at her. “I was in the right place at the right time. He gave me a great deal.”
“Wow, that’s weird.” She followed him into the garage. “I’m getting the wedding shop and you have the Good farm. Spooky.” She paused, hands on her hips. “So what are we doing here? Please don’t tell me we’re going to clean your garage.”
“Spooky?” He made a face. “What’s spooky about me getting the farm and you the shop? And yes, ta-da, we’re going to clean out my garage.” He swept his arm toward an immaculate, pristine space.
“Ha! If I’d had men like you in my unit . . . Sigh. It would’ve been glorious.” She stood in the doorway, her slight frame haloed in the midmorning sunlight glinting off the snow.
She was gorgeous. He’d not allowed himself to see how much so before now. Nor since fifth grade when she socked him.
But as Tammy’s BFF and little sister of his friend Seth, Haley had always been off-limits. Until now.
“Yeah, it’s spooky. You bought the Good farm. Now I’m buying the wedding shop.” She laced her fingers together, demonstrating some kind of point. “Those two places are intertwined. Birch and Miss Cora. Me and . . . you . . .” Her voice trailed off and she diverted her attention to his workbench. “Seriously, you’re a freak, Danner. This place is spotless. Every tool is in place.”
“Makes them easier to find.” Birch Good and Miss Cora? He’d forgotten they had a story. It wasn’t anything to pay attention to, was it? He heard bits from the second cousin when he signed the final papers but . . .
His heart ran hot under his churning thoughts, sensing some kind of cosmic connection neither one of them planned. Glancing toward Haley, he didn’t know how to form his feeling into words, so he shook the sensation to the ground and moved to the storage closets.
Unlocking the doors, he reached inside and tossed Haley a flak jacket and a pair of goggles. “Heads up.”
She caught the bundled gear with one hand. “What’s this?”
“Paintball.” Cole handed her a Tiberius T9.
“Paintball?”
She stared at the gear, her expression sober, and for a moment he wondered if he’d treaded over a wartime memory she wanted to forget.
“Look, Haley, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking . . . I don’t know how Bagram went for you . . .”
She glanced up. “Sorry?” Her grin waxed his heart. “Dude, let’s do this.”
Shoving her way into his storage closet, she chose her own gear—an old fleece of Cole’s and a pair of his brother’s camo pants—which were too big for her small frame, but she hitched them up by tying scarves to her thighs.
Then she inspected the guns. “I want to make sure you’re giving me the best one. Not some piece of garbage where the paintballs get jammed.”
“Would I do that to you?”
“Yes.”
He laughed. She was right. He would. But not today. Not when he wanted a fair fight. When he wanted to just be with her. And laugh. He really needed to laugh.
When they’d geared up, Haley headed out, leading the way with the Tiberius anchored on her hip. For the baby in the family, she was bossy. “Let’s go, Danner. I’m going to paint you like a Rembrandt.”
Yeah, this was going to be a fun. “We’ll see about that, Morgan.”
On the edge of the drive, Haley paused to tie a bandana over her head, then added a worn wool hat. “Ready?”
“I gotta tell you, Haley, you’re scaring me a bit.”
“Be afraid, Cole.” She cocked her gun. “Very afraid.”
In that moment, his heart cracked open a little bit more. What if . . . Cole cauterized the notion, unwilling to entertain any possible answer. So why entertain the question?
He grabbed the University of Tennessee flag and headed toward the stand of trees, detailing the boundaries and the rules.
“The game is capture the flag.” He raised the flag.
“I know the game, Cole.”
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“Just reminding you of the rules. Besides, you’ve been to real war since we last played and I want to make sure you know my rules.”
“Whatever. Go on.” She jogged ahead of him, turning, running backward. “I’m ready to play.”
“I’ll set this in the center of the stand of trees, in the mini woods, not more than a couple hundred yards square. Once I do, give me ten Mississippis to get to my base and start the game. The goal is to capture the flag and return to your base without getting shot. We’ll go three rounds. Winner take all.” He held up two scarves. “Red or blue?”
“Blue.”
He tossed Haley the scarf. “Pick your home base and tie this to the tree. If you get painted trying to capture the flag, you’re dead for five seconds, giving the other team time to take the flag and run. You have to count the Mississippis out loud when you’re dead. If you shoot and miss, it’s another five seconds.”
Cole heard the pop of the gun and felt the sting of a close-range shot against his arm.
“You’re dead. Start counting.”
He made a face. “That shot doesn’t count.”
She walked on. “What’s the prize when I win?”
“Bragging rights. And the game hasn’t started yet.”
“But you’re holding the flag.” She paused, anchoring her gun on her hip, pointing the muzzle skyward.
“Yes, so I can set it up on the field of play.”
“But you didn’t say anything about a field of play.” Before he could blink, she fired again, painting a green splash on his leg. “That’s two. I think I’m going to need more than bragging rights. Maybe dinner. Or free labor for the shop. Ooh, can I keep this gun?”
“No, you can’t keep the gun.” Cole leaned over her, staring her down, trying not to laugh. “My toys, my rules. Right now all you’re doing is wasting shots.”
“I’m only going to need three.”
“You have to hit me three separate times, with the flag in my hand, to win. If I get it to my base without getting painted, that’s ten seconds of dead time for you.”
“Won’t happen.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see.” Cole started off, trotting backward, taunting her, loving the liberty swelling in his soul. He’d not felt this free since before Tammy died. Since before she called off the wedding.
They’d arrived at the trees, the flag flapping in the breeze over Cole’s head.
“I’m going to plant the flag and set up my base. No cheating, Morgan.” He grinned. “At least not in the first five minutes.”
“I don’t have to cheat.”
“So you say, so you say.”
“Hey, there are a lot of disadvantages to being the baby girl in a family of four boys, but being the best at paintball isn’t one of them.” She peeled off, racing toward her tree, running under the lowest limbs. She was compact, a cannonball, a lightning strike. “You best get going, Danner. I’m itching to shoot you.”
Cole watched her run up a tree trunk, leaping to catch onto the bottom limb, then bounce back to the ground and disappear among the dense trees. He was in trouble. Big trouble.
In more ways than one.
Chapter Seventeen
HALEY
I warned you.” Haley breathed in the cold, crisp, beautiful air, her gun anchored on her hip, watching Cole limp toward her, his Tennessee flag all but dragging on the ground.
“That you were going to cheat like crazy.”
“Cheater? If that’s how you have to guard your pride . . .”
“Give me something, please. I was humiliated.” Cole stopped beside her, out of breath. “But between you and me, well played, Morgan, well played.”
“Next time I’ll let you win.” She laughed, turned for the house, and two steps in Cole tripped her up with the tip of the flagpole, sending her face-first into the snow. Haley scrambled up, protesting. “Oh, I see how it is.”
He feigned shock. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dropping her gun, Haley inhaled a cold, deep breath and ran at him with a rebel yell, hitting him so quick he had no reaction time. Tackling him to the ground, she scooped snow into his face, on his head, and around the back of his neck.
He tried to fight back but was laughing so hard he just laid there and took it. Haley rolled into the soft snow next to him and stared at the brilliant blue day, breathing deep.
“Thanks, Cole.”
He sat up, brushing the snow from his neck and face. “For what?” He motioned to her torso. “You have no paint on you whatsoever. Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll never be able to show my face in town again.”
She sat up. “I already posted on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter.”
He smashed a wad of snow in her face. “Ha-ha, I win. I win.” He tossed his head back and beat his chest.
Haley hit him square in his open mouth with a ball of snow. He sputtered, laughing, coughing, shaking the cold crystals, then regarded her for a moment.
“I had fun.”
“Yeah, me too.” She tried to hold his gaze, tried to see beyond his “just-a-guy-having-fun-with-a-friend” demeanor. Was it her imagination or did they have moments here and there? “Th-thanks for today. I needed this. Been a long time since I laughed.”
“Me too.” He angled forward to see her face. “Tammy’s death took the joy out of life for a while.”
“I should’ve been there more for her. But I was so wrapped up in my life-sucking relationship.”
“She understood, Haley. Besides, everything happened so fast. She was so worn-out and weak . . .”
“When I made it to the hospital the week before she died, I cried in the hall at how emaciated she was. But her eyes, you know, I could still see my Tammy in her eyes.”
“She had an inner fire to the end.”
Haley looked back at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, but I don’t promise to answer.”
“Do you see your dad? Ever?” Haley was at the community pool the day the FBI arrested his dad for fraud. She was there when his mom frantically demanded they let him go, declaring to everyone the feds were railroading her husband.
Cole shook his head. “He’s out, lives in Nashville, but our paths don’t cross.”
“What about your brothers or your mom?”
“Not sure about Mom. I think Chris and Cap do, but I don’t ask.” Cole patted down the snow on his right, then shoved the crystals at nothing.
“Know what I’ve learned over the years, Cole? Good people make bad mistakes.”
“If they’re good people, then why do they make bad mistakes?”
Haley had been asking herself that for the last year. “I wish I knew. But isn’t your dad repentant?”
“Sure, once the feds got hold of him. He turned over and showed his belly. But he still bilked people out of their money.” Cole shoved up from the snowy ground. “I have forgiven him, Haley. After Tammy died, I got back to church and realized if God required my life from me, I’d not be ready to face Him. I didn’t want to go into heaven with unforgiveness toward Dad. Not when God had forgiven me. But that doesn’t mean I want to see him or have a relationship.”
“It’s easy to walk out forgiveness from a distance.”
“I’m required to forgive, not have a relationship.” He jammed the flagpole against the ground. “What about you? Have your forgiven the person who wronged you?”
“Only a thousand times.” Haley fought to stay in a place of letting go, forgiving, not reliving the past. “My first Sunday back in church, I slipped in the back, and this sweet woman was preaching. She said the most profound thing I’ve ever heard in the most gentle voice. ‘The problem,’ she said, ‘is most people talk as if we will demand an account from God one day. But the harsh reality is God will demand an account from us. He will owe us nothing but justice.’ Scared the what’s-it out of me.”
Haley edged around the rest of the truth. How her life with Dax took her
soul places she never, ever wanted to go.
“I remember you were pretty much a Jesus freak in high school,” Cole said.
“Well, remove Jesus and you have just a freak.” Once she decided on a direction, she gave herself to it. No going back.
Cole laughed low. “What? I can’t see it. Little, blonde, beautiful Haley Morgan a freak? Like how? You dyed your hair black and wore a nose ring?”
“Child’s play. Externals. Symbolism over substance. I gave myself to my freakishness.” She shivered, the body heat she’d generated during the game was dissipating, and the cold settled in her bones. She shoved up from the ground. “I think I’ll go. I’m getting cold.”
“As long as we’re asking questions . . .” Cole pushed himself up with the help of the flagpole. “How come you never ask me about it . . . you know, Tammy and me?”
Haley squinted up at him through the shifting sunlight. “Ask about what? How much you loved each other?”
Cole regarded her. “She never told you, did she?”
“Told me what?”
Cole hesitated with a sigh. Then, “Haley, we broke up. Called off the wedding.”
“No.” She tented her eyes with her hand, trying to see his expression. If he was joking, he showed poor taste. “You broke up? A call-off-the-wedding breakup?”
“It all happened so fast. We broke up the November before last, right before Thanksgiving. So we kept it quiet. Didn’t want to ruin the holidays. Though I thought she told you. She quietly canceled things and we figured we’d tell everyone in January. But a week later she was diagnosed with cancer, and we were in a swirl of surgeries and treatments.”
Haley stared off over the white snow-covered field. “She never said a word.”
“I’d have called you if I’d known.” Cole crunched a wad of snow in his bare hand. “The cancer took over everything.”
Haley glanced over at him. “Why? Why’d you break up?”
“She said she wasn’t ready. Wanted to go to law school.”
“Do you have to be single to go to law school?”
“Apparently she thought so. Getting close to the marriage she realized she’d never gone on the adventure you went on. Said she’d determined at eight she was going to marry me and now at twenty-eight, that seemed foolish. Did she really want to marry me or her childhood idea?”
