A stifled noise, like a cry, carried down the hall, igniting Thomas’s protector sense. He released the frame he was holding into the box and bolted back to the family room. His girlfr— No. His friend was in Wesley’s arms, and she was crying.
“Val, you okay?”
She stepped back from her friend’s embrace.
“You’ve got my number.” Wesley nodded to Thomas, then let himself out.
For the next hour, Val and Thomas sat on her couch. The dam holding back all of her life story crumbled, and detail after detail burst forth.
Her name was Valor, not Valerie like Thomas had assumed. Her mother was a free-spirited chase-the-wind type who named each of her children after the personality trait she prescribed to them. True to her name, Valor was the steady, responsible big sister. But many years ago, her mother had run off with another man, leaving Val’s father and abandoning her and her siblings. Her mother had finally returned to Colorado, sick with terminal cancer and hoping to make things right. Rather than calling, Wesley had offered to tell Val himself and driven ten hours to do it.
Thomas listened for a long while as she contemplated whether she should return home and attempt reconciliation, not just with her mother, but with everyone in her family. As the clock struck midnight, he put his arm around her while she called Wesley and told him that tomorrow, she’d go back to Colorado with him.
When Thomas drove away from her apartment for the last time, he was alone once again. As he should be.
Chapter Fifteen
Blue stared hard at the text message from Hunter. Mr. Mixed Messages was at it again. Did his new girlfriend know that he was still reaching out to his ex-wife? Of all people, Ilsa should understand that faithfulness wasn’t one of Hunter’s strengths.
Hunter: I had the maid put up the Christmas tree yesterday. As much as I teased you about your ornaments, I appreciate every one now because they remind me of you. I miss you, babe. When are you coming home?
She released a ragged breath. Sliding her phone across the table, she zeroed in on the last line of dialogue she’d written in her notebook—a line Movie-Thomas says after rescuing the woman and child from the sinking car.
THOMAS
Why’d I jump in the river? Because I knew someone was waiting for the person in that car to come home.
It was poignant and classy. Something a humble hero would certainly say. But not Real-Thomas. That one used words sparingly, and when he did speak, they rarely set hearts to swooning. Not like Hunter, who could deliver lines perfectly every time. No. Thomas’s charm was more deep-seated. It flitted around his words and swirled in his brilliant eyes that held the kind of compassion that couldn’t be manufactured.
Blue scratched out the line, then stood from her chair and stretched. What would Felix say? A stack of books rested on the counter. On the bottom lay a notebook just like the one she’d just been writing in. Only this one was marked with dried tears from the past two years. On the front cover in block letters, it said, Glory Falls.
She flipped open the cover of the notebook and found the last scene she had written the day of the Gallatin County Harvest Festival. The day she’d agreed to write Thomas’s story. In this scene, Glory, the heroine from Mississinewa Glory, was all grown-up, and life hadn’t gone the way she’d planned. The girl who had given hope to an entire town was now in her darkest days. But that didn’t stop her from going to the bus station and welcoming home her old friend Felix. Glory hardly recognized him. He was no longer the sickly boy next door but a Vietnam War hero.
Unfortunately, too much time had passed, and the friendship they’d once shared had crumbled. Felix and Glory stood five yards apart, staring at each other and waiting for Blue to give them the right words to say. Two months they’d waited, and they’d have to wait longer.
Blue tossed the notebook on the desk, where it nudged a facedown picture frame. She drummed her fingers on her knee as she stared at it. Finally, she tilted it a bit. When gloom didn’t immediately descend on her, she set it upright in the place it had been when she’d first arrived. In the shot, her father cradled newborn Ella in his arms and wore the proudest grandpa grin in the entire universe.
As a vise gripped her heart, she exhaled a long, unsteady breath. Progress. Still, she needed to get some fresh air.
Fortunately, the afternoon was as mild as a Montana December day could be, and yesterday’s snowfall had blanketed the mountains with wintry wonder. She waded through her mother’s closet for snow gear, finally landing on a pair of white Bogner ski pants and a navy Moncler Grenoble down jacket with matching gloves. Her mother was curvier than Blue in both the hips and chest, but it would do for the little hike she had planned.
Blue went out through the garage. A glance at Thomas’s house showed no life. His Bronco still held the four inches of snow from yesterday, although his backyard was marked with tracks of a frolicking Labrador. She hadn’t spoken to Thomas since Thanksgiving. He hadn’t asked for space, but she needed to give him that if he and Val wanted a chance.
The ground was rocky behind her home, where it rose in elevation. With the snow varying in depth, walking was a challenge. Perhaps snowshoes might be a good investment.
She hopped across Glory Falls. The creek had frozen over, and icicles dangled from the drop-off. A smile teased her lips as she recalled the time she and Thomas used a Barbie and an action figure to reenact the famous scene from The Last of the Mohicans when Daniel Day-Lewis vows to find Madeleine Stowe no matter the cost. Thomas would summon his deepest voice for the line, and then they’d fall into a fit of giggles at what seemed then a bit over-the-top. But Blue wouldn’t balk at that kind of love now. Faithful, self-sacrificial, and brave.
Like a scene from a movie, Blue saw herself and Thomas sitting cross-legged on the ground next to the falls, the week before senior prom. They’d only had eyes for each other at that moment. Blue thought he might love her. Not that she’d ever had someone love her like that, but she’d seen enough movies to make a guess. He’d taken her hand and held it so tenderly. It was perfectly sweet, and a little sweaty.
Moments like that were far different with Thomas than with Hunter. Whereas Thomas was intentional, slow-moving, and often awkward, Hunter wasn’t shy in the least about handholds, hugs, or kisses. Maybe if he had been, things would have been different for all of them.
* * *
* * *
Thomas watched his dog dawdle ahead, her unusual gait leaving a trail through the snow. At least if she got too far, he’d be able to track her. Sure enough, he found Molly by the creek. But she wasn’t alone.
Blue kneeled by Glory Falls. She accepted Molly’s rampant kisses and tail wags happily. When she saw Thomas, her smile beamed brighter than the sun. With her pink cheeks and big, round eyes, she looked like the cutest Christmas elf.
He waited for the familiar guilt to strike, but it never did. Val had made it safely to Colorado, and while she promised to update him on how her time with her mother was, they’d both agreed that breaking up was the wise path to take.
And so, he was free to think the thought he’d stifled for the past three months. Cecelia Walker—Blue—was more beautiful at twenty-nine than she’d ever been before. And that was saying something. Because of all the people he’d met throughout his life, she was the most radiant of them all.
“What are you two up to?” she asked.
“Molly wanted a walk.”
Blue nodded but turned her attention back on the dog. It wasn’t like her to stay quiet for long. Something was up.
He’d thought spending time alone after the breakup was the appropriate course of action. Yet as he moved aimlessly from work to church to home, he’d thought of Blue often. And now that she was so close, he wasn’t in a hurry to part from her. “Would you like to join us?”
Molly barked, then spun in a circle.
Bl
ue laughed. “I guess. You know, since Molly asked.”
Thomas clapped his gloved hands to get Molly’s attention, but the dog stayed right by Blue’s side. He shook his head. “Let’s take the trail.”
“Where are we headed?”
“You’ll see.”
A quarter of a mile later, the trail opened to a clearing Thomas knew Blue would remember. Sure enough, she gasped when she saw the old church, standing so stately above the snow-covered field.
“It’s still here?” she asked.
“Hasn’t fallen yet. Want to go check it out?”
“Like I’d say no?”
The church, built in the early 1900s, hadn’t hosted a service in more than fifty years. And Thomas had never known it to have shingles on its roof, a door on its hinges, or glass in its arched windows. But the bones of the church remained, along with its steepled bell tower.
As they neared the structure, Blue added a hitch to her step. She must have the same good memories that Thomas had.
Thomas pulled the small rug out of his backpack. He unrolled it and placed it on the ground. Molly stepped onto it, paraded in a circle, and then lay down.
“What’s she doing?” Blue asked.
“Waiting for this.” Thomas withdrew a buffalo horn from the bag and offered it to Molly to gnaw on. “We come here pretty often. I don’t like for her to go inside, so I found a trick to keep her occupied.”
Blue led the way up the church steps. She stomped the excess snow off her boots. Out of respect, perhaps? Did she not notice the inch of snow on the floor of the church, blown through the split wooden walls and the gaping hole in the ceiling?
With each of her footsteps, Thomas felt the slight tremor beneath his boots. A wave of panic sliced through him. In all the times he’d come and prayed in this church, he’d never worried whether that would be the day the old church finally collapsed. This was different. Blue was here. He quick-stepped to her side. “Maybe we shouldn’t be in here.”
“Thomas, this church has been standing for more than one hundred years. It’s withstood tornadoes and earthquakes. I think it can handle little ol’ me.” Blue’s gaze moved across the church, wall to wall and floor to ceiling. “It’s still breathtaking. Do you remember all the time we spent here in high school? So many conversations. And by conversations, I mean I rambled, and you listened.”
“Hey, I liked your rambling.”
Blue walked to the front of the church, which had once held the most basic of altars, according to pictures at the West Yellowstone Library. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared up at the hole in the ceiling.
“The last time I went to church was Christmas morning, almost a year ago. The message had been about hope and joy, and Hunter said Ilsa brought him hope and joy. I only brought him sadness. That’s when he finally told me.” Blue lifted her shoulders and spread her hands in surrender. “The affair had been going for a few months while they shot on location. I’d stayed home because—”
“You were mourning.” Thomas had the urge to take her in his arms and hold her until the hurt was quelled. He didn’t, but based on the way Blue studied him, the desire was likely written all over his face.
“I know what it’s like to be disrespected. I don’t want Val to feel that. We probably shouldn’t do things like this—”
“Val and I broke up.” The words came too easily.
The church creaked slightly in the light breeze. Although the temperature was below freezing, warmth enveloped him—all due to the way Blue looked at him now.
“We agreed that whatever a relationship needs to make it long term, ours didn’t have. And we cared for each other too much to keep trying to force it.”
“Oh.”
“Then this man—this friend of hers drove up from Colorado to tell her about a family emergency. From the looks of it, the two of them have some unfinished business. She went back home with him.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Last week? You could’ve told me.”
“I know. I needed time to process it all.” Thomas released a cloud of breath. “Anyway, we don’t have to keep our distance anymore. You know, for the screenplay.”
“Right.”
Thomas walked to the front of the church where a preacher used to stand and offer hope of redemption to the congregants. He certainly couldn’t give Blue that, but he had an idea for something else. “Hey, uh, the Christmas Stroll is next week. It’s gotten a lot bigger the past few years. I know you’ve been working hard on the script, but if you want to, we could go together. I mean, not together, just—”
“Together.”
“Right.”
“Count me in. I’d like to include a Christmas scene in the book. It’ll be good research. So if you could, you know, rescue an elf from under Santa’s sleigh or something, that would be helpful.”
“I can’t promise anything,” he said. “How is the screenplay coming?”
“It’s good. I still need one good tug-at-the-heartstrings scene. The one to show the so-called dark night of the soul.”
Thomas froze. “My soul? What are you going to say?”
“Not entirely sure yet. Your brain is kind of a mystery to me, Beck.” Blue’s eyes roved across the ceiling. “But whatever I come up with, I think it has to happen here in this church. I can picture our hero on his knees, broken before the altar. Powerful imagery, right?”
He said nothing, not that she’d hear him anyway. Her mind was most likely eddying with cinematic aesthetics and that mise-en-scène she used to prattle on about during movies they watched. She was hardly thinking about him at all. When her feet finally settled back on the ground, their eyes met, and she seemed to realize something. “Oh, Thomas. I’m sorry.”
“You’re fine. It’s your job.”
“But if my job is to turn you into a character and not care for the real you, then I don’t want it.”
“Blue, seriously, it’s fine. If there’s anything I can do to make this movie a success, I want to do it.”
“Now that you mention it, how would you feel about driving up to Big Sky with me next week? There’s a friend of yours up there that I’d like to talk to.”
All of Montana went silent. The wind, the animals, and this normally creaky church all seemed to wait for Thomas’s response with bated breath.
“Which friend?”
“One at the federal prison.”
Thomas stopped mid-swallow. He coughed. “Stuart Ashcroft? I don’t want you talking to him.”
“Why not?”
His pulse raced faster than a fire through a paper factory. “Because he stalked Ryann for the past ten years. He nearly got her killed.”
“I’m not Ryann.”
“But you’re beautiful,” he said before his brain thought better of it. How could he walk this back? “I mean, he might think you are, and trust me, you don’t want to be in his sights. Plus, he can be charming when he wants to be, and you don’t have a good track record with those kind of guys.”
Blue’s right brow arched skyward.
“I didn’t mean that. I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to say it.” Ugh. This was why he didn’t talk.
“Thomas, it’s my last interview. I have to do this.”
“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you.”
“Wonder of wonders, Thomas Beck is going to be forthcoming about his good deeds?”
He groaned. “If it keeps you from meeting with him. Basically, Stuart manipulated and bullied a lot of people in town, and he finally went to jail for it. No one liked him, especially me, but I also know what it’s like to be alone, so I started visiting him. He turned me away the first few times, but eventually, he agreed to it.”
“And what would you two talk about?”
“Not much at firs
t. He thought I couldn’t relate to someone like him. So I told him about Ella.” Thomas dropped his gaze to the floor of the church where his boots had packed down the snow. “I told him that it was my job to keep everyone safe on the river, and I’d failed. And that I’d promised you that I’d find her, but I was too late.”
Thomas could still feel the weight of her toddler body in his arms as he delivered Blue’s child to her. He lifted his eyes to the rafters that had heard his confessions of sins throughout his life. But this one was surely unforgivable. “I began sharing Bible stories with him. Honestly, I was doing it for me more than him. But they weren’t the nice, sweet stories. I shared the harder, grittier ones. Not David in front of Goliath, but David taking Bathsheba into his bed, then sending her husband to die in battle. Not baby Moses floating in a basket, but Moses killing the slave driver. He asked for his brother Tyler’s Bible, and we’ve been reading through it, one book at a time. The prison did a baptism last month. And I was in the water with him as he was baptized.”
“You’re a great friend. To him and me. And for what it’s worth, I know you would’ve saved Ella if you had the chance. I know it.” Blue tightened her arms around her stomach. “But let me ask you this: Do you still believe God is good after all you’ve seen?”
Thomas’s gaze flickered from Blue to the church’s single exit as his thoughts scaled a time line of sorrowful memories. “I never doubted God’s goodness. Just my own.”
Chapter Sixteen
On the following Saturday, Blue headed into town for the annual West Yellowstone Christmas Stroll. Thomas explained that between three and five in the afternoon, he’d be at the Union Pacific Dining Lodge with the squad, hosting a kids’ event. Sure enough, one of the fire trucks had been decked out in colorful lights that blinked along with the rhythm of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”
The lodge was busier than she’d ever seen it. Santa and Mrs. Claus were greeting the town’s children in the Firehole meeting room, and a long line of children waited impatiently with their parents. Blue swung in the other direction and headed to the steps leading down to the Mammoth Room, where a fireman was handing out candy canes. He wasn’t bad looking, and his muscles could put Hunter’s to shame. His darker skin and bald head led her to believe this was Spencer, the fire captain in the squad photo Thomas had displayed in his kitchen. When she approached, he shot her a smile, then nodded in Thomas’s direction. What had Thomas told his coworkers about her? Had he told them about this not-quite-date? The only one Blue had told had been Molly, and only because she crossed a paw over her heart not to tell anyone.
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