by Gemma Snow
She reached for a drawer and grabbed the bottle opener on the first guess, all fluid, confident movements that made Lily long, just a little, for Maddy’s simple understanding of her own self and abilities. Maddy never questioned anything. She’d gone to school, gotten a job, kicked ass and taken names.
“Lils?” Maddy handed her a beer then indicated the patio, where they both walked back out into the afternoon sunshine and settled into comfy chairs. She shot Lily a sly smile. “I was just kidding about the getting up to trouble up here. And don’t let Ryder and Christian know that I called the guys hot. They’ll never forgive me.” Maddy was…different, Lily decided. In the best way—relaxed, calm, happier than she’d ever seen her sister before.
“How do you do it?” Lily blurted out. Madison’s beer was halfway to her lips and she paused, narrowing her eyes in confusion.
“Do what?” she asked after a long pause, her voice soft and without judgment, though concern colored the edges.
Lily rolled her eyes, frustrated with herself and her inability to put her finger on anything right now. Between the research and the sudden desire she felt for not one, but two men, her world had gone completely topsy-turvy and she barely knew which way was up.
“How do you always know the right thing to do?” Lily asked. “You’re confident in all your choices and you never seem to wonder if you’re doing the right thing. You just know. How do you do that?”
Maddy’s smile was a little sad and she put her beer down before reaching over to squeeze Lily’s hand.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I tried to plan everything out with the ranch, remember, selling it, moving back to San Francisco, the whole thing, and look at how well that turned out.” She paused and looked out over the mountainside. “I almost left, you know? Ryder and Christian and I, we got into a fight, a bad one. I didn’t think I could trust them and I tried to catch the first flight home. Thank God they stopped me before I walked away from the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“You really believe in it,” Lily said and, God, was that hope, pathetic and kindling in her voice? “How do you… I mean, how does it work, with three? It seems hard.”
Maddy shrugged. “It’s different. But every relationship has its challenges. Jesus, look at Joshua, that cheating ex of mine, if you want an example of how complicated things can be with just two people. So, yeah, it’s hard, but it’s definitely worth it.” She turned and looked Lily in the eyes, her gaze far too discerning.
“What’s this all about?” she asked. “You seem a little unnerved by something. Are you all right?”
At that moment, Penny scratched on the door to the patio and Lily took the opportunity of getting up to open the screen to answer Madison without looking her in the eye. The puppy bounded over and settled herself at Lily’s feet.
“I kissed them.” She said it softly, but when she turned around, Madison’s eyebrows were buried in her hairline and her mouth was drawn into a tight line. Not a good sign.
“Any regrets?” she asked.
Lily shook her head. “I’m just… I’m confused. I’m here, back in the field, and for the first time since Daniel I actually want to share my bed with someone, but it’s not just one someone—it’s two.”
“I’m not surprised you’re confused,” Madison said. “Each of those things on their own would be a lot to take in and you’re dealing with all of them at once.” She sighed and took Lily’s hand and, for the first time in a long time, Lily actually felt like the younger sister she was, someone who needed guidance and maybe just a little handholding. She’d been keeping her head high, her shop running and her grief buried, but she was out of her comfort zone now and it felt like she might have a shot at seeing the light at the end of the tunnel as long as Maddy was by her side.
Just Maddy?
“I’m not going to tell you to move on from Daniel,” Maddy said, her voice low. “I still miss my parents and they died almost twenty years ago. That’s not how grief works. But if you do decide you’re ready to let someone in, and if you do decide to let both of them in, you have to be open and you have to be honest, with them and yourself. This type of thing doesn’t work without full communication. Trust me.” She smiled. “You’re not going to be okay, because you already are okay,” she said. “You just need to start believing it.”
Lily nodded. Madison’s words made a certain kind of sense and maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world to just see what happened here, to try to find some healing and peace in this slice of mountain paradise.
“Now, tell me about your research,” Maddy said, changing the subject to something she knew that Lily couldn’t help but chatter on about. “Have you discovered the cure for what ails us?”
“Menstrual cramps,” Lily said on a laugh. “The tansy is good for menstrual cramps and pregnancy complications…if it doesn’t kill you. And yes, I’ve come across some interesting discoveries in the soil analysis.”
Maddy took a long drink from her beer and sighed. “I asked, so let’s have it…”
Her sister left the cabin well after they’d heated up some frozen pizzas and finished the six-pack. The sun set early in October, and it had been pitch-black outside for the better part of an hour when the first crack of lightning streaked across the sky. Lily was settled into the comfy leather couch, flipping between HGTV and the news, when the thunder cut behind it, rolling through the sky and somehow seeming to echo in the vast mountains.
Dec and Micah were out there and, if the lightning and thunder were any sort of indication, they were about two minutes out from getting absolutely drenched. She tried not to worry over it, even as Penny crawled up onto the couch and buried her wet snout into Lily’s lap, shaking and shivering in her arms. The puppy probably wasn’t allowed anywhere near the couch on a good day, but she wasn’t old enough yet to know that thunder and lightning weren’t going to hurt her and if Lily was being honest, she liked Penny’s warm, fuzzy touch.
Because she was the one who was worried. The guys were professionals. They scaled cliffs, crossed rivers, drove ATVs and rode horses through these mountains with alarming regularity. Hell, they taught other people how to survive. And they had Axel and Rosie with them. They were going to be just fine.
Lily wasn’t so sure about herself. Carefully, she picked Penny up, stood and settled the dog back onto the couch. Then she grabbed another beer from the fridge before setting about making a fire in the grate. She was a little rusty, but the cabin’s firewood stock was healthy and, when she’d gotten the flame well and truly crackling, she headed out to the patio and fetched more wood inside, enough to last a day or two, if the power were to go out, which seemed all too likely. She found a cooler in the far closet, large enough to fill with ice packs then stack to the brim with all the meats in the freezer, the cheeses, milk and yogurt in the fridge. It wasn’t everything, but if—when—the power went out, it would keep a hell of a lot longer in the cooler than the fridge.
Then, while the electricity was still running, she rummaged through the kitchen drawers before she found a big box of candles in a cabinet under the sink. Psh, no tea lights for these guys, or the decorative wax candles she’d bought at the farmer’s market. No, they were survivalists, clear and plain.
That didn’t stop her from worrying, as the skies finally opened and sheets of rain began pouring down from the dark clouds covering the mountain range. She busied herself setting out the candles, trying not to jump at the cracks of lightning that illuminated the entire cabin, then the thunder pounding against the sky that followed it, echoed by Penny’s soft whines. They were out there, both of them. And they were going to come back safe, damn it to hell. And when they did, when, not if, she was going to be honest and upfront with Dec and Micah.
She wanted them. Both of them. She wanted them with such fierceness that she couldn’t think about anything else, except the way their hands might feel across her skin, the way their mouths, their fingers, their…
A sh
ot of heat filled her belly, low and anticipatory, and she turned on the radio, hoping for some music to drown out her thoughts. Instead, all she got was weather reports, how dangerous the mountains were right now, how much rain they expected, how it might even get cold enough for snow. She shut the radio off and muted the television when another emergency report came on for the weather. Hadn’t she left her iPad around here somewhere? That had music and no weather reports, nothing to remind her that Micah and Dec were out in the deluge and in real danger.
She plugged her music in and blasted her guilty pleasure. Though, of course, country music was only a guilty pleasure living in San Francisco. In Montana, it was pretty much the only music there was.
Miranda Lambert had just picked up when there was a shot of lightning then another, then one more in quick, almost violent succession. At first, Lily thought the sound that followed was thunder, but then she realized it was the creaking, groaning sound of the gigantic tree branch a little way down from the barn that was slowly, painstakingly slowly, beginning to break. She watched as it came free of the tree and smashed down hard against the half-dozen wires below, sending them careening to the ground in a tangled mess of splinters and dark rain.
Penny whined at the sound and Lily’s heart patterned in the same desperate rhythm as the lights around the room flickered, seized and died, the radio, TV and refrigerator all zapping into complete silence. Shit. Order of operations. She needed to get the dogs out of the barn. There was nothing she could do about the horses—even the large cabin wasn’t big enough for four grown horses—but the dogs, especially the puppies, were probably scared shitless. First light, then puppies. The fire was going strong in the grate and she walked around the rest of the room, lighting enough candles to give a warm, cozy glow.
It’d be a hell of a lot warmer and cozier if Micah and Dec were here.
But instead of worrying, she grabbed a handful of towels from the cabinet and arranged them on the kitchen floor, kissed Penny on the top of the head and pulled her dirty, muddy boots back on. In the closet, she found a windbreaker, Micah’s considering how far it fell down on her body, but it would keep her dry enough. In a moment of brilliance—hey, every victory she could get—she grabbed the empty laundry basket from the floor. Bella, Allie and Jasper could walk back to the house, but she had five puppies to contend with.
She opened the back door and was immediately hit with a whip of fast, wet wind. The rain smacked her skin and she yanked the hood down over her head, then stepped out into the fray. The barn wasn’t far from the house, usually less than a ten-minute walk, but every step was against the wind and it felt as though time slowed and the distance stretched endless before her. Still, she put one foot in front of the other, moving with slow and steady determination until the barn loomed in the distance, all the lights out and the windows rattling in the onslaught of wind and rain.
She’d gone one step at a time before, when Daniel had gotten sick, when she promised him she was never going to leave his side, no matter how the wind howled and the storm raged. And she hadn’t, not once had she considered any other option than being with him.
But as Lily wretched the barn door open and it slammed shut behind her in the wind, the soft, damp scents of horse and puppy invading her senses, she knew she had reached safe haven in that storm. The daily onslaught of grief that had followed his death was no longer raging so incredibly strong—or rather, it wouldn’t, if she allowed it to stop.
First, puppies. Jasper was pacing in his stall and Bella’s fur was up in the back, the only signs of agitation in the two older dogs. Of course, they were search and rescue dogs and the Black Reef Mountain range got thunderstorms and snowstorms. This wasn’t new to them. But Allie looked worried, the way only a mother, of any species, could, and she kept nudging the pups back into the middle of their stall, as if keeping them all in a wiggling pile before her was the only way they would be safe.
Lily grabbed a spare blanket from the stall’s hay floor and tucked it into the laundry basket then looked Allie in the eye. Allie wouldn’t attack, or rather, she had been trained not to from the time she was as young as her pups. But she was an agitated mother and worried about her young and Lily wanted her to know exactly how much she appreciated that.
“You’re coming with us,” she said to the dog. “We’re going to the house, we’ll be safe there.” Slowly, carefully, she moved her hand out for Allie to sniff. Allie was tentative but soon bent her nose and, after a moment, nuzzled Lily’s hand. Of course, Penny was in the house, she could probably smell Penny on Lily’s hands, the scent not washed away by the rain.
Taking her advantage, Lily began to scoop the wiggling pups in the basket then tucked the blanket over the top. They’d still get wet, but at least this way they would be a little protected from the storm. Allie was already at her side when Lily stood and hoisted the basket onto her hip, double checking her hold, before she called to Jasper and Bella. They came in an instant then all four of them and the basket of puppies headed for the door.
Had the storm gotten worse in the five minutes she’d been inside the barn? The wind rattled at the windows and knocked the door back and forth against its hold.
“You guys ready?” The dogs looked like they wanted to respond and their company fortified her. Dec and Micah were out in this rain with their dogs—she sure as shit could be, too. “To the house!”
They began a slow march back up the hill. Bella and Jasper ran ahead but never so far she couldn’t see them and Allie remained at Lily’s side, all but standing on two feet and picking the basket up herself. In a strange way, against the rain and the storm and the fear deep in her belly for the two men she found herself caring about more than she should, Lily felt honored by the dog’s approval of her as Puppy Carrier.
Eventually they made it, pulling up against the back of the cabin, where Jasper and Bella sat waiting for them. Tree limbs were down all over the patio and one of the larger ones had fallen right beside Micah’s truck, but she didn’t spot any other immediate signs of damage.
It was difficult to get the door open with her hands full of puppies, but she did, and the whole lot of them stumbled into the kitchen before she slammed the door shut hard against the wind. They were wet, cold and still all a little shaken from the storm, but they were safe.
Bella and Jasper settled onto the towels on the kitchen floor, both falling asleep after she gave them a quick rubdown. She tried to rub Allie down too, but the dog wouldn’t rest, sniffling and nuzzling at the basket until Lily began pulling the puppies out, drying them off and placing them on the ground, one by one.
Penny came over to join them, yipping and kissing at her siblings and mom, until they were all tired out and rolling around, yawning and stretching. Lily checked the food and water then closed up the kitchen grate—no point in six puppies running roughshod around the house. She pulled off the raincoat and hung it up to dry, then peeled off the muddy boots, her wet sweatshirt, soaked jeans and drenched socks.
Rather than going back to the room to grab more clothes, she stood in front of the fire, absorbing the heat. Shit, the power had been out an hour and already the temperature of the house was beginning to drop, more when the winds rattled the windows and cold air was sneaking in through every nook and cranny. Jesus Christ, she’d forgotten that her iPad was still playing music, the winds and whipping trees were so loud around the house, and she crossed the room to shut it off.
She was just about to give in to her panic about Dec and Micah. They would have called her if they weren’t coming home, wouldn’t they? Or maybe they had called the house phone, which was now about as useful as a parasol in the storm outside. But before she got the chance to feel truly nervous, she heard a sound, one that stood out over the madness of the raging wind, which meant it had to be either really loud or really close. If that wasn’t their ATVs coming down the mountain, bears had started using internal combustion engines.
For need of something to do, in th
e weight of relief swamping over her, she lit a half-dozen more candles. Should she set the kettle on, make some food? She settled on grabbing towels and, at the last moment, the first aid kit from the hall closet, and was just returning to the living room when the door swung open and the two men stalked into the cabin. Before they managed to get the door shut, a crack of lightning slanted across the sky, illuminating them from behind, and making both Dec and Micah look rugged, powerful and completely freaking exhausted.
Then the door slammed shut with the force of the wind, sending the cabin back into relative silence.
Lily dropped everything and ran over to Dec and Micah, wrapping her arms around both of them and not giving a damn about how wet they were or the fact that she was standing there in just a long-sleeved shirt and her underwear.
“You scared the shit out of me,” she said, her voice cracking just a little as relief rolled over her body at the physical proof that they were still alive, still totally okay.
“Shh, we’re okay, honey,” Dec said, using his free arm to push the hood down from his face. Micah did the same and she stepped back, a bit reluctantly, to let them take off their wet clothes and drop their gear to the floor. Axel and Rosie, who Lily hadn’t seen come in, in her fear for the men, shook off at their feet and headed for the food and water bowls without much fuss.
“It seems like you did all right here,” Micah said, dropping his soaked raincoat to the chair before starting on his boots. “Candles, fire, cooler and dogs? I’m impressed.”
Lily smiled, her face stiff. “Penny was freaking out and I figured the other puppies would be, too. So I went down about ten minutes ago and grabbed them. Wasn’t much hope for the horses.”
Dec rolled his eyes, a smile on his bone-weary face as he unabashedly began stripping right there in the kitchen.
