Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 2)

by Abigail Davies

  I turn my head toward him, focusing on what he’s saying and silently telling him not to drag on, knowing she won’t be able to stand for the long period of time it usually takes.

  We say our vows and those magic words, “You may kiss the bride,” are announced. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her to me and relishing in the feel of her body against mine.

  I press my lips against hers, trailing my tongue along the seam and trying but failing to hold in the groan as her tongue meets mine.

  Hoots and hollers sound around us, causing both of our lips to spread into huge smiles when we pull away. Framing her face with my hands, I whisper, “I love you, Mrs. Cole.”

  “I love you, too, Mr. Cole.” Her grip on my biceps tighten as she murmurs, “I need to sit now though.”

  A mischievous look crosses my face before I bend and scoop her into my arms. She lets out a laugh, tipping her head back as we turn toward our family and friends, seeing everyone cheering for us.

  I clear my throat. “If everyone could go home now, I’d like to spend time with my wife.”

  Amelia slaps me on the chest. “You horn dog!” she shouts, but her tone is light as she wraps her hand around the back of my neck, lowering her voice. “There’ll be enough time for that later.”

  I throw my head back laughing as I carry her down the aisle and over to the tent that’s been set up for the reception. I know the tradition is to stand and thank everybody for coming and to do photographs, but they can wait for an hour while she rests. If it was up to me, I’d take her to our room and let her sleep—no, that’s a lie, we wouldn’t get any sleep.

  Once I’ve got her sitting down at the head table, I kneel down, placing my hands on her knees, knowing she can feel it now. “I’m going to go and tell the caterers there’s a change in schedule.”

  I go to stand back up, but her hand on my arm stops me. “What?”

  “You need to rest for an hour. We’ll do drinks and speeches now, and then photographs, and then we’ll eat.” Tilting my head, I ask, “Is that okay?”

  She worries her bottom lip as all of the guests walk into the tent, but I can see the tiredness on her face. “Yeah, okay.”

  Nodding, I place one last kiss on her lips before walking over to Tris and telling him the plan, watching briefly as he walks over to my wife—my wife. I’ll never get tired of saying that.

  When everyone finds their seats, I tap my glass to get their attention. “Hi, everyone. Thank you for coming today to celebrate with us, as you can see, the program has changed slightly, so without further ado, I’ll hand you over to the best man for the first speech.”

  Tris clears his throat, smiling at us before taking the mic from me and addressing everyone. “Now, I’m not one for giving lengthy speeches so you’re in luck.” Everyone chuckles. “I’ve known Nate ever since he had long flowing hair in college.”

  Amelia bursts out laughing. “Now that I have to see.”

  “I have lots of photos,” Dad says, leaning across the table.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose as Tris continues. “He’s always been the joker, the class clown, and nothing’s changed. But I’m sure everyone would agree we wouldn’t have him any other way. He’s an incredible friend that was there for me during one of the hardest times of my life, never leaving my side, even when I was pushing him away.”

  Amelia elbows me in the ribs. “Sounds familiar.”

  I smile and kiss her on her temple, turning my attention back to Tris as his gaze connects with mine. “I never did thank him, but I don’t think I need to.” I shake my head in confirmation. “And then there’s Amelia who turned up on my doorstep, answering an ad when I was starting my journey as a single father. She’s been there every step of the way: helping me raise my kids. She’s the little sister I never had.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “I’ve never seen a more deserving couple of a happy ending than you two, and I know with each other at your sides, you’ll have that.” He raises his glass before he says, “To the happy couple.”

  Everyone chants back with the same sentiment as Tris sits down, giving me a subtle nod and reaching over to take Amelia’s hand to squeeze it.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What?” I ask Amelia, spinning around to face her.

  She tilts her head, whispering, “Dad’s turn.”

  My eyes widen as her dad stands to his full height, clearing his throat to gain everyone’s attention.

  “Hi, I’m Sheriff—No, wrong audience.” There’s a collection of chuckles as he adjusts his tie, his gaze searching the room before coming to a stop on me and Amelia. “My little girl.” His voice seems to be lost to memories as he stares at her. “I’ll be the first person to admit I didn’t want you here; I wanted you to come home after...” He shakes his head, batting away the same thoughts I find myself stuck in sometimes. “But watching how you are with each other: how much Nate’s love shines through, I know letting you go and trusting you in Nate’s hands was the right thing to do.” He looks over at Jan. “I hope you have many happy years, just like us.” He turns back toward us. “Congratulations.” He starts to sit down but stops, narrowing his eyes at me. “But you just remember I’m a sheriff, son. If you hurt her, I know how to cover up a murder.” He raises his brow and I swallow audibly, giving him a nod of confirmation.

  He finally sits down and all conversation starts back up before the caterers bring the food out. I sit with my hand on Amelia’s thigh the whole time, her hand covering mine as she talks away with Maya and Izzie, their conversations full of the most random things: the new Disney movie, dresses, tiaras, and football?

  I frown when I hear Maya say, “Jake,” and when I look over at them, finishing my dessert, I ask, “Jake?”

  Maya’s panicked gaze meets Amelia’s before flitting to mine. “Nate.” The tone of her voice makes it clear I’m not going to like what she’s about to say. “Amelia said I could invite him.”

  “Okay,” I answer, already knowing this and wondering what the big deal is and why she’s looking so frantic. “Where is he? I’d like to meet him.”

  “I… erm…”

  “Yeah,” Dad pipes up. “I want to meet the famous Jake, too.”

  “I… I…” Her gaze flits across the room, and when I follow the same path, I land on a guy that definitely can’t be Jake because he looks about twenty.

  “Tell him to come over,” I say, knowing I must be looking at the wrong person, but when Amelia whispers something to her and she stands up, she walks over to said guy and stops next to him.

  “What the—”

  “Nate…” I refuse to look at Amelia as I stand up, my dad not far behind me when Jake wraps his arm around my sister’s waist. My sixteen-year-old baby sister. “Nate!” she calls again, and this time she gains my attention. “It’s not what you think—”

  “How old is he?” I bang my palm on the table. “He’s touching—”

  “Leave it,” she grinds out. “He’s a senior.”

  Shaking my head, I push my chair out, taking a step away as Amelia stands too, albeit slower than I do.

  “I want to dance.” I stumble to a stop three steps away, my head turning between Maya and Amelia. When I hesitate, she says, “I want to have my first dance with my husband.” I soften at the look in her eyes, blowing out a frustrated breath. There’s no way I’ll deny her the first dance, even if I know it’s a tactic to distract me.

  With a sigh, I walk back toward her and kiss her hand before calling over to Maya, my hand clenching as she kisses the dirty-blond-headed guy she’s standing with and heads over to us.

  “Yeah?” She looks down at the ground and I sigh.

  “Get your butt up on stage and serenade us with your beautiful voice.”

  I kiss Amelia’s hand as Maya walks in the direction of the stage and I walk over to the DJ. He takes his headset off when I reach him. “What can I do for you?”

  “Can we do the first dance?”

  “Sure.” He pi
cks up the microphone as the music cuts out. “Ladies and gentlemen, can we please all gather around the dance floor for the first dance.”

  Amelia beams at me as I walk over, offering her my hand. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Cole?”

  She stretches her arm out, her warm palm landing in mine. “You may.”

  I lead her over to the makeshift dance floor, the lights surrounding it twinkling in her eyes as she wraps her arms around my neck. I pull her up flush against me as the first chords of Maya’s guitar flows through me, my fingers brushing along the curve of her bare back.

  “Are you cold?” I ask when she shivers.

  She shakes her head, her gaze snapping over to the stage when Maya starts singing. She gasps. “Oh my God, Maya’s singing.” I look over, seeing Maya’s eyes closed as she sings the lyrics to an acoustic version of Can’t Help Falling In Love With You by Elvis. “This song is so beautiful.”

  Her eyes flutter closed as Maya’s raspy voice surrounds us and I hum along with it as I sway us gently, contented to watch her in my arms.

  “I can’t believe you’re dancing,” I say, shaking my head. “When? How?” I want to bombard her with questions but I press my lips together when she smiles.

  “The day you proposed I felt a small spot on my foot.” We gently sway to the left. “I went and saw Doctor Bale the next day and he did some tests.” I listen intently as she connects her gaze to mine. “The swelling had started to go down on my spinal cord which meant the nerves were starting to work again.”

  “But that was only two months ago.”

  She nods her head. “He said I could regain feeling again over a couple of weeks or over a couple of months but I should get all the feeling back now.” She pauses. “There’s still a couple of spots I can’t feel but…”

  I move my head closer to her, my lips a hairsbreadth from hers. “But you can walk.”

  “I can.” She closes her eyes as I place a kiss on her lips.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask when I pull back.

  Her cheeks redden as she clears her throat. “I wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

  I raise a brow, a smirk lifting up the corner of my lips. “Oh yeah? And what would that be?”

  She screws up her nose. “Surprises.”

  My head snaps back as I let out a burst of laughter, my stomach cramping at the abruptness of it before I connect my gaze back to her shimmering eyes.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  I smirk. “For what?”

  She motions to everything around us with one hand before wrapping it back around my neck. “For all of this.”

  “Well, I can’t take all of the credit. I did have a lot of help from some very persistent women.” My eyes scan the crowd seeing my mom, dad, Carl, and Jan standing together before moving back to her. I brush my nose against hers gently. “I love you more than life itself, Lia.”

  “I love you, too,” she replies. “For giving me my life back; for not leaving when you could have; for sticking beside me every step of the way… but most of all; I love you for being you.”

  My fingers whisper up her back to the base of her neck. “Well you’re stuck with me now because I’m not going anywhere.”

  I lean closer and everyone cheers when Amelia closes the gap between us, stopping a hairsbreadth from my lips, whispering, “Good, because loving you is like breathing. I won’t be able to stop, even if I tried.”

  Holding my hand out, I call, “Come on, Lucas,” looking behind me as he runs at me, colliding with my legs before he takes my hand. His green eyes—the same as his father's—look up at me, his long lashes batting against his chubby cheeks when he looks down at a leaf crunching under his foot.

  He picks it up, presumably to bring it home and add it to all the others he “rehomes.”

  His head springs back up and his eyes widen as he shouts, “Frankie!”

  He lets go of my hand, running at a nine-year-old Frankie, his little four-year-old legs carrying him as fast as they can.

  I smile as Frankie catches him, swinging him up in the air before placing him back on the ground at the end of the aisle he’s standing at with Tris, Harm, and Izzie.

  Stumbling to a stop when I feel a twinge in my back, I place my hand on my swollen, pregnant stomach.

  Two arms wrap around me from behind, their hands covering mine. “You should be sitting down, not chasing after him,” Nate murmurs in my ear, his breath fanning across my neck.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him, turning in his embrace but not being able to reach him fully because of the bump.

  “You’re carting around two little people, you need to relax.” He raises a brow, the sound of hundreds of high school kids surrounding us as they make their way to the chairs in front of the stage in their caps and gowns.

  “You don’t have to remind me.” I roll my eyes, spinning around and letting him guide me over to where everyone is waiting. “I’m the one who has them punching and kicking my ribs.”

  He places a kiss on my neck as we stop at the end of our designated aisle.

  “Aunt Amelia!” Izzie shouts, sounding as much like the six-year-old she used to be, only now she’s fifteen and looking more and more like the pictures of her mother every day.

  “Hey, Iz.” I wrap her up in a hug when she stands, moving over and doing the same to Tris, Charlotte, Edward, and Harm, holding my fist out to Frankie because he’s too cool for hugs right now.

  “You’re so big!” Harmony shouts above all of the noise, only it’s at the same time the dean walks onto the stage and stands at the podium, the crowd quieting immediately but turning toward Harmony as I sit down. My cheeks heat to epic proportions, embarrassment rolling through me. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” She buries her head in her hands, groaning as Tris reaches out and pulls her to his chest, his rumble of laughter escaping his throat.

  My gaze catches Clay’s where he’s sitting in the front row, two strips of gold material hanging over his shoulders. His lips lift slightly, a ghost of a smile gracing his face before he turns back around to face the stage.

  Clearing my throat as Izzie giggles beside me, I say, “It’s okay. I am huge… only eight weeks to go.”

  I give her a soft smile when she lifts her head and opens her mouth, but she’s cut off by the dean as he starts his speech to the graduating class.

  We all turn toward the front, giving him all of our attention as he starts to call the students’ names out.

  “Clayton Carter, valedictorian.”

  We all cheer and whoop as Clay walks onto the stage and is handed his diploma. I squeeze Amelia’s hand as happy tears roll down her cheeks. “You’re so emotional.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “It’s the hormones.”

  Lucas, our four-year-old, squirms on my knee and I grasp onto him tighter, whispering in his ear. “I know it’s boring but I have something in the car for you if you’re good for a little longer, bud.”

  His eyes light up and he makes the motion as if he’s zipping his lips up as I turn my attention back toward the stage, only being distracted as Amelia sucks in a breath beside me.

  “Are you okay?”

  She squirms in her seat. “Yeah, just my back playing up again. I’ll be fine as soon as I can stretch my legs.”

  I nod and squeeze her leg. Even though it’s been eight years, she still has the odd twinge in her back. Being pregnant with our twin boys isn’t helping her any either.

  There hasn’t been a moment in our lives so far where we haven’t worked things out together, and we’ll only continue to do so. I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss her knuckles tenderly. “I love you more every day, Lia.”

  She gives me a contented smile and we turn just as the caps are thrown into the air after Clay’s valedictorian speech. I hoist Lucas up onto my hip and clap along with everyone else, nodding over at Tris to say congratulations.

  We’ve all had our trials and tribulations, but we got there in th
e end.

  “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry I’m late.” I turn toward Maya’s rushed voice, seeing her blow her hair out of her face as she looks toward the front. “Did I miss everything?”

  I open my arm I’m not holding Lucas in for her to hug me. I haven’t seen her for months because she’s been away on tour. “Don’t worry, there’s still the after party.” I kiss her forehead. “Good to see you, Maybug.”

  “Maya!” Amelia squeals, reaching over us and pulling Maya into a bruising hug. “I’ve missed you!”

  Maya chuckles and pulls back, looking down at Amelia’s stomach. “I’ve—Jesus! You really are cooking two in there, aren’t you?”

  I hiss in a breath as Amelia’s eyes narrow. I lean over and whisper, “Sensitive subject,” in Maya’s ear.

  She covers her mouth before holding her hands out for a squirming Lucas and facing the front. “Hey, bud. Remember your favorite aunt?”

  “Hey!” Harm calls, smiling to show she’s joking.

  Maya laughs before trying to see over the crowd, presumably looking for Clay. Her eyes widen and she ducks her face when a guy with dirty-blond hair walks past, but it’s too late because he does a double take at her, stopping at the end of our row.

  “Maya? Maya Cole?”

  “Shit,” Maya hisses under her breath before she hands Lucas back to me. Her cheeks heating slightly before she brings her head back up, staring at the guy that looks familiar but I can’t seem to place him.

  Her hands intertwine in front of her as she turns toward him, her chest stuttering as she tries to take a breath before she whispers, “Jake.”

  Afterword

  There were many songs and bits of information that inspired us while we wrote Fighting Our Way. Check them all out here.

  Spotify Playlist

  Pinterest Board

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