by Jane Porter
It took a minute for the phone to charge sufficiently to turn on. There was no lock on the phone, and very few apps. Basically the only thing on the phone seemed to be a folder with the name Ivy.
Ivy opened the folder and dozens of video icons appeared. She scrolled through them noting they were all dated, and she went to the oldest video, and tapped on the very first one, a video dated five months before her mother’s death.
The video began. Her mom came to life, thin, almost gaunt, her thick dark hair shot with silver, her expression somewhat self-mocking, as she spoke awkwardly, self-consciously into her phone.
Hi, Ivy, it’s Mom. I know this is weird. It’s a little weird for me, too, but there is so much I wanted to tell you, but I’ve been afraid that if I did, you’d want to come home, and I didn’t want that. You don’t need to be here, you need to be out living your life. This is your time, and this is your year. And I refuse to let me being sick, interfere with your best year, and what a year it is. So proud of you, Ivy. You and Belle are having an incredible year. Give your girl a big kiss from me.
And then another video, a few weeks after that. Ivy, I watched you ride tonight on TV and I couldn’t have been prouder. Just keep that hat brim level and you’ll be bringing home a lot more trophies.
Ivy skipped forward to one of the last videos. Her mom was beyond thin. She looked gray, skeletal, and yet her hazel eyes were clear and her voice steady.
Ivy, I knew this was your year. I could feel it in my bones. I would love to see you ride in Las Vegas this year, but at least I have seen you ride almost every weekend.
I am dying, Ivy. There is nothing to be done now. There is nothing anyone can do. I have tried everything, and I have fought hard, but the time to fight is over.
I’ve been told I have a few weeks, but it could also be days, and so I’m cleaning out the house, trying to prepare things so it will be easier for you once I’m gone.
So no tears, no grieving, no fuss. You know how I hate fuss. Be strong for me. I love you so much, more than you’ll ever know.
Your forever fan,
Mom
Ivy put down the phone, and walked out of the living room, grabbing her coat on the way. She walked across the yard to the old barn. The barn was quiet and cool and, even empty, still smelled of hay and feed. She slipped into the stall that used to be Belle’s and sat on the ground, knees pulled up to her chest and rested her head on her knees and cried.
And cried.
She cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.
Her eyes felt swollen and her nose was running and she took an old crumpled tissue from her coat pocket to wipe her nose and try to dry her face.
Time passed—she had no idea how much time—until little by little she realized she wasn’t alone. Even though it was almost dusk, she could feel Sam there, outside the stall. She had no idea how long he’d been there, but suspected it had been awhile. “Go away,” she said hoarsely.
“No.”
“I don’t want you here.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Not right now.” She hiccupped, and drew a rough, raw breath. “I am so mad at you. So mad.”
“I know.”
“You had this all this time. You had this card and these videos… You had everything I needed.”
“I know.”
“Did you know what was in this envelope?”
The stall door creaked as he leaned on it. “I didn’t know about all the videos. I knew about one, because she asked me to hold the phone and record the last one.”
For a long time Ivy couldn’t speak, filled with far too many intense emotions, overwhelmed by her racing heart and the pain splintering inside of her. “How did she die? Who was with her? Was she alone?”
“No.”
“Who was with her at the end?”
Sam didn’t even hesitate. “I was.”
Ivy exhaled hard, eyes on fire, heart on fire. She didn’t know if she loved him or hated him in that moment. “Please tell me. Please tell me what happened… at the end.”
“It was all very calm, very quiet. That morning she made her last video for you, and then said she was tired. I took her hand and she closed her eyes. After a couple of hours she was gone.”
“You were holding her hand when she died?”
“Once I took it, I never let it go.”
Ivy felt raw anguish, but also relief. Thank God. Thank God Sam had been there, sitting with her. “She wasn’t in pain?” Ivy whispered.
“She’d been given morphine, but she was fairly lucid that morning. She knew I was there. She wanted to make a last video.”
Fresh tears filled Ivy’s eyes. All this time she’d feared her mom had suffered. She’d worried her mom had been afraid. But to know that Sam had been there helped immensely. If she couldn’t be there, there was no one else she would have wanted with her mom, but Sam.
Strong, honest, loyal Sam Wyatt.
Her Sam Wyatt.
“It couldn’t have been easy for you,” she said huskily.
“It wasn’t hard, because I loved her, and I love you.”
Ivy’s chest burned. Her throat felt raw. She rested her head on her knees, wiping tears that fell. Today had been a day of surprises and revelations but it also explained some things, giving closure. “I still should have been there.”
“I agree.” Sam’s voice deepened. “If I could do it over again, I’d call you. I’d ask you to come. I wouldn’t let your mom’s feelings be more important than yours.”
“She’s hard to say no to.”
“You’re telling me.”
Ivy looked up, rubbed at her cheeks. Her face felt swollen. Her eyes burned. Her nose burned. She felt as if she’d been hit by a truck. “Can I ask you about one more thing?”
“Absolutely.”
“You said you love me, not loved. Not past tense. But love.”
“Yes.”
She studied him in the dim light. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes.”
She extended a hand, and he took it, pulling her easily to her feet. Facing him, she searched his blue eyes. “Platonic love or…”
“Or.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Most definitely or.”
Ivy blushed. “I’m glad, because my feelings are not at all platonic, either. I’m crazy about you, Sam. I love you so much.”
Sam carefully wiped the tears drying on her cheeks. “I know.”
“You do?”
“You’re not that hard to read.”
“Oh.”
“I do have a solution, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Marry me. Let’s stop this madness and get married soon.”
“How soon?”
“After Christmas.”
Her brow creased. “You’re closing your place after Christmas.”
“But I’ll be back before New Year’s.”
“We could get married New Year’s Eve, or New Year’s Day—”
“How do we plan a wedding in a week?”
“Keep it small, just family. Or, we could go to the courthouse, get married by a judge like Joe and Sophie did.”
“That’s not romantic. Why not at the ranch?”
“As long as it’s not in the stable. I know how much you love horses.”
Ivy laughed, amused, and beyond happy. “But you are serious, right? You really want to marry me?”
“Yes. Next week. Why wait? You love me. I love you. We’re meant to be together.”
“We are,” she agreed. “I just hate that I let my pride get in the way.
“We both did,” he said.
“But we’re not the same people we were before,” she said quietly.
“No, we’re not. We’ve changed.” He pushed back a tendril of her hair from her cheek. “Do you feel rushed into marriage, though? If you’re not ready—”
“I’m ready. I just wonder if you think I need to be on my own awhile. Maybe prove that I’m able to be independent, that
I don’t need anyone.”
He made a rough raspy sound that sounded an awful lot like muffled laughter. “Is that what you want to do? Prove to me you don’t need me? Because I thought that’s what you’ve been doing for the past couple of years.”
“Unsuccessfully,” she muttered, putting her hand on his chest to push him away but then stroking the hard muscular plane over his heart. He felt so good. He felt like everything she’d ever wanted, and missed. “Wes—”
“Do we really have to talk about him? I hate him. I want to put my fist into his face and keep doing that until—”
“Okay, let’s not talk about Wes.” She kissed Sam’s chin, and then rose up on tiptoe to kiss his lips. “And you’re not just saying you love me and want to marry me because you saw me crying my eyes out in Belle’s old stall?”
“Was this her stall?”
Ivy nodded.
“I’m sorry. I know you loved her.” And then he hugged her. “Incidentally, I’m proposing for purely selfish reasons. I’m crazy about you, and I miss you. I want you back where you belong… in my life, in my truck, in my bed.”
“And your heart?” she asked hopefully.
He stroked a tendril of hair back from her brow. “Babe, you never left my heart. You’ve been there every moment of every day for the past two years. Trust me when I say I’ve had a heck of a time figuring out how to live without you.”
“Then don’t.”
*
They stopped for dinner at a diner in Billings, and then continued on to Pray, arriving back on the ranch late. All the lights were still on, but now that they’d reached the Wyatt Ranch, Ivy wasn’t ready to go inside. “Can we just talk for a minute?” she asked as he parked next to his brothers’ trucks.
“Of course.”
“You’re still going to close on your Cody ranch.”
“Yes.”
“So shouldn’t we go live in Cody then? It’s what you’d wanted—”
“Ivy, no. It wouldn’t be good for you, and it wouldn’t be good for your business. I’m pretty isolated. It’s land, great land, but there aren’t any neighbors, and there wouldn’t be little girls to train.”
“I’m sure I could find someone.”
He smiled. “I’m sure you could, but that’s not the point. I want you to be happy.”
“Sam, I’ll be happy wherever you are.”
“But I won’t be happy if I take you from here.”
“And yet neither of us have a place here.”
“So we sell both of our places, and buy a new ranch together, something that we will both like. Something that will meet both of our needs.”
Ivy felt a stirring of excitement. “Where would we look for a place?”
“I think we’ve already been looking at places together, places we liked.”
“You mean on Saturday? When we were driving around looking at horse ranches before we went to Ashley’s?”
“We saw a couple places we both really liked.”
Ivy immediately thought about the gorgeous place up near Clyde Park. “Some of them were very expensive.”
“A few were, but when we pool our resources, and sell the other properties, we’ll be able to afford a nice place. Maybe even one of those ‘dream places.’”
The bubble of excitement grew within her. Options and possibilities sparkled. Ivy liked to think she was pretty grounded, but right now she felt as if she’d drunk a bottle of golden champagne. Everything felt fizzy and light within her. “But those places—regardless of price range—they’re all rather close to your family’s ranch.” She looked at him, trying to keep her expression neutral. “And I know you don’t want to live in your family’s back pocket. You said you wanted space, and a chance to be your own person. I’m worried that getting a place in Park County or Crawford County might be too close to the Wyatt Ranch.”
“I don’t have to be hours away from them. Thirty minutes, forty-five, that could be okay. It’d be nice to be able to join everyone for a birthday dinner, or even just a Sunday family dinner, because you’re right, I won’t have my mom and grandad forever. Who knows what the future will bring? Things happen, accidents and illness happen, and the most important people in my life are you and my family. And I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to lose them, and if Joe and Sophie have a baby, I want to be a good uncle. If you and I have kids, I want my kids to know their relatives.”
“Yes.” She leaned into him. “I agree with every word you’re saying.”
He smoothed her hair back from her brow, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Yeah?”
“We’re going to have our own place,” she said happily.
“Yes.”
“And when we’re done competing, we’ll be able to do the things we love. Cattle, horses, family.”
He kissed her. “Best of all, it’s going to be you and me.”
Chapter Eleven
Ivy was still asleep when Sophie knocked on her bedroom door. “Merry Christmas,” Sophie said, opening the door. “Wake up, sleepy head.”
Ivy groaned, not wanting to wake. She’d been in the middle of the most wonderful dream. She and Sam had married and had found a house and they were raising her horses and competing again, and they were so very happy. “What time is it?” she asked, yawning and stretching.
“Seven thirty and breakfast will be ready soon. Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“There’s no sleeping in around here.”
“On a ranch or farm? Come on, you know better.”
Ivy dressed and headed over to the main house. Christmas breakfast was just as noisy, boisterous and high-spirited as every other meal at the Wyatt house. Tommy and Billy were in particularly fine form too, teasing, bantering, having a painfully good time at everyone else’s expense.
Ivy sat next to Sam, and he held her hand under the table. She didn’t have much appetite, still giddy from the night before. Were they really getting married? Would they marry soon?
She was ready, more than ready, to take this next step, anxious to make up for lost time. The last few years had been hard but they’d taught her invaluable lessons, lessons that would help her the rest of her life.
At some point, she’d watch the rest of the videos from her mom, but she’d wait until she was ready for that. The videos were a lovely gift, but they weren’t easy, bringing back the pain and loss. Worse was seeing her mom waste away over the final months of her life. Maybe she didn’t need to watch them all. She had memories of her mom, good memories she carried within her, and maybe that love was enough.
After breakfast everyone topped off their coffee and headed into the living room for stockings and gifts. There were stockings at the mantel for everyone, including Melvin and Summer. Tommy passed the stockings out then and even found one with Ivy’s name on it.
The felt stockings were lumpy things and Ivy smiled as Sam’s brothers emptied theirs. It was exactly what you’d expect grown men to get. Socks, boxers, razors, shaving cream, along with some fruit, gum, and candied nuts. Billy immediately peeled his mandarin orange and began to eat it. Tommy wasted no time opening his candied pecans.
Sam gave her a little nudge. “Aren’t you going to see what’s in yours?”
Ivy smiled. “Yes. I’m just savoring it all. This is really lovely. I’ve never had a Christmas like this.”
“Come on, Ivy, open your stocking. Let’s see what kind of underwear Santa brought you,” Tommy said.
Sam immediately gave him a dirty look. Tommy and Billy laughed. Even Joe was smiling.
Blushing, Ivy ignored them. “What did you get in your stocking, Sophie?” Ivy asked, fairly sure that she and Sophie had been given the same things.
“I haven’t opened mine yet either,” Sophie said. “I’m not sure I’m brave enough.”
“You’ll be okay,” Joe said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Sophie reached into her stocking and pulled out a knit cap, hand lotion, ChapStick, fruit, and c
andy nuts. And then she reached back in and, brow furrowed, she pulled out a colorful plastic baby rattle.
The room went quiet.
Joe took the plastic rattle from Sophie. “What is this?”
Ivy slowly smiled. She glanced at Sam and he smiled at her. She smiled back. Sophie was pregnant.
Looking around the room everyone seemed to understand but Joe. He was baffled. “I don’t get it,” he said.
Sam laughed. “Joe, think about it.”
Sophie leaned close to Joe and whispered in his ear. He jumped to his feet. “We’re having a baby?”
Sophie nodded. “He or she will be coming late May.”
“I can’t believe it. You’re serious?”
She nodded. “I didn’t know what to get you for Christmas, so I thought… why not a baby?”
Everyone laughed, and Joe and Sophie disappeared from the room and everyone talked about the first Wyatt baby in twenty-something years. Ivy was caught up in the excitement as well. Sophie and Joe would be such great parents.
And then Grandad spoke up, making himself heard over the hum of voices. “Ivy hasn’t yet opened her stocking. Ivy, it’s your turn.”
Ivy reached into her stocking and pulled out a scarf and mittens set, a mandarin orange, candied nuts, hand lotion and ChapStick, and then, reaching back in, she felt a little square box. The box felt like velvet. She pulled it out; the box was black and very elegant. She held it in her hands a moment, afraid to open it and be disappointed. What if it wasn’t a ring? What if it was a necklace or earrings—which of course would be lovely—but what she wanted, more than anything, was an engagement ring.
Sam took the box from her, and opening it, he knelt in front of her.
Ivy heard Tommy and Billy shout, but she only had eyes for Sam.
“Ivy, will you marry me?” he asked.
It was the most simple of words, straight and to the point, and yet they were absolutely perfect. Ivy leaned forward, clasped Sam’s handsome face between her hands. “Yes, oh yes, yes, yes,” she cried, before kissing him.
Sam slid the ring on her finger and Ivy began to cry.
“She’s not pregnant, too, is she?” Billy said loudly, wanting to be heard.
