One Hundred Reasons

by Kelly Collins

  “I don’t really—”

  “You do tonight.”

  She moved to the upbeat tempo, and Sage found herself getting lost in the moment. She looked to the bar and found Cannon staring at her. It wasn’t the stare of a bar owner making sure his patrons were okay, but the look of an interested man, and a rush of heat flooded through her.

  “You like him, don’t you?” Katie followed Sage’s eyes to Cannon.

  “He has his moments.”

  “Then what are you doing over here with me? Get going, you.” Katie moved to the pool table and left Sage on her own.

  Back at the bar, Otis no longer lay curled on the floor. Her heart beat fast in a panicked rhythm. “Otis.” She bent over, looking under tables.

  “He’s okay, he’s right here.” Cannon pointed to the floor in front of him.

  Being height-challenged, Sage climbed onto the bar to see. “How did that happen?” In the corner lay Otis, curled around Mike. The two slept perfectly, as if they’d been raised together.

  “They say opposites attract.”

  “If that’s possible,” she nodded toward the animals, “I’m bringing the bird here tomorrow.” It was only a joke, but if Cannon’s dark look was any indication, he didn’t find her comment humorous.

  “You won’t give Aspen Cove a try?” Did she hear a hint of hope in his voice?

  “It was a joke. I told you I’d stay until the bird healed.”

  “What happens after?”

  Her gut twisted. She didn’t have a plan. “I don’t know. I’m taking it one day at a time.”

  “Fair enough.” The shadow of disappointment disappeared. “Katie seems to be settling in okay.”

  She looked at the woman whom she’d found only a few days ago crying into the sleeve of her sweater. Gone were the tears, and in their place hope and potential filled her bright blue eyes. In her hand was the microphone. It was karaoke night, and Katie was the entertainment.

  “She makes a mean muffin,” Sage said, thinking about Katie’s morning delivery. “Any idea of who’s leaving supplies on her doorstep?”

  “I imagine it could be anyone who received a pink envelope. Just because Bea died, doesn’t mean her generosity did.”

  “So, the pink envelopes, they weren’t necessarily for the people who received them?” she fished for answers.

  “You tell me. Was your pink envelope for you?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sage returned home from the bar but didn’t bother taking off her jacket. She walked in the front door, heard the newlyweds, and steered Otis to the kitchen. With pockets full of Milk-Bones and a thermos full of brewed coffee, she took her seat by the water.

  Crisp air filled her lungs. Crickets songs sang in her ears. A mural of stars hung in the crystal clear sky. Otis sat dutifully at her feet, not because he was well behaved, but because he loved treats. She hoped the couple would tire out early tonight. It was past nine, and she didn’t want to spend another night like last night. Then again, last night was pleasant—more than pleasant, if she was honest with herself.

  That was the problem, Sage, although honest with others, often told herself the biggest lies. Her relationship with Todd was a doozy. In hindsight, they were no more than roommates who had sex together. They shared an apartment, an occupation, and their bodies. She found him on the bulletin board at work, looking for a roomie. Everything happened rather quickly. She wanted it to be more, but she should have known it never would be. Todd looked after Todd. Sage looked after Todd. It was a good deal for Todd.

  When her pockets were empty, Otis trolled the beach for something else. He came back with a stick. For the next half hour, they played fetch until he got worn out and collapsed at her feet.

  She looked across the lake and wondered about the people who lived in the lit-up houses. Were they happy? Did they have full lives, or were they like her, still looking for that one thing that would change their existence?

  Otis’s deep, low growl stopped all thoughts about her past life and set her focus on this one. “What is it, boy?”

  Low and halting, he snarled into the blackness of the night.

  Sage hadn’t thought much about dangerous wildlife. She’d seen birds. A rabbit or two scurry from bush to bush, and there was the beautiful buck, but she hadn’t considered anything dangerous. How stupid can you get? You’re in the mountains, and with that comes predators like bears, mountain lions, and wolves.

  Moving slowly, she reached for the thermos. It was as close to a weapon as she could get. Otis rose up on all threes. Sage’s heart exploded inside her chest cavity. There was no way she’d be supper for a beast. Movement on her left had her brandishing the thermos like a bat and swinging into the darkness to connect with nothing.

  Instead of a hungry bear or lion was the shadow of a man on Cannon’s dock. His clothes flew through the air. Is that Ben? There was no time to speculate. A pale body disappeared with a splash into the freezing water. Then nothing. No paddling. No movement. Silence.

  Trained to react, Sage ran toward the end of the dock. With a sliver of a moon, it was difficult to see anything. She scanned the surface for any disturbance and then saw the rise of a few bubbles. Without thinking, she kicked off her shoes and dove into the cold water. If it was Ben Bishop, and Sage could help him, he would not die tonight.

  Frigid water wrapped around her, its iciness so intense, it burned. She searched, arms reaching through the dark water to find the body. She couldn’t get a full breath, but she dove below the murky surface anyway. The cold and lack of visibility made her task impossible. Up for air, she stilled and listened. Her muscles atrophied and lungs ached, but she wouldn’t give up. To her left, a body broke the surface, coughing and sputtering for its next breath.

  “I’m here.” She reached him in three strokes. “Don’t fight me, Ben. I’m not in the mood for you tonight.” Her right arm wrapped around his chest. She used the lifeguard training Grandma Dotty had insisted on when she was a teen.

  It took her five minutes to get him to shore, another two to get him pulled out of the water. She collapsed on her bottom and pulled the underwear-clad man into her arms.

  “I couldn’t do it,” he cried. “I was so close to finally being with Carly.”

  On the muddy bank, she wrapped her arms around Ben and listened while he cried. Despite the crisp air, it was warmer outside than in the water. Steam rose from their bodies.

  Otis did his share by sidling up next to her, but within minutes she was shaking uncontrollably. Her teeth chattered so much, her jaw hurt.

  “Ben, I n-n-need to g-g-get you inside. You’re g-g-going to g-g-get hypothermia.”

  He tried to shrug her off, but she held on tighter. “Just leave me here and let me die.”

  “I won’t.” She planted her heels into the mud and inched them back. “You need to help me.”

  “Just let me go.” Ben curled into a ball and sobbed.

  “I can’t.” She pulled her wet coat off and wrapped it around him. It was only a matter of time before they’d both be in trouble. She thought about letting him go long enough to grab some blankets from the house, but she feared he’d only enter the water again. She’d never be able to save him twice.

  Instead, she pulled Otis closer and soaked in the body heat he offered.

  Despite Ben’s dip in the lake, he smelled like a distillery. She rocked him back and forth while she listened to him cry about losing the love of his life.

  It occurred to her that Aspen Cove was a town of sad people, and maybe that was why Bea thought she’d fit in. Deep sorrow was etched into every one of Sage’s cells. It was bad enough to carry it around; she didn’t want to be surrounded by it. No, that was another reason Sage couldn’t stay. Monday when she went to pay her debt to Doc, she’d ask him to put the property up for sale.

  “What the hell?” Cannon yelled. He raced to the spot where the water lapped at his father’s bare feet.

  “Thank G-god. I couldn’
t get him to m-move inside. I can’t c-carry him.” She looked down at Ben, who had passed out in her lap. “He’s out, b-but he’s f-f-freezing.”

  Cannon bent over and lifted his father like he weighed nothing. He looked at her. “Can you walk?”

  “Yes.” Every muscle in her body screamed no, but she pulled herself to standing, and she and Otis followed Cannon into his house.

  He nodded toward a pellet stove. “Go stand in front of the stove. I’ll be right back.”

  Sage held her hands forward and soaked in the heat that rose from the cast iron box. Bea’s house had central heat and a fireplace. Cannon’s place burned wood pellets. She’d wondered where the smell of burning wood came from each night.

  In-between shudders, she looked around the house. Clean and tidy, it reminded her of the bed and breakfast. The furniture was old but sturdy. Bookshelves lined one wall. Interspersed with books were whittled wooden animals. She searched the shelves for photos, but there were none. The room was warm, but not in the cozy family way. Sage imagined everything that had reminded Ben of his wife was gone.

  “Sorry about that.” Cannon walked into the room with an arm full of dry clothes. “Put these on.”

  “I can go home and change.” She inched closer to the stove, trying to get more warmth before she had to venture outside. Otis had found a chair he liked and was curled up and looking comfy. “Is your dad okay?”

  Cannon laughed in that in-need-of-a-strait-jacket way. “No, he’s not okay. Did he try to drown himself again?”

  “Yes, I was sitting outside because . . . well . . . you know, and he took a dip in the lake.” She looked down at the clothes he’d set on the chair closest to her. “He needs help, Cannon. You can’t ignore him.”

  He shook his head. “Get changed and meet me in the kitchen.” He didn’t wait for confirmation. He turned around and walked away.

  Water puddled on the wood floor at her feet. More cold than shy, she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the pair of sweatpants that would fit four of her. Thank God for drawstrings. She snugged the waist as small as she could get it and rolled the legs up a foot. The soft cotton T-shirt reminded Sage of Cannon and their drive to Copper Creek—it smelled of pine and fresh air or possibly dryer sheets. She wasn’t sure. Her nose was only starting to thaw. She gathered her wet clothes and brought them into the kitchen and sat them in the sink to drain.

  At the table, Cannon sat with his head in his hands. There were two steaming cups of coffee in front of him.

  The chair squeaked when she sat, and he lifted his head to look at her. “Are you getting warm?”

  She wrapped her hands around the hot mug and nodded. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” She tucked her cold feet under the chair and regretted rolling up the sweatpants. “Is your dad in warm clothes?”

  “Yes, he’s in bed, in dry clothes, and asleep. He’s in better shape than you.”

  Giving up the battle, Sage bent over to unroll the sweat pants and cover her feet.

  “Let me get you some socks.” He stood, but she shook her head.

  “No need, I’m okay.”

  He patted his lap. “Then give me your feet.”

  It was a directive, not a suggestion, and Sage was too tired to argue. She scooted her chair closer and placed her nearly blue feet into his lap. Strong hands rubbed warmth into her toes. “Thank you. That feels so good.” She melted into the chair.

  “Thank you for being there for him, but it’s a wasted effort.” He lifted his hand from her feet and rubbed it across the neatly trimmed beard that framed his face.

  “Helping those you love is never a waste.” The clipped tone of her voice surprised her. Ben could be a pain, but she’d never consider him a waste.

  Cannon continued to rub life back into her feet. “Have you ever loved someone who doesn’t love you enough to stay?”

  His question hit her like an ax to the stomach. Somewhere deep inside, she believed if her parents or grandmother had loved her enough, they would have fought harder to survive. She knew it was a ridiculous expectation, but the child inside her was hard to convince.

  She pulled her feet from his lap and lowered them to the ground. Instead of a puddle of water surrounding them, she now had a puddle of fleece. “I’ve loved someone enough that I wanted them to stay.”

  Cannon looked deep into her eyes. Did he see her pain? She saw his from the roll of his shoulders to the creases on his forehead. She moved her chair closer and reached out to hold his hands.

  “Tell me about your mother.”

  She thought he’d shake his head and refuse. He had a tightened-down, buttoned-up persona, and Sage was certain he didn’t talk much to anyone. He wasn’t the kind of man who tore open his wounds and let them bleed in public. Rather than silence himself, he lowered his head and spoke.

  “She was perfect. Not because I’m her son, but because she was truly perfect. She was a school teacher in Copper Creek, taught second grade. The day she died, Dad was supposed to do the liquor run, but he got sick. He’d been in bed with bronchitis, so Mom turned around after a full day of work and went back to town. My brother Bowie and his fiancée Brandy took the drive with her.”

  “Oh no, your dad feels responsible.” There were two things that made her want to cry. The knowledge that Ben felt like it was his fault, and the fact that the Brandy that Cannon spoke of had to be Bea’s daughter.

  “Yes, but he’s not the only one. Bowie wasn’t well either, so he slept in the back seat. It was a spring storm; a mixture of rain and snow covered the ground. Mom hit a slick patch, and that was it. Her car went over the edge at the only place where the drop off went into the lake. Mom and Bea’s daughter died. Bowie was the only survivor. He tried to save them. He couldn’t.”

  She inched her chair closer and leaned into Cannon. Her head rested against his chest. “I’m so sorry. What an awful tragedy. What happened to your brother?”

  “I was living in Los Angeles. I came home. We buried Brandy and my mother several days after the accident. The next day Bowie enlisted in the army. He hasn’t been back in town since. My father was a mess. I couldn’t abandon him. I had to stay.”

  His arm wrapped around her. She left her chair and crawled into his lap. Was it to comfort him, or herself? She couldn’t say. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  His hands threaded through her now damp hair. “I lost everything that week. My mom died. My brother left. My father fell into a bottle of vodka.”

  She lifted her head from his chest. “Have you tried rehab?”

  Every muscle froze beneath her. “You don’t think I’ve tried everything? I’m holding on to the bar and the house by a thread. I’ve sold everything I can to pay for two stints in rehab. He comes home sober and goes back to the bottle within a couple of weeks.” Cannon cupped her face with his hands. “I know you mean well. You’re an amazing woman. I can see you have an endless supply of love and compassion, but me . . . I can’t afford to care anymore.”

  She pulled him toward her and whispered against his lips, “I’ll care for both of us.”

  Her mouth brushed against his ever so slightly. It was a tentative kiss that quickly turned desperate. Mouth against mouth, tongue against tongue, body against body, they clung to each other. Sage needed to be needed, and she imagined Cannon needed to be loved.

  Cannon had never felt anything as comforting as the kiss Sage gave him. At first, he was surprised by the tenderness of the act. Here she was, sitting in his lap, dressed in clothes he could wrap around her at least twice. She had almost frozen to death saving his father, and now she was saving him, and he wasn’t sure she even knew how much her care and consideration meant to him.

  He was like a love-starved man. Not because women didn’t find him attractive, but because he never wanted to open his heart to any of them. There was too much risk in opening your heart. Letting yourself be vulnerable. Giving another the power to hurt you.

  When his hands threaded through her hair and
he deepened the kiss, he fed the ache in his heart—the one that had chewed at his insides for years and hollowed him out. The longer the kiss lasted, the less empty he felt.

  He soaked in the sense of being connected to something—to someone—to her. He took what she gave him and let it warm him through and through. Though her body was chilled to the touch, the heat of the kiss spread through him from limb to limb. He wanted this moment—a brief respite from his everyday existence—a second where he could kiss a girl and experience the bliss of it. He could take advantage of the closeness, but he wouldn’t. The kiss was simply too small of a Band-Aid for the size of his wound.

  Immersed in her kiss, he wanted to stay lip to lip, chest to chest, tongue to tongue, forever. He needed the kiss more than he’d like to admit. A perfect moment shared by two. His heart held on to the lie that she was his. The truth continued outside this bubble. Sage would leave, and he’d be alone.

  Pulling away from her was like fighting the pull of a magnet. He wanted this girl. He had since that first day he saw her on the sidewalk, but he couldn’t expect her to be the panacea for all his problems. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.” He hated the look on her face. The downturn of her pink lips. The question in her eyes.

  Sage cupped his cheek. “Maybe not, but it did. I don’t regret the kiss. It was something we both needed.”

  “But I don’t want this.” He lifted her and set her in her chair. The hurt etched on her face made his stomach twist in knots. Was he lying to himself, or to her? Probably both. He wanted her badly but knew that if he opened his heart, she’d only leave and take it with her. He had so little left of himself, he couldn’t afford to take the chance.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two days later, her knuckles hit the front door with the strength she didn’t feel inside. It was a risk both to her person and her ego to stand on Cannon’s front porch and wait. Normally not one to step out of her comfort zone, Sage looked at her car and considered bailing on her mission if her first try wasn’t answered.