One Hundred Heartbeats

by Kelly Collins

  Chapter Two

  At thirty-four years old, Bowie Bishop didn’t think he’d ever come back to live at home. It was never his plan to return to Aspen Cove, but then again, he didn’t expect to get shot again while in Afghanistan. When those bullets hit his femur and shattered the bone, everything changed.

  He sat at the end of the dock and let his legs hang over the side. The soles of his boots skimmed the water, creating ripples that danced across the smooth surface.

  He’d forgotten how high the lake could get after the snow melted; well, not exactly forgotten, more like banished from his memory. He looked across the water to where the tree line split—it was the only place where the side of the mountain dropped off into the lake. He hated that patch of road. In fact, he hated just about everything.

  At night in his dreams, he still saw her. Eyes the color of amber, chestnut hair, and a laugh that could warm even the coldest heart. Brandy was his everything, and when he lost her, he knew he’d never be happy again.

  The familiar sound of a can popping open and the hiss of carbonation escaping meant he wasn’t alone with his thoughts any longer.

  “I thought you might like one before we go to the bar.” Cannon sat down next to him and handed over the beer.

  “I don’t feel much like celebrating my return. I think I’ll stay here.”

  “No can do, bro. You’ve got a lot of people looking forward to seeing you. If you don’t show up, they’ll come here. There’s no way to avoid it.”

  Bowie lifted the can to his lips and took several big gulps. It would take a lot more than a can of beer to get him through the night.

  “Why did you tell them I was coming back?” This trip wasn’t a social visit. It was a place to land until the VA assessed his disability rating, and then he was gone.

  “Because seeing you back in town would be like seeing a ghost.”

  Cannon had described it accurately. He’d been a ghost. Most of him died when Brandy did.

  “I don’t want the attention.”

  “Fine, show up, stay a while. Paste on a fake smile. Then come back here and hide in the house until tomorrow morning, when you get up to run the bait and tackle shop. I’ve been taking it all on by myself for years. You’re back, so you can help.”

  Bowie never knew his brother to be so stern, but then he figured years of dealing with their drunk father had taken the softness out of him. He’d always felt bad he’d left his brother to pick up the pieces, but Bowie couldn’t bear to spend another second in the town that reminded him of his loss.

  “I’m not staying. Besides, Dad looks like he’s got a handle on things. He can run the bait and tackle store.” Cannon had told Bowie how bad his father had gotten, but to look at him now, he couldn’t believe it. He knew his brother wasn’t one to exaggerate, but Ben looked fine.

  “No, he’s helping Katie at the bakery. It’s where he found his sobriety. It’s best if things don’t change too drastically for him.”

  Cannon picked up a few pebbles from the dock and tossed them into the water. Rings formed around the disturbance and spread out wide. That’s how life was. One thing created a ripple, and an entire life changed.

  “Change isn’t good for Dad, but it’s okay if I’m propelled into a nightmare?”

  He pushed the boot of his good leg beneath the surface of the water and kicked forward, sending a splash outward. Ten feet in front of him, a fish leaped from the water to catch a bug.

  “It’s not my intent to pick at your wounds, but I want a life, too. I gave up everything—my life, my career. I gave it all up to come back here and try to save what we had. When will it be my turn to have something?” He emptied his beer and crushed the can in his fist. “Sage entered my life and changed everything. I’m in love with her, but I need time with her. I won’t get that if I’m running two businesses and watching out for Dad.”

  Cannon was right. Bowie had bailed on his brother, but at the time he had nothing left to give. As he sat on the dock and looked around, he worried that he had even less now than he did then.

  “I’m not staying,” he repeated.

  “I hear you. Just remember, I stepped up when you couldn’t. I’m asking you to step up while you’re here. I’m rarely selfish, but dammit Bowie, you owe me.”

  That was another fact he couldn’t deny. He owed Cannon. He’d given up his dream job to come home and be responsible for the family. He was only twenty-four years old when everything went to hell. Too young to be a full-fledged adult, but too old to be a kid.

  “You’re right. I owe you more than I could ever repay.”

  He turned to his left and took a really good look at his brother. He’d grown into a man while Bowie was gone. They’d been close as kids but drifted apart when Bowie fell in love with Brandy. He’d spent all his time with her. It was the hardest part about losing her. He didn’t know how to live without her. He’d made a promise to himself the day they buried her: he’d never allow another woman to enter his heart.

  “I’m not asking for blood. I’m only asking you to stay around for a bit. I’ve missed my brother.” Cannon reached over with one arm and bro-hugged him.

  “Let’s take it a day at a time. Now tell me about this girl of yours.”

  Footsteps sounded behind them. They turned to see who approached.

  Cannon’s stoic expression softened, and a smile took over his face. “How about you meet her?”

  He stood and walked halfway down the dock to meet the tiny redhead. He picked her up and twirled her around. The only piece of Bowie’s heart that remained, squeezed so hard it was almost painful. He watched the two kiss.

  It wasn’t that Bowie hadn’t had female companionship since Brandy died. He’d seen plenty of action, but he was always clear about where those relationships would go. Bowie was like a boat full of holes, and you couldn’t fill up a leaky vessel. He was a sinking ship and refused to take anyone else down with him.

  He struggled to his feet and limped his way down the dock to meet Sage. She stood in front of him and rose up onto her toes to kiss him on the cheek. It was an odd greeting from a complete stranger, but he liked her forwardness.

  “Finally, I get to meet the infamous Bowie.”

  He looked down at the runt in front of him. “Infamous, huh?”

  She smiled, and Bowie could see why his brother had fallen so hard. With a smile like that, it was like the sun radiated from her pores.

  “Oh, yes. I’ve heard everything from how you terrorized him as a kid to how you protected him at school.”

  Cannon looked at her and shook his head. “Sweetheart, that was bedroom talk and should have stayed in the bedroom.”

  Sage rolled her eyes. “That would mean we couldn’t talk about anything. You work so much, I only get to talk to you in bed.”

  Cannon looked at his brother with a see-I-told-you-so look. Although Bowie knew he’d never fall in love again, there wasn’t any reason Cannon shouldn’t. Someone in their family deserved to be happy.

  “Let’s see if we can change that. I’ll be around for a bit so Cannon will have more time to spend outside the bedroom.”

  “Dude, I don’t want to reduce my bedroom time; I only want to increase my other time. Who knows, I might want to spend that time in the bedroom, too.”

  Sage wound up and punched Cannon in the chest. “I’m not invisible here. Don’t be talking about our bedroom activities with your brother.”

  It was hard not to laugh. Here was a woman who on her tallest day reached Cannon’s neck, and yet she was in control. God, he missed those days.

  “Although due to your height, you’re easy to overlook, now that I’ve seen you punch, you’re hard to ignore.” Bowie threw his arm around Sage and began the walk to the house. “One thing you should know, none of the Bishops kiss and tell. Your nocturnal secrets are safe. Nothing else is sacred, though, so give me some dirt on my brother. It’s been a long time.”

  Sage told him about Cannon’s one-ey
ed cat. She laughed at the fact that such a tough man could have such a soft spot for a special-needs pet, but she had no place to talk because when they walked into the house, lying at Ben’s feet was her three-legged dog, Otis.

  “Aren’t you the pot calling the kettle black?”

  While Bowie walked over to his dad, Sage and Cannon disappeared into the kitchen, saying something about microwaving dinner.

  “Hey, Dad. You’re looking good.” Dad had a nice scar on his forehead from where he fell at the cemetery.

  “I’m alive. That’s a start.” Ben pivoted on the old leather couch to face him. “I was wondering when you’d come in to say hello.”

  “You could have come outside.”

  Ben looked down at the beer in Bowie’s hand. “I try to stay far away from alcohol.”

  “Shit, Dad. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Bowie rocked forward to stand, but his dad pulled him back down.

  “It’s my problem, not yours. I can’t expect the world to change because I have an issue with something. I’m learning.”

  Bowie took his beer and reached over the arm of the chair to put it out of sight. “You’re right, but I don’t have to flaunt your weakness in front of your face.”

  Ben did something unexpected. He leaned in, pulled his son against his body, and hugged him tight. “I’m glad you’re here. I hope you’ll stay a while.”

  His plans were short-term, but before he could tell his dad, Cannon and Sage called them for dinner.

  Just like the old days, Bowie sat in his place at the family dinner table next to the window. While they ate microwaved stroganoff, Cannon and Ben filled him in on all the things that had happened over the years.

  Louise Smith had married Bobby Williams, and they recently had their seventh kid. Doc still ran the clinic, although he was older than dirt. Dalton had done time for murder. The town finally got a sheriff, Aiden Cooper, and Mark Bancroft was the deputy. Zachariah Thomas lit himself on fire when one of his stills blew up. While some things had changed, others remained the same. He’d missed having a place where he belonged. He’d missed his family. As much as he hated to admit it, no matter where he ended up, Aspen Cove would always be home.

  Chapter Three

  Would anyone notice how lopsided the cake was? Katie tried to camouflage the error with extra frosting. Whereas one half of the cake had a mere quarter-inch layer of frosting, the other side had over an inch.

  Even after watching a dozen YouTube videos and an episode of Cake Boss, it looked like an amateur baked it. In reality, that was exactly what happened. Her consolation was that it tasted good, and hopefully everyone could look past the imperfections and enjoy the cake.

  If the party started at seven, then Katie would wait until ten after to show up. That would give enough time for everyone to say hello to Bowie, or so she hoped.

  The only reason she was going, she told herself, was that Sage had asked her, but she was curious about the man who had left town a decade ago and never returned.

  In some ways, they were alike. She’d packed up and left Dallas. Although her departure happened abruptly, she had considered it for years.

  There were lots of reasons people ran away, but it always came down to either running from or running to something. In her case, she was racing to have an authentic life. One she couldn’t have in Dallas.

  Katie looked at the clock; it was time to go. Dressed in blue jeans and a flowered thermal shirt, she entered the chill of the May night and walked across the street to Bishop’s Brewhouse. She’d never seen the bar so full; except for the day they buried Bea. It seemed like the town came out for deaths and births. Bowie coming back to town was a sort of rebirth.

  Katie knew his presence was important to Ben. She could only imagine what it meant to Cannon. With the sheet cake in her hands, she twisted and turned her body through the crowd until she was at the bar.

  Sage stood behind the taps, pulling a pitcher of beer. “You came.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t? From the sound of the chitchat around town, this man coming home is like the second coming of Christ—a miracle.” She set the cake on the worn wooden surface and looked around at the crowd. “I’m a true believer in miracles.” Katie never put much faith in anything until the day her heart quit. From that point on, faith was all she had.

  “The cake looks amazing.” Sage took it and put it on the back counter. “Was it hard?”

  “Hard” was a matter of perspective. It was hard to get the courage to try something new, easy to do it once she decided. Hard to take the reality that it wasn’t perfect, but easy to hide her mistake.

  “Not hard at all,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I imagine it’s like anything you do the first time—scary but worth it.”

  She looked to the end of the bar toward the man everyone crowded around. Baking the cake wasn’t nearly as hard as what Bowie had experienced. Even though she didn’t know him, the telltale signs of stress were written on his handsome face. Hard eyes. Creased brow. The strained twitch from a fake smile. Katie knew all too well the look of being present for everyone else when all you wanted to do was be alone. Poor Bowie.

  “You want to meet him?”

  Sage poured her second pitcher of beer. She looked comfortable behind the bar. Katie was envious that Sage had settled into Aspen Cove so easily, especially when she was the one who didn’t want to stay. All this time, Katie had wanted to stay. She’d found lots of things in Aspen Cove she’d been searching for. She’d found friends. A sense of belonging. A purpose. The one thing that remained elusive was love. It was unlikely she’d find it here, where most men were seasonal visitors, and the ones who weren’t were like brothers or a father. Besides, finding love wasn’t her number one priority. Independence took precedence.

  “I’ll wait. He looks overwhelmed.”

  She looked back at Bowie, who talked to Cannon. All she could see was his profile. Strong nose. Chiseled jaw. Tan skin. Brown hair. Sitting on a barstool, he was taller than most men who stood around him. His fake smile was heartwarming; she could imagine his real smile would be heart-stopping.

  She climbed onto the barstool at the opposite end of the room.

  “I’m sure he is.” Sage delivered the pitcher to Bowie and Cannon and came back to stand near Katie. “He didn’t want to come.”

  Katie watched the man smile and chat with the town folk. It reminded her of all the visitors she got in the hospital. She’d smile and nod and make nice conversation, but all she wanted was to be alone.

  “It’s got to be overwhelming.”

  The crowd split, giving her a chance to get a look at the rest of him. When Sage had said he was medically retired from the service, Katie thought maybe he’d lost a limb, but he appeared fully intact.

  A tight, olive-colored T-shirt stretched across his chest, leaving little for her active imagination. His biceps bulged, stretching the band of cotton to its limit. Her eyes followed the line of his body. He was half on and half off the stool. One leg stretched out, as if ready to bolt at the first opportunity. His jeans, though worn, looked like they were custom made for him. He was perfect all the way from his cropped hair to his black boots. The only thing missing was a Harley. He had that bad-boy look about him. She’d considered him almost too perfect, but then he’d turned his head toward her and her heart skipped a beat. A jagged scar ran from his temple to his chin, bisecting his cheek along the way.

  Magazine men weren’t her thing. Men who sought perfection in themselves often sought it in others, and Katie was far from perfect. She’d learned long ago that the true test of a man was in how he lived with his flaws. Bowie’s scar was the sexiest thing about him. He wore it like a badge of honor. She was intrigued to find out how he got it.

  “Can I have a soda?” Katie would have loved to imbibe with the rest, but she rarely drank. Given her health condition, it wasn’t recommended.

  Sage poured her a soda. “Let’s give your cake to Bowie.”


  “You give it to him. I’m happy here.”

  Sage gave her a growl. “Suit yourself. He’s much sweeter than he looks. Then again, wasn’t it you who told me you like them to look like murderers?”

  Sage picked up the cake and brought it over to Bowie. She said something that made the entire group look Katie’s way. She gave them all a weak smile and a wave but stayed put.

  Katie liked sitting in the corner, taking everything in. Rarely had she had the opportunity to be an observer. A girl could learn a lot about the people of Aspen Cove if she watched long enough. For example, it was obvious which men in town had grown up with Bowie. Mark Bancroft, Bobby Williams, and Dalton Black had that easy look about them. The one that said, “I’ve-got-your-back”. They talked and laughed like they hadn’t lost a day together.

  The men who hung back, like Sheriff Aiden Cooper and resident lawyer Frank Arden, were taking it all in, just like Katie. Sitting back and observing. In the corner was a group that included Zachariah Thomas and Tilden Cool, who lived up in the mountains and made moonshine. The only reason for their appearance was the free beer.

  Then there were the women. Abby the beekeeper was too old for Bowie, but it didn’t stop her from hanging on to his every word. Lloyd Dawson, a cattle rancher, had come to town with his family in tow. He and his wife Maggie had five daughters, ranging in age from eight to twenty-eight. Poor man. It was his oldest daughter, Poppy, who showed the most interest in Bowie. Katie couldn’t blame her. Living with her parents at twenty-eight was no fun. Katie figured marriage was Poppy’s easiest way out of the house. Her sisters lined the walls like wallflowers, with names like Rose, Lily, Daisy, and Violet. Their only brother, Basil, hung back and drank beer with the sheriff.

  Sage waved Katie over. It was a battle lost if Katie thought she’d get away without an introduction. That was, until her phone rang. She knew who it was. Few people had her new cell phone number, and ninety percent of them were in the bar, so when she pulled her phone from her pocket, it was no surprise it was her mother.