by Avery Flynn
“Shhhh.” He glanced out in the hallway that was thankfully still empty then back at her. “Keep it down, eh? The last thing I need right now is Gijú and Nukumi planning a wedding. You want to hear about it, let’s…” He checked his watch. Still two hours before Edwin would demand possession of the Cup. “Let’s go down to the creek. Do some fishing.”
She made a face, nose and eyes wrinkled.
“I’ll fish in the creek. You can fish in my brain.”
“Deal.”
Normally they’d walk, but the day was heating up fast, and there was too much to carry. He drove as far as the forest’s edge, and the hike to the creek was short from there. The dock was old but sturdy, and they sat at the end of it, legs hanging off the edge.
Jesse stared at the Cup and kicked her feet back and forth while he got his rod straightened out and hook baited. “You had to bring it with you?”
“Hey, I plan to win it again, but there’s no guarantee. Need to enjoy every minute I can.”
“Uh huh. Anyway. Aria.” Laser focus. That was Jesse.
He took a breath and cast his line. It was easy when it came to discussing his intentions with Aria. Discussing them about her was different. Just like with the Cup, there were no guarantees, and okay, yeah, he was superstitious. Part of the hockey player package. “I made a mistake letting her go. I want her back.”
“Hah!” It came out like a gunshot, and Jesse pointed at him.
“So, you were right. But I said I want her back. I didn’t say I’m getting her back. The chief and I have different ideas on what happens next.”
“I’m guessing what happened last night went a long way in helping that.”
“Jess.” Last night topped the list of things he did not want to talk to his sister about. Ever.
“Just sayin’. And don’t worry. Ari might think giving you another try is a bad idea, but she wants to. She loves you, dummy. She never stopped.”
His heart ached even while that statement sunk in. She never stopped loving him. But she sure as hell thought he’d stopped loving her. For a brief period, he’d thought so, too, but once the novelty of dating other people had worn off, the truth unpacked its bags and had been camped out in his head for the eight years that’d followed.
“Did you see the press today?” Jesse pulled out her phone and brought up two websites, the Rage’s and the league’s. Headline after glowing headline about the potlatch and his day with the Cup. “It was a success. This’ll do great things for the reserve. I think you earned some big points with our chief.”
“I’ll take as many as I can get.” His line gave a tug, and he reeled it in, but the fish had only stolen his bait and gotten away. He put another worm on the hook, cast it in, then glanced at her screen again. “There she is literally knocking me on my ass in street hockey. She has to love that.”
Jesse kept scrolling.
“Oh … shit.” Pictures of them at the ice rink getting very cozy. She would not love that.
Jesse lifted a shoulder. “She’ll get over it. Really, how many people care who you’re kissing? The whole reserve’s been calling it for days. You just lived up to expectations.”
“Can you be the one who tells her that? I want to be there to see her Exorcist impression, but I’m using you as a human shield.”
She rolled her eyes but kept scrolling. After a few seconds, her expression turned serious and matched her tone. “Uh oh.”
The hair lifted on the back of his neck. “What oh?”
“This is bad.”
“Jess.”
She hesitated a second longer then showed him the screen. The picture was grainy but distinguishable. Jasper Olson, the reserve’s last open alcoholic, stood to the side of the potlatch celebration, bottle in hand and looking unbalanced. Anywhere else it wouldn’t be news. At the most public First Nations celebration in decades? It could undo the years of hard work his father and Aria had put in, improving the Mi’kmaq image. It was exactly what Aria had been afraid of in the council meeting. And it was Bear’s fault for insisting everything would be fine.
“Maybe … it’ll be okay. It’s possible she won’t hold it against you. I mean, there’s been a lot of good press. This one thing—”
“Reinforces the negative stereotypes our people have been fighting forever. I let the world in to see this. I gave her my word it would be okay.”
“This wasn’t anyone on your media crew.” She waved the phone. “Local news snuck in. This was taken on a cell phone.”
“That won’t matter to Aria.”
Jesse studied him, blank-faced. “Bear, why do you want her back?”
The topic change made him hesitate a beat. “Why are you asking?”
“Because if it’s not for the right reason, you shouldn’t do it.”
Coming from Jesse, it hit hard. This was the girl who tried to Parent-Trap them back together for years, who never let a conversation with him go by without a comment about how amazing Aria was. She had wanted them to make amends then as much as he did now, but not at the cost of her friend’s best interest. His little sister had turned out okay after all. Not that he’d ever had much doubt. “I want her back because I see now all the ways she completed me. And I know that makes me sound like a Hallmark movie, but it’s true. I’ve never met someone so dedicated to the people and causes she cares about. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about settling down, but when I do? She’s the only one I can see as my wife. As the mother of my children. She’s the only one I want.” One truth after the other poured out, things he hadn’t directly admitted to himself before.
Jesse had a talent for getting people—family, friends and strangers—to reveal their innermost secrets. Maybe it was the sweet, little-girl appearance despite the fact that she was actually a rebel well into her twenties, or maybe it was the you-can-trust-me aura she projected naturally. If you believed Niskamij, it was a birthright passed on to her from their shaman ancestors. In any case, the girl had an undeniable knack for getting people to lay it all out there.
“Well … those are some pretty good reasons. Have you shared them with her?”
“Not yet. I don’t think she’s ready. Especially now.”
“Oh, please. ’Ready’ is a myth and an excuse.”
A hard tug on his line almost pulled him into the water, almost as if the fish were punctuating her point. “Touché.” He reeled it in carefully. This one wouldn’t get away. And if he could help it, neither would Aria.
“You are glowing.”
Aria paused on her way into the council building and glanced at Oliver, who studied her from the doorway to his office, clad today in an Easter egg yellow shirt. Did he know? Her heart beat like a wild rabbit’s, but she tried to keep an outer calm. Her voice couldn’t be trusted, so she arched a brow.
He tilted his head. “Must have spent too much time in the sun yesterday, eh?”
Relief washed through her so fast her knees threatened to give out. One foot after the other, she made it to her own office and cocked a hip against the door as she unlocked it. “Must have.” It definitely wasn’t from the earth-shattering, bone-melting sex she’d had with the smoking hot hockey player. If that’s what he was implying. Snap out of it. Ollie didn’t know. The whole reserve didn’t know. Yet, anyway. She had about one minute of alone time behind her desk before Ollie came in, a cup of coffee in each hand and a newspaper tucked under his arm. He handed her a cup, waited for her to swallow a sip, then laid the paper in front of her.
She set the mug down with a thud, a small wave of coffee spilling over the headline. That didn’t matter. What mattered was the picture under it. A crystal clear image of her making out with Bear on the ice. Local Cup champion gets special welcome from chief. Okay, maybe the headline did matter. When she dared a glance up, Ollie had a satisfied smirk, but it was playful, not malicious. So, he did know. And the whole reserve. And the rest of the world.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Chi
ef. You know everyone here is over the moon about it. You two were always meant to be together.”
“Whoa, okay. We’re not together. We’re … undefined. It’s complicated.”
“Looks pretty clear to me.” He nodded at the paper. “And not just that. You two have been dancing around each other since he got back. I know there’s a lot more to it, and if I’m overstepping, you can say so, but we all love you here and want to see you happy. I haven’t seen you this happy since…”
Before Bear left. Indignation flickered. She hadn’t waited around like some hopeless, lovesick kid. She’d gone away to school, experienced new things, accomplished everything she’d set out to. Those fulfilling accomplishments meant something, were worth something. For a long time, they were everything. But if she were being completely honest, there’d been a missing piece. For years, she’d thought that missing piece was closure. Staring at the picture of her entangled with Bear, it was clear there was more to it than that. “I don’t need a man to make me happy.”
“You don’t need anyone for anything, but we’re here for you just the same. If you let us be. As chief, you understand the power of community. That we’re all stronger together.”
“But he makes me weak.”
“There’s a difference between weak and vulnerable. I know you don’t like either, but it takes a very strong person to be the latter.”
She pursed her lips to the side. “You’re very Team Bear.”
“Hey, I’m Team You. My advice comes from observation. He was a stupid boy, but he’s grown into a good man. That’s all I’ll say. The Cup celebration was mostly a big success.” Something about his expression and posture—the way the corner of his mouth ticked and his shoulders went back—ushered in a sense of dread.
“Mostly good?”
He hesitated a second then handed her his phone.
Her heart hammered as she saw the small, grainy picture of Jasper Olson nursing a big bottle of beer. “Oh my God. How did he get that? I checked. I checked his house to make sure he didn’t have anything.”
Ollie sighed. “You know Jasper. He’s never without. And no one can babysit him twenty-four-seven. It’s one small article from a fringe blog, but…”
Her stomach clenched. “But?”
“I guess it got around.” Little, neon notes fluttered from his hand onto the newspaper. Phone messages from surrounding Mi’kmaq bands, some praising how she’d handled the event and thanking her, others mentioning the blog and blaming her.
“I can’t believe it.”
“Most of them are positive, boss.”
“But you understand the damage as well as I do. And they do, too.” She gestured at the colorful notes.
“The good outweighs the bad. No one’s ever done something like this for our tribe. They know that as well. Under the fear, they know it.”
“I was afraid this would happen. It tarnishes our image. It sets us back.”
“Aria.” He set a hand on her shoulder, and it succeeded in grounding her. He didn’t continue until she met his stern gaze. “I understand what you’re saying, but this will blow over. You can address it in a joint meeting if you think that’ll help. Jasper aside, the day was a great success. Don’t blame yourself for this. Or Bear.”
“He pushed this. I want to blame him, and part of me can’t help it even though I know I made the ultimate decision. But that doesn’t really matter. I might want he and I to work out, but there’s no reality where that’s possible. Yesterday was one example of how his world can’t exist within ours. He belongs where he belongs. And I belong here.”
“Planning on another heartbreak. I know you’ve heard of the self-fulfilling prophecy because you’ve based your life on it. Where’s the optimism?”
I lost it somewhere in the early 2000s. No one got anything they wanted by preparing to fail. Bear might seemed dedicated—determined to make them work. But the bottom line was he couldn’t stay, and she couldn’t go. The more they tried to force it, the more these things would happen. “Hiding between my fear and insecurity.”
“Well, hold onto it. It’ll serve you well.”
Optimism was for the young and naive. Realism was the best and only course. Even if it broke her spirit.
14
Aria’s phone had been lit up for days, but she wasn’t taking calls or returning texts from anyone with the last name Thompson. Bear had come by the house, but Gijú was under strict orders not to let him in. For once, she’d listened. It’d taken a tearful, heart-wrenching conversation with her to get the message across, but finally, her mother had seen the raw pain and conflict Aria had been battling since the bittersweet love of her life had set foot back on the reserve.
Maybe it was childish to hole up in her duplex like it was a war bunker, but in a lot of ways, it was one. The quiet isolation offered her some solace while she patched relations over with the other Mi’kmaq bands and other tribes. She’d gotten more than a few I told you so’s and even a few flat out refusals to talk. It was hard to blame them. But it was pretty damn easy to keep blaming herself. At least they’d all agreed to a video conference the next day.
The outside door to the duplex swung open, and Jesse stood on the small deck beyond, hand on hip.
Aria frowned. “How—”
“You gave me a key forever ago, remember? To use in emergencies.”
“Actually, I had forgotten that. And this isn’t an emergency.”
“Um, yes it is.” Jesse strode in and closed the door behind her. She did have the grace to wait in the entryway until Aria sighed and waved her over to the couch. Jesse unceremoniously plopped down with a bounce, crossed her legs, and folded her hands around her knee. “You’re pulling the big freeze on my brother. I get it. It can be fun. I’ve utilized it myself numerous times.”
“I’m not utilizing anything. I’m drawing a line that was always going to be drawn. Recent events have just sped that up is all.”
“Ari—”
“Jess. I’m facing my first major mistake as chief of this reserve and patching the holes as fast as I can, but I’m still not sure it’s enough. This is all I can handle right now. Bear’s leaving soon. Nothing will change that.”
Jesse’s shoulders dropped slightly and her determined smile wavered but held on. “This thing with Jasper, it’ll blow over. I know in your mind it’s like resetting a counter that said, Five thousand days without an accident, and maybe it is like that. Maybe the rest of Canada will use it as one more reason to look down their noses at us, but you aren’t responsible for that entire history, Ari. You’ve done great things as chief, including the potlatch and Cup celebration.”
“You sound like Ollie.”
“You should listen to him sometime. He is your second in command and your friend. And I’m your best friend, so my opinion counts triple.”
“It does. And you did make me feel a little better about this mess. But when it comes to Bear … I just can’t do it. I won’t commit to the long distance thing again only to watch it inevitably fall apart, and it will. A relationship can’t survive long term when you’re thousands of miles and multiple plane rides away.”
“I want to argue with you so bad because I know that if there were ever two people meant for each other, it’s you and my rock head brother. I understand everything you’re saying, and if you really feel that way, you have a right to. But you need to tell Bear in person. He deserves that much.”
She was right. The thought of facing him after the night they’d had made Aria want to breathe into a paper bag, but it had to be done. She’d never been a coward, and she wasn’t about to start now. She wouldn’t make his same mistake. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”
“Good. He’s waiting at the bottom of the steps.”
“Jess.”
“I had a feeling you’d agree with me. Besides, once I told him where I was going, there was no stopping him from coming. He’s been miserable these last few days.”
The guilt kept comp
ounding in Aria’s gut. With interest. She rubbed her hands over her face them pushed them back through her hair. Might as well get it over with. “Fine. Send him up on your way out.”
Jesse stood, leaned over, and kissed her forehead. “Go easy on him. He pretends to be big and tough, but he’s more teddy bear than grizzly.”
Bear tried not to pace at the bottom of the stairs to Aria’s duplex. Jesse had insisted on going in first, said it’d make Aria more receptive to what he had to say. But judging by his sister’s face as she came down the steps, there were zero bars of reception waiting for him in that apartment. His throat went dry, and his palms went slick, but a shred of hope remained. He could still convince her.
When Jesse reached him, she set a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. No words of encouragement or even a flippant remark to lighten the mood. That was bad. He tried to hold onto that hope shred without much luck and climbed the stairs. It felt like walking the green mile toward his execution. Seeing Aria made it ten times worse. She was curled up on the couch, knees to chest in sweatpants and a tank top. That, combined with the messy way she’d pulled her hair up, made her look like he’d remembered her growing up. Her dark gaze was sad but determined.
He stepped inside and closed the door but didn’t move any farther. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Her voice was soft and steady, and she didn’t smile.
The first little fissure etched into his heart. “Can I come in?”
She hesitated a second then nodded to the armchair adjacent to her. Allowing him entry but denying closeness. It hurt more than he wanted to think about after the night they’d had. All those boundaries that’d come down had been fully reconstructed and reinforced. She took a slow breath. “Bear. I don’t want to stretch this out. When I said that I forgave you for the past, I meant it. I still mean it. And we’ve had … some really good moments since you’ve been back. But this thing with Jasper—”
