by Erika Kelly
While he made the purchase, she uploaded the shot to her social media accounts.
Just discovered these Montana sapphires. Aren’t they gorgeous?
She stared at the picture—her smaller hand resting on top of his bigger one, him sliding the ring on her finger, and her heart clutched with so much longing and hope.
In a million years, she couldn’t have imagined falling for a guy from Calamity, Wyoming.
Her phone vibrated. Bree. She didn’t want to talk to her sister, but…whatever. She wasn’t going to be immature about it. “Hey. What’s going on?”
Will swung around to look at her, and she pointed to the door. Quickly, she stepped out onto the boardwalk.
“You tell me.” She sounded alarmed.
“What do you mean? Is everything all right?”
“I just saw your post.”
“Which one?” She couldn’t mean the one she’d uploaded five seconds ago, could she?
“Delilah. Do you have something to tell me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She could barely hear her sister over the pedestrian and motor traffic in town, so she hurried down the boardwalk, jumped off, and headed down the quieter side street.
“That man put a ring on your finger.”
She laughed. “Oh, my God, Bree. It’s not that kind of ring. I’m not engaged. Will took me to West Yellowstone for the day. We stopped in a jewelry store, and I was curious about Montana sapphires, that’s all.”
“Okay, but that’s how a groom puts a ring on his bride’s finger. Come on. It totally looks like an engagement shot.”
“Well, it’s not. The point was to show the sapphires, since they’re unique to the area.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just that. You usually post about food and farmers markets. Lately, it’s all pictures of you with Will and that little girl.”
“That’s because I’m spending a lot of time with them.”
“You obviously have feelings for him. It’s clear in every photo.”
“I do.” It felt good to finally tell someone. She turned her back on Main Street. “I’m crazy about him.”
“Well, isn’t that what you usually do? Every relationship you’ve ever had either started at work or school. I know it’s fun for you, but this time there’s a child involved. A girl who’s lost her parents.”
Reality crashed down on her, covering her in sludge. “I love that little girl.”
“But you’re leaving. You’re letting her get attached to you, when you’ll be gone in two weeks.”
“I’m here now, though. Why wouldn’t I give her all the love and attention I can? Besides, I’m just one of many babysitters she’ll have over the years. Bree, you’re acting like I’m some horribly selfish person. I’m in a relationship with Will. I—” She swallowed the word she was about to say. “Like him so much.” But it got stuck in her throat, so she just spit it out. “I love him.”
Her admission hung in the air, taking the form of heavy, beating wings.
“You can’t be in love with a guy from Wyoming. Is he willing to move here?”
Will in New York City? “Of course not. He’s a skier. He trains in the mountains, and he’s got Ruby. He can’t just leave her.”
“Okay, but your life is here.”
“Is it? Because I’m really not sure what I’m coming home to. You’ve just given my restaurant to Jeannie.”
“God, Delilah, would you stop punishing us already? It was a hard choice for us to make but, in the end, we had to do what was right for the whole family—including you. As soon as you come home, we’ll tell you what we’re working on.”
Stop punishing us, hard choice for us, we, we, we. Could they make her feel more of an outsider? “That’s nice of you guys to brainstorm about my future.” Without me. “But I’m taking care of it myself.”
“By shopping for rings with that guy? Don’t use him to get back at us.”
“Use him?”
“You don’t see it yet, and I get that. You had your whole life planned around that franchise, and it knocked you off balance to lose it. Just come home, okay? Let Callie’s family get back on its feet.”
“You act like I’m using them as pawns in some kind of game. I love them.”
“That kid isn’t yours. It’s not Will’s, either. From what you said, Fin and Callie will be taking over in just a few weeks.”
She hated hearing the words.
“Look, I know you. You jump right in and give your heart away. But this time…” Her sister let out a huff of breath. “I mean, look ahead a few months. Will’s gone, Fin and Callie are taking care of the little girl, and what will you be doing? Where will you live? Have you thought about any of this? Because I would hate to see my wildly talented sister working as a sous chef in some small town and babysitting when Fin and Callie want a date night. You’ll have given everything up for nothing.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Delilah.”
Just the sound of his voice flipped her right out of her foul mood. She dropped her phone into her tote and turned towards Will, watching the play of his sculpted thigh muscles in jeans so worn they were almost white and the biceps that popped and flexed in his dark gray T-shirt.
All that athletic grace and swagger had heads turning to watch him.
His smile grew wider with every step that bridged the distance between them. If her sister could see him now, would it dispel all her doubts? Will didn’t open his heart easily, but he’d done it for her. He’d let her in.
Or had he? The image of him walking away from her in the store popped into her head, dimming her smile. Why had he done that? It sure didn’t fit with the way he was looking at her right now.
“Hey.” He caught her around the waist, walked her back against the side of the jewelry store, and kissed her. Long, sensual sweeps of his tongue, hands squeezing the rise of her bottom. When he pulled back, he brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Everything okay?”
Sensation bloomed across her skin. She’d thought his mother had done such a number on him that he’d never give his love to anyone again. Look at him now.
Well, not that he loved her. It’s only been five weeks. But he was so open to her, so sweet. She couldn’t even imagine leaving him.
But what did he want? When she’d brought up the idea of staying, he’d just walked away.
He bent his knees to get eye-level. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “My sister. I put up a picture of the ring—which happened to have your hand in the frame—and she freaked out, thinking we were engaged or eloping or something crazy like that.” Is it crazy, though? She looked into his eyes for an answer—anything that said he was in this with her—but got nothing. Her heart crashed.
Taking the royal blue box out of the bag, he cracked it open and pulled out the ring. He kissed her palm before sliding it onto her finger. “With this ring, I thee…remember fondly.”
She couldn’t cover the shock of hurt. “Jerk.” Here I am twisting myself inside out over whether to stay and he’s making a big joke out of it?
“You’re so beautiful.” He stroked a finger on her cheek. “All flushed and pretty. If we were in Vegas, I might marry you right now.”
Oh, he didn’t know. He had no idea what those words did to her. Her spirit rose, soared. Her feet left the ground and her fingers stirred the clouds.
The way he looked at her made it feel like he was floating, too.
I do.
Until he blinked, and they both came crashing back to earth. “Sapphires are pretty indestructible, so you can wear it in the kitchen.”
Confused by his mixed messages, she looked away. The ring. Holding it out in front her, the green-blue as alive and vibrant as the lake, she took in its beauty. “I love it so much.”
“So. What do you want to do next?”
“Is it awful to say I want to get back to Ruby? She’s been without us for over five hours, and we’ve sti
ll got a two-and-a-half-hour drive back home.” Even though they’d checked in regularly, it was still her first day alone with the nanny.
He looked at her with relief and admiration. “Right there with you. Let’s go see our girl.”
Her heart squeezed fiercely. Our girl. Why did that feel so right? But her sister’s voice pierced the bubble of happiness. That kid isn’t yours. It’s not Will’s either.
She didn’t want to be one of the people passing through Ruby’s life.
She wanted to stay.
Keeping his body straight, Will bounced off the trampoline and caught air. Not high enough.
Again.
Coming back down, his feet hit the bounce mat, and he pushed higher.
Come on, man. Higher.
Get it right this time.
He hit the surface and exploded.
Delilah popped into his mind. It struck him that when she came home from teaching at the Slow Food Grower school, she’d find an empty house. After what happened with his mom, she might worry. He should’ve left a note that Miss Kessler had taken her to the book store.
“Will. Where’s your head at?”
His trainer’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Fuck. Focus. Holding his arms to his sides, he bounced off the surface. Not nearly high enough to pull off a cork 720.
Again.
He shut down his mind and focused. The next jump, he soared, tilted his head back, pulled in his legs, and turned toward the side of the trampoline.
An image appeared in his head—Delilah’s expression when they’d found out Ruby was missing—the abject fear.
Should’ve left a damn note.
Coming down, Will spotted his landing, but his timing was off by a second. Oh, shit. The covered metal bar of the trampoline came up fast. He corrected but not quickly enough. His heel clipped it, jolting his body sideways.
He twisted and landed with a shock of pain in his right knee.
“Whoa, dude, are you okay?” His trainer knelt by the side of the trampoline.
The same knee that had kept him out of the last winter Olympics.
Blood thundered in his ears, and he waited for the pain to subside.
“Hang on,” the trainer said. “Let me get doc.”
“No. Give me a minute.”
More people gathered around, everyone talking. “Back off,” his trainer said. “Give him some space.”
The heat and humidity in the gym bore down on him as he took inventory of his body. A gentle rotation of his ankle told him it was good. Thank Christ. Trampoline bouncing lightly, he lifted his left leg—fine.
Dammit, if he’d blown it out his knee…don’t go there.
What the hell happened? He could do tricks like this in his sleep.
But, of course, he knew exactly what had happened. Delilah coming home to an empty house? That’s what you’re thinking about while training?
Once the pain subsided, he tentatively lifted his right knee. Feels fine. He bent it.
“Whoa,” the trainer said. “Not so fast.”
“No, it’s good. I’m good.” Will got up, careful not to put all his weight on his right leg. Hopping to the ladder, he set his left foot on the bottom rung.
It’s okay. He hadn’t done any damage. Screwing up your knee a week before Freefest?
With Damien there?
Not a chance.
Nothing would stop him from shutting that asshole down once and for all.
Heading up the ladder, he let his right leg bear some weight. Still no pain. With his full weight on it, he felt a twinge, but that was it. Just a twinge.
“I’m going to call it a day.” Will climbed out of the pit, favoring his left leg, and snatched the clean, white towel he’d left on the railing.
“You sure you’re okay?” the trainer asked.
“Yeah.” He scrubbed his face. “Fine.”
“Never seen you mess up like that before.”
“Oh, come on. I mess up all the time.” He just needed to get out of there. Too many people, too much noise. He headed toward the exit.
“Sure ya do.” The guy laughed. “You’re the one who talks about consistency. You’ve taken a few days off lately, so I’m thinking we better get you back on track. You leave next week.”
“You’re right about that.” He had to get his head in the game.
Pushing on the metal release bar, he stepped out into the bright sunshine, a warm sage-scented wind cooled the perspiration on his skin.
Next week he flew to France, leaving Ruby with Miss Kessler. Marcella would be back, Lachlan would be around. Fin and Callie would be home soon.
She’ll be fine.
Of course, Delilah would stay in town a week longer, but she’d be gone by the time he got back. Unless the board offered her the executive chef job. Nah. She won’t take it.
For a moment there in the jewelry store, when he’d asked if she’d take the job, he’d thought she’d actually choose Calamity. Me. But then he understood she was just pissed at her siblings and using him to scare them into giving her what she wanted.
And they would. She had more power over them than she realized.
So, then, yeah, when he got back from Freefest, she’d be gone.
Which meant he’d go on with his life like this summer had never happened, except he’d get to see Ruby. Hang out with her from time to time.
Not Delilah, though. He’d never see her again.
No regrets. It’d been good. Fun. Definitely worth it.
A couple guys training in the freestyle pool climbed down off the scaffolding and jogged toward him. “Dude, did you hear?”
The other guy said, “Is there anything we can do? This isn’t right.”
What the hell now? “Hear what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jesus, if it was more shit from Damien, he didn’t care. He’d prove everything on the course.
Other people joined them. “He’s gone too far.”
“Time to lawyer up.”
A lawyer? “Hang on. What’s going on?”
Someone pulled out his phone and swiped the screen a few times before handing it over.
“Damien posted it about an hour ago.”
With bright sunlight obscuring the screen, Will headed for the overhang. Seemed to be an old photo, when his dad had a full head of dark hair. He stood beside some man Will didn’t recognize.
The headline made Will’s blood turn cold.
Looks like the Bowies might need a dump truck to get rid of all their ill-gotten medals. Turns out their father was one of the first investors in Sprocket, the biggest sponsor of the U. S. Freestyle Ski League’s competitions.
“It’s bullshit.” He handed the phone back. “My dad didn’t buy my wins.” Fucking Damien. He was just making a fool of himself. Will carried on. He just wanted to get home.
“Will.”
Exasperated with all the drama, Will snapped. “What?”
“You’ve been banned, man. The League banned you.”
A hawk’s screech snapped him back to the moment and, when he looked up to check his surroundings, he found himself at the family cemetery. His grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins—all the way back to eighteen ninety-seven, when the Bowies had first arrived in Calamity—had been laid to rest in this shaded patch of meadow.
How the hell had he wound up here? Instead of running home after training, he’d walked to give his knee a rest. But his head had been filled with so much white noise since finding out he’d been banned that he’d wandered way off course.
Under a grove of cottonwood trees, a breeze stirred the branches. He knelt at his father’s grave. Dammit, Dad. Why’d you have to die? Will needed him now more than ever. He brushed the pine needles and dirt off the stone. “I just want to make you proud. I don’t know why this is happening”—banned, Jesus—“And I don’t know how to fix it.” How had his dad gotten dragged into this mess anyhow? “But I will. There’s not a chance Damien’s going to ruin your reputa
tion.” His dad had sacrificed everything for him, had turned him into the man he’d become. He would clear his family’s name.
The hawk circled overhead, and the bushes nearby rustled with wildlife.
He couldn’t help thinking about what Lachlan had said. That what drove him was not his dad, but his mom. That he kept competing to prove he was a good man.
He shuffled through a lifetime of memories.
His birthday party—sixth? Seventh? Candles, cake, a bunch of kids. His mom had gone all-out—hired some company to put a racetrack in the backyard. Foot-pedaled cars. The kids had crashed—big pile-up. He’d hurt his neck pretty bad. He’d wanted to cry, but his mom had given him this look—hard, mean, like, don’t you dare ruin this party. Made him fight hard to swallow his tears, his hurt, his pain.
When he was eleven, his back pressed to the wall as he’d eavesdropped on his parents the night before his mom had left the family.
His first competition—he must’ve been fifteen— looking at the scoreboard to discover he’d come in twelfth. Cursing himself for screwing up so badly.
He sank into that one, trying to remember his reaction. His first impulse had always been to scan the crowd for his dad. Why? Because he wanted that look of pride and love he got no matter where he placed.
So, no, his dad never made him feel like he had to do better, be better.
When he was seventeen, he’d placed second in a competition. His dad had hugged him so hard, his feet had left the snow. Did you text Mom? That had been the first question he’d asked.
So, yeah. Maybe Lachlan was right. Maybe winning his mom’s respect had driven him all these years.
Respect? The word landed like a chair with one leg too short. Come on.
Love. A wave of heat swept over him, coaxing out beads of perspiration. He wanted his mom to love him.
Fuck. She never would, would she?
He thought about the way she’d looked at Ruby with such disdain. His sister hadn’t done what she’d wanted, so his mom had washed her hands of her.
All this time he’d thought his mom hated him, but…it was never about me. He picked up a dry twig and snapped it in half, then tossed the pieces into the tall grass.
