by Ellie Hall
“You said you got over your fear of heights, so I’m hoping you’ll be okay with this.” Owen led her closer to the pad.
“Wait, we’re going in a helicopter?” She stopped short.
“Before when I blurted out that I had an idea. It wasn’t really about the bake sale, I mean, that came to me too, but I thought we could watch the sunset. It’s really beautiful from up there.”
That was surprisingly romantic. “Did you win tickets for this or something?”
“No, I suppose it’s a benefit of being a Hawkins.”
“I thought you weren’t involved in that anymore? You started saying earlier—”
“Yeah, well, it’s complicated. I haven’t spoken to my brothers since shortly after our father passed. I haven’t seen my mother in twice that amount of time.” He took her hands. “But I don’t want to talk about that. I want this to be about us. What you started saying earlier... What we have...”
The corners of her mouth lifted and once again, she was on clouds. He wasn’t rejecting her. He was surprising her. Wooing her. Romancing her. The beat in her chest multiplied.
They went up in the helicopter. Her stomach did a few dips as they banked toward the mountains and the earth fell away. The town got smaller and smaller as they zoomed out. Once more she felt like she was flying...because she was. With Owen in the pilot’s seat, she felt like they could go anywhere.
Through the headset, his voice crackled. “What do you think?”
“It’s amazing.”
“So are you.” He smirked at her as the chopper circled the town.
“Look there’s the farmhouse.” She waved even though no one was down there.
The sun wove a golden wreath around the mountains as it dipped lower and lower. When at last it disappeared, Owen flew the helicopter toward one of the peaks. She couldn’t remember which was which but wondered if it was Owen’s Apex.
She thought they were just buzzing over so she could get one last view before they landed, but instead, he alit on another helicopter pad set on a bluff.
He powered down and then took off his headset before turning to her.
She tilted her head. “What are we doing up here?”
“You said you were hungry...”
“That was, like, forty-five minutes ago and what could we possibly eat up here?”
He helped her down from the helicopter. “My father was an adventurer and innovative. We grew up hearing stories passed down from our great-grandfather about all kinds of things. Giants in the mountains, yetis, goblins. You name it. One of the stories involved an ice cave. A long time ago, my father and a few of his buddies went exploring. Sure enough, they found an ice cave. Well, my father was thrilled. He hired engineers and who knows what all—I was still pretty little. But they transformed it into a destination of sorts. He catered to the average visitor down below at the resort, but also to an elite clientele who wanted outstanding and unique experiences.” While Owen was talking, he led them along yet another lantern-lit path toward a white-blue glow in the distance.
As they stepped inside a cave made of ice, Brynn spun in a slow circle. They were surrounded by ice walls, but it was surprisingly warm, almost cozy. Along one wall, carvings were made in the ice depicting the mountain range, giants, and even a unicorn.
“I planned on bringing Harper up here soon, but I figured I ought to check it out first.”
Above them, stalactites hung from the ceiling, but they were lit from within like chandeliers, dripping with ice.
A woman wearing snow gear greeted them and led them deeper inside where a table waited lit with candles. There were also several blankets.
“This is unreal. Pinch me.”
Owen smirked.
A man who introduced himself as Chef Bowen prepared their meal—a savory dish with fresh vegetables, homemade bread, and the fluffiest mashed potatoes Brynn had ever eaten.
“I have to get this recipe for Thanksgiving. Speaking of the holiday, you were talking about family before. With it being almost Thanksgiving, and the beginning of the holiday season, I thought it would be a nice project for Harper and me to make an album together. A sort of keepsake for her. Do you have any photographs of grandparents, cousins, her mom...?”
Owen let out a breath. “Sometimes, it feels like something is missing.” He spoke almost at a whisper. Then he shook his head and changed the subject, moving onto baseball.
They finished eating, but his comment about there being something missing lingered like it was written in neon letters across her vision. He was missing his brothers and parents. Maybe if she told him what was a very personal and very painful thing about herself, he could open up about himself some more. It had worked before, as they each shared personal details as the other lent them the courage to tell their own story.
After finishing the meal, they stood at the entrance to the ice cave with its blue-white glow, suffusing the night.
Owen draped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her from behind. His lips found the crook of her neck, gently kissing her there, then by her ear, and then her cheek.
Above, the stars glittered and below, the town did the same. It was like they were surrounded on all sides by a glowing light. The sense of freedom returned to Brynn just then but in the form of faith. She had to trust that no matter what she said or did, everything would work out.
She turned around, taking his hands. “Owen, I told you how I always wanted a family of my own. Well, when I was still married, shortly before I lost John, I learned that I can’t conceive.” She’d never told anyone. Her voice sounded small, surrounded by the splendor of creation.
Owen was silent a moment.
It was like the ice at her back melted and the fear of being rejected and what it meant not to be able to have kids flooded her.
But the wind whispered the word faith in her ears.
Then, all at once, Owen pulled her into a hug. A bear hug. He kissed her softly on the forehead and then the cheeks, the nose, the chin. He kissed her lips gently, softly, like a promise.
When they pulled apart, Owen said, “Brynn, this time I have to tell you that I had a really bad idea.”
She jerked back.
But the grin that reached his eyes told a different story. “I know that I can never replace your husband, but I’m falling for you. Falling hard.”
“On the contrary, that sounds like a really good idea.” Her cheeks practically ached from smiling.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“Because I already fell for you, but—”
“But here’s my secret. I’m terrified of heights.” He said the words slowly.
A smile bloomed on her cheeks. “Here’s the good news. We’re both a couple of turkeys and today, I learned how to fly. I’m no longer afraid. I can lend you some of my courage.” And she’d had an idea of her own. She knew how she could help Owen find his version of freedom, let the past go, and rediscover the thing he was missing.
At that, they leaned in for another kiss that could’ve melted the surrounding ice, moved mountains, and shaken the stars from the sky.
Chapter 10
Owen
Owen didn’t want the night to end. Each time his lips landed on Brynn’s, it was like he was born again. Parts of him that he was certain had disappeared, dissolved or died, came back to life. He felt alive like he hadn’t in years. The lights were brighter, the horizon more distinct. Sounds, smells, everything was electric.
Brynn’s smile as he kissed her on the lips when dropping her off at the farmhouse glowed in his mind like a real, living thing. Something he’d never forget. Wouldn’t have to. They could do it. Sure, he’d had his doubts about relationships, but Brynn wasn’t the others—namely his mother and Nadine. She wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt him. She wouldn’t leave.
She wanted a family. He could give her his. Harper and himself.
They could finish restoring the old farmhouse, maybe even get a dog.
These thoughts kept him humming well into the night then carried into his dreams.
The next day, he arranged to meet Brynn at the Beanery with Harper. Then they’d go to church before he worked a double shift, covering for another officer. When he could, he offered to help the other guys out, hopefully earning their trust as a reliable guy and his way onto the day shift...someday.
When he and Harper entered the Beanery, Brynn was standing by the cream and sugar station. A guy had his back to them, leaning close to her. She tipped her head back in laughter at something he said. Her eyes sparkled. The guy was clearly flirting with her. A flare of jealousy shot through Owen. Why wouldn’t a guy flirt with her? She was beautiful, funny, and sweet.
He wanted her to be his. Always.
Harper rushed up to Brynn. She lifted the little girl in a hug and rushed over to Owen, forgetting the guy and wrapping her free arm around him.
Maybe she was theirs. Always.
“Group hug!” Harper shouted.
They got a table so Harper could have something to eat before the service.
Owen lifted a bag containing a box of photographs for the album project Brynn had mentioned. He hadn’t looked inside the box in years and was better off not doing so. He’d have to explain who all the people were to Harper, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet. But he also didn’t want to lie and say he didn’t have pictures because she’d seen the labeled box when they’d moved from Chicago.
As he passed Brynn the bag, the handle broke. Balancing a cup in the other hand, he wasn’t quick enough to keep the contents of the bag from spilling all over the floor.
Photos fell like confetti. Brynn crouched to help him pick them up. While they were under the table, he took the opportunity to plant a kiss on her lips.
She smiled and then giggled.
He kissed her again.
From overhead, Harper said, “Need help?”
He stole one more kiss and at the same time, Brynn went completely still. He opened his eyes, afraid the guy from earlier had spotted them and she was embarrassed. She was so true though. The spike of jealousy was just insecurity talking. His mother left his father for another man. Nadine had her problems and a series of boyfriends after she took off.
Brynn wasn’t them.
Her gaze was on a photo on the floor. She blinked her eyes a few times and then straightened.
He picked up the photo of Nadine and put it with the others.
Seated back at the table, Brynn straightened out the pictures. Harper watched over her shoulder. Owen passed her the one he’d just picked up.
“That was my mother,” Harper said, spooning more whipped cream and cocoa into her mouth.
Brynn shifted and then stuck it on the bottom.
“Who’re those guys?” Harper asked, pointing her spoon at another picture.
Before he could answer, Brynn quickly put the photos away and they fell into silence before heading over to the church.
Owen knew he ran the risk of seeing his brothers if he attended the services at the old stone church so he’d been driving to the next town on Sundays.
Brynn had asked them to join her at the church in town and he didn’t want to explain his elaborate methods of avoiding the other Hawkins.
The room with stained-glass windows was full when they arrived. They took an empty spot in the back with Harper nestled between them. She held each of their hands almost the entire time as though happy to have them both there with her.
If Owen could change the past, he would. Nadine would’ve been able to give more of herself to their daughter, but perhaps that was not to be. Maybe the plan the entire time had been for Brynn to be in their lives. At least he had to hope that was true.
His primary focus was on being the best father he could be to Harper—like his dad was to him. And maybe he could give Brynn what his father couldn’t provide for his mother, what he hadn’t been able to give to Nadine.
He said a prayer, hoping this was so as well.
After saying goodbye to Harper and Brynn, he got ready for his shift. The next days passed in a flurry with more nuisance calls than anything else while on the job. The Winter Festival brought in a lot of people from out of town along with Thanksgiving visitors as the holiday neared. There were parking violations, noise complaints, and one petty theft.
It left him with little time to investigate what amounted to shady dealings between Ken Welk and the resort. At least that was what he suspected. On the other hand, what was conclusive was Welk’s ability to ruin businesses. He had a track record of making it look like properties he was involved in went bankrupt, quietly walked away, ceding control to him, or lost their lease. Then he’d go in and take over or create an almost identical business in its place. That way, he’d generate the income off the heels of the previous business’s hard work and success. He was a cheater, a line cutter, and greedy. Welk was the kind of man his father would despise for his lack of integrity. But so far, Owen couldn’t prove he’d done a thing wrong as far as the resort and any of the other Hawkins Enterprise holdings were concerned.
The highlight of each day was his time spent with Harper and Brynn. But she’d been acting cagey since Sunday.
On the day before Thanksgiving, he dropped Harper off at the farmhouse and the scent of Brynn’s signature pumpkin cinnamon rolls filled the house.
“Smells like I came to the right place.” He snuck a kiss while Harper rushed to her room to put her stuff away.
They hadn’t come out and told Harper that they were a couple. They hadn’t even said as much to each other, but the way things had naturally evolved told the truth. They were in love. He wanted to gum up the courage to tell her those three special words but hadn’t found the right moment.
“I’m glad you think so.” She bit the corner of her lip. “I’d like you to officially join us for Thanksgiving dinner. Harper and I have been working on a surprise for you and it would mean a lot to us for you to be here. What if we have dinner between three and six? Those are practically the same times you’d have been in Room Four and eating dinner here anyway.”
He had to admit, the week of getting more than the usual few hours of sleep while Harper was at school and then going there to help, had treated him well. He’d fall into bed by eight a.m. and snooze for at least eight more hours. He felt like a new man.
“I’m making pumpkin cinnamon rolls.” Brynn pointed to the oven.
“Well, alright. You don’t really have to twist my arm. And don’t set off any alarms this time.” He winked.
“So we’ll see you back here tomorrow afternoon?” she asked, lifting onto her toes.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, sunk into him, and gave him a long and mind-melting kiss, erasing the smudge of worry that she’d been acting odd.
When they parted, Harper stood at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide. She raced toward them, flinging her arms around Brynn’s legs, hopping up and down and squeezing tight. She looked up with so much hope in her eyes that Owen’s heart lifted like snow blown into the wind. “Does this mean you’re my mommy?” she asked, turning to Brynn.
A second passed that felt like an eternity. It was clear neither one of them knew how to answer.
Then Brynn crouched down and said, “If you’re asking if I love you? Yes, very much.” Then she lifted her gaze to Owen’s. There was so much sincerity, so much light there he could get lost in it. “And if you’re asking if I feel the same way about your daddy? Yes, yes I do.”
While Owen was on duty, if someone had been trapped under a car, he could have lifted it. If there had been a robbery, he could’ve stopped it. He was flying so high, so buoyed by the way Brynn responded to his sweet baby girl and to him, he could’ve stopped a freight train from barreling into town.
Thankfully, it was a quiet night and the one call he received was of coyotes on the far side of town. Sometimes their howls sounded like babies crying in the night and had scared som
e visitors for Thanksgiving who weren’t quite used to country living.
And he had so much to be thankful for that year. Returning home. Harper and the ease with which she was adjusting to their new life, her school, and making friends. Brynn. Life was good. Grand. He turned to the mountains and said a prayer of gratitude, knowing God was looking down on him with a great many blessings.
He slept like a log the next day, like a man who knew all was right in his world.
That afternoon, when he drove over to the farmhouse for Thanksgiving dinner, he could practically smell the food from outside. As he walked up the rickety steps, he made a note to talk to Brynn about helping to fix the place up. Then he checked himself. He had to talk to his brothers about that. Maybe he could. The winds of change had turned in his favor. He could do anything.
As he opened the door, the mouthwatering smells of Thanksgiving teased his nose. Turkey, squash, mashed potatoes, buttery rolls, pie, and something chocolatey.
A familiar country song came from the sitting room, reminding him of when he was a boy and the family would dance together. His mother had started the tradition, which was relatively out of character for her. But Judith Hawkins had been southern and carried some of her pastimes to the northern mountains.
“Hey, Turkey,” he called as he entered.
“In here,” Brynn hollered back. She poked her head around the doorframe. Harper rushed out behind her and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the room.
“Why are you listening to that old song?” he asked Brynn as he passed.
Then, in the living room, the figure of a woman he hadn’t seen in longer than he could remember stood with her hands clasped as though nervous. Her eyes brightened and then filled with tears. “Owen,” his mother said.
His body underwent a battle. He stood frozen on the threshold, shocked to see his mother at Brynn’s Thanksgiving dinner, in the old farmhouse no less. But his blood rose several degrees at least, upset at the sight of her. What did she think she was doing there? What right did she have to just appear?
