The Two of Us

by Victoria Bylin

The interior of the house stole Mia’s breath. A glass wall faced the higher elevations of the Rocky Mountains behind the house, and a massive brick fireplace promised heat on a cold night. Two big couches made a V in front of the hearth, and a triangular table displayed a scattering of papers, magazines, and a laptop. She guessed Jake had been working on something.

  Feeling both awkward and impressed by the house, she retreated to the safety of good manners. “Thanks for inviting me to stay the extra nights. Four days is a long time for a house guest.”

  “Not for my parents. They love company, especially my mom.”

  As they climbed the stairs, Mia slowed to take in a gallery of family photographs that spanned at least four generations. She tried to spot Jake, but with so many pictures, it was like playing Where’s Waldo? until her eyes fastened onto a family portrait taken about ten years ago. It showed Jake and his siblings—a brother and a sister—and Frank and Claire. The Tanner house was a real home, the kind Mia once dreamed of having for herself.

  Jake guided her to a corner room with a twin bed with a lacy comforter, matching curtains, and a pile of throw pillows. Pastel prints of Monet’s Water Lilies graced the walls, and a bookcase held an assortment of paperbacks, including a copy of Anne of Green Gables, Mia’s favorite book ever.

  “This is lovely,” she said.

  “It was my sister’s room.” Jake indicated the Monet posters as he hung her garment bag in the closet. “She’s an artsy type. Lives in Chicago now.”

  “Older or younger?”

  “Younger by two years. I have an older brother too. He lives in LA with his wife and two kids.”

  “It’s nice to have siblings.”

  “It is.” He set down her suitcase. “It’s tough for them being away with my mom’s health problems, but we keep in touch. I’m glad I’m around.”

  “I’m sure they are too.”

  He paused. “You and Lucy—”

  “We’re half sisters. Different fathers.” Mia set the computer bag on the desk. “I hope she’s not driving you too crazy.”

  “Not at all. She’s great with Claire, and my dad appreciates the help. She’s down at the kennel with my mom. Why don’t you put on something casual? I’ll take you to see her.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  He disappeared down the hall, leaving Mia to close the door with a soft click. She traded her business suit for jeans and a short-sleeved plaid top, gave her hair a quick fluff, then dabbed on lipstick and walked down the stairs. She spotted Jake on the couch, hunched forward with his attention on the laptop. He didn’t hear her approach, and Pirate wasn’t with hm.

  Mia cleared her throat. He still didn’t hear, so she raised her voice. “Jake?”

  Startled, he jumped to his feet. “I didn’t hear you.” He stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled the hearing aid. “It’s time for a battery change. I’ll be right back.”

  He went into another room, maybe the kitchen. Mia walked to the wall of windows and looked up at the mountains. In a year they’d still be there, essentially unchanged. Mia, on the other hand, would be far away. She’d also have a brand-new niece or nephew. Her sole regret concerning Mission Medical was missing out on being the world’s best aunt.

  When Pirate’s toenails clicked on the wood floor, she turned and saw Jake in the doorway, his shoulders slightly bent and his hand to his ear as he adjusted the hearing aid.

  Satisfied, he gave her a nod. “That’s better. Let’s find Lucy.”

  He lifted his Stetson from a hook by the door, put it on, and called Pirate. The three of them left the house, crossed a wide yard, and approached the outbuildings. While they walked, Jake shared the history of the ranch. Founded by his great-great-grandfather in the 1890s, it had been home to cattle and a way station on the old Ute trail. In the 1930s, a new generation of Tanners added cabins and turned the property into a hotel to serve the growing populations of Colorado Springs and Denver.

  When their success ebbed in the 1970s, Jake’s grandparents knocked down the cabins and sold off most of the land. His father started Tanner Vending to make a living, met Claire on a blind date, and married her.

  “They don’t want to leave,” Jake said as they neared the first outbuilding, “but they can’t stay here forever.”

  “Not without a lot of help.” Mia ached for the entire family. She’d cared for Alzheimer’s patients on the med-surg floor. Frustration and pity went hand in hand. “She seems young for Alzheimer’s.”

  “She is. She’s only sixty-six.”

  “So it’s early onset.”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t have the genetic type. Even so, the disease scares my brother, sister, and me to death.”

  “I can imagine.” Because of her mom, cancer scared Mia the same way. “How is your dad doing health-wise?”

  “Just fine. He loves this place, but he’s seventy-one and not getting any younger.”

  “So it’s all on your shoulders. The house. The business. And starting the camp.”

  “Don’t forget the dogs. And this.” He pushed open the door to an old barn and flipped a light switch. “Welcome to the Tanner Pinball Museum.”

  Mia caught her breath at the sight of at least fifty pinball machines, all dark except for two games near the door. The tall back of the one called Pop & Go showed cartoon weasels in top hats bopping each other with bowling pins. The other was called Clown Car.

  She gave Jake a sly look. “I bet there’s a claw machine in here somewhere.”

  “Over there.” He pointed to a big machine on the far side of the barn. “I practiced a lot as a kid.”

  “And you haven’t lost the knack.”

  “Actually I did lose it.” Peering out from under the hat, he shifted his attention back to the pinball games. “I spent a lot of time out here while I was recovering—both with the claw machine and playing pinball. There’s something satisfying about whacking a little silver ball, and I could hear the noise without my hearing aids.”

  Mia touched his arm. She couldn’t help it.

  He gave a shrug, but his tone carried an edge. “The idea for Camp Connie was born out here.”

  “How?”

  “When Sam came to visit, we spent hours playing different games. We also worked on his car, hiked to the top of Echo Falls, and shot the rapids farther down the canyon. He said it helped him to just hang out. We decided together to start Camp Connie.”

  “It’s a worthy cause. But it’s also a lot of work.”

  “Some,” he said. “But I have the time. The vending business takes up maybe four days a week between driving the routes, stocking machines, ordering, and making repairs. My dad and I work together on it, but the camp is all mine. Right now I’m working on a business plan, researching insurance, and getting ready for a fight over the zoning change we need.”

  “A fight?” Mia couldn’t believe it. Over a camp for kids who had lost a parent? “I can’t imagine why anyone would be against it.”

  “There’s some history here.” Jake told her about the arson from five years ago, Bill Hatcher’s loss, and the formation of the Stop the Camp group.

  She was about to ask more about the zoning battle when a chorus of barking cut her off. She raised her voice. “That must be the kennel.”

  His mouth quirked up in the half smile she’d come to recognize. “Good work, detective.”

  Mia laughed. “Hey, I’m a nurse. I notice things.”

  “So do I.”

  “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  Pausing, he studied her face with an intensity that stole her breath. “You’re five foot six, about one hundred and twenty pounds, blue eyes, brown hair. No visible scars. And you smile like the Mona Lisa when you’re nervous.”

  Awareness rippled from her toes to the nape of her neck, an exquisite tingling that defied her common sense. Jake was the kind of man she admired—one who paid attention to detail and saw past the masks people wore. If she wa
sn’t careful, he’d see past hers.

  She covered her nerves with a laugh. “The Mona Lisa? Thanks. I think.”

  “It’s a compliment,” he said, still studying her. “I pay attention too. It’s a habit from being a cop.”

  “You must miss it.”

  “Yeah. I do. But it’s over now.” He indicated the dark barn. “A hundred years ago, a place like this would have been filled with livestock. Now it serves another purpose. We can adapt and move on, or live in the past. I adapted.”

  “I’m adapting too,” Mia murmured. “Both by moving here and applying to Mission Medical.”

  He gave her a curious look, but she didn’t want to say more about her reasons for making a big change.

  The silence thickened until he aimed his chin toward the door. “Let’s check out the dogs.”

  They walked side by side to a building with white siding and a low roof. The interior was warm, well lit, and separated into about twenty dog-sized cubicles. Flaps on the wall allowed the dogs to go outside. The spaces were empty except for one, where a little white dog sat huddled in the corner.

  “She looks lonely,” Mia said to Jake.

  “She is.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Officially it’s Peggy McFuzz, but she goes by Fuzzball, Fuzzy, or Miss McFuzz if she’s being a princess.”

  “That’s adorable.” Mia clicked her tongue to get the dog’s attention. Fuzzy’s ears perked up, but she stayed in her safe place. “Did you name her?”

  “No. She came to us with a history. Her owner passed away unexpectedly. The family felt bad about it, but no one could keep her.”

  Mia’s throat swelled with a familiar lump. If she hadn’t managed to raise Lucy, her sister would have gone into foster care, a little like Peggy McFuzz. “Is she eating?”

  “Not a lot.”

  “The poor thing.”

  “We might move her into the house. Or better yet, how would you like a dog?”

  “Oh no. I couldn’t.” Mia backed away. Growing up, she had wanted a roly-poly puppy as much as any little girl, but her mom couldn’t manage one. “I’m leaving in six months, remember?”

  “Just checking,” he said with a smile. “Peggy McFuzz has the power to melt hearts.”

  So did Jake, but Mia was dead set on never melting again, even if he did look ridiculously handsome with that cowboy hat riding low on his brow.

  He opened the back door, and she stepped into a large fenced play area for the dogs. Claire and Lucy stood about twenty feet away in the shade of an oak, throwing tennis balls and mangled frisbees to four dogs of various breeds and sizes. Pirate let out a bark and wagged his tail.

  “Go for it.” Grinning, Jake gave the dog a hand signal.

  When Pirate galloped into the fray, Lucy spotted Mia, squealed happily, and ran to her.

  “Thumb’s up!” Mia called, making the gesture. “I took the job.”

  Lucy pulled her into a hug and squeezed so tightly that Mia could barely breathe. If there was anything better than hugging hard, she didn’t know what it was.

  “This is terrific! I can hardly believe it!” Lucy leaned back and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m so happy I’m crying. Do you have a tissue?”

  “You know I do.” Mia pulled one from her pocket. “With the wedding, I brought ten boxes.”

  “Ten?” Lucy gaped at her.

  “Not really.” Mia grinned at her own joke. “Just three.”

  She caught Jake smiling at her. Since when was Kleenex funny? Or maybe he thought she was funny. Brad had never laughed at her lame jokes, and she rather enjoyed making Jake smile.

  Claire stood next to him. With the two of them side by side, the family resemblance was undeniable, except Jake’s hair was pure coffee brown, and Claire’s short style was threaded with gray. Their eyes matched as well, but Claire wore red-framed glasses.

  Mia held out her hand for a friendly shake. “I’m Mia. It’s nice to meet you, Claire.”

  “Mia,” Claire repeated. “Yes.”

  “Thank you for taking care of my sister.”

  “We love Lucy.”

  “She’s pretty special.” Mia winked at her. “At least when she’s not driving me crazy.”

  Lucy giggled. “I don’t drive you crazy. You drive me crazy!”

  Claire laughed with them, then clasped her hands over her chest. “Lucy’s getting married. Did you know that?”

  Jake started to say something, maybe to cover his mom’s social clumsiness, but Mia stopped him. There was no reason to make excuses for Claire.

  Mia spoke to her directly. “Yes, I did know.”

  Claire seemed pleased. “We’re baking a cake.”

  “What fun!” Go slow, Mia reminded herself. Express one thought at a time, because that was all Claire could process. “Do you like to bake?”

  “I love it.”

  “Do you like to make cakes?”

  “Oh, yes.” Claire beamed at the attention.

  Lucy turned to Jake. “We need to round up the dogs, then we can all go to the house for dinner. It’s in the Crock-Pot.”

  Jake looked as hungry as Sam at the Safari Café. “What are we having?”

  “Your mom’s beef stroganoff,” Lucy said with pride. “I just need to boil the noodles.”

  “Don’t forget to drain the water,” Mia warned, “or we’ll have—”

  “Stroganoff soup!” Lucy declared.

  Claire seemed confused, but she laughed. “And we’re having Skittles for dessert. Jake bought them for Lucy’s sister.”

  Skittles? Really? Lucy must have blabbed to him, but for once Mia didn’t mind. She was sweetly charmed by Jake’s thoughtfulness.

  His face wasn’t exactly red, but he’d been caught off guard. “Uh, Mom?”

  “What?” Claire said.

  “That was a secret.” Turning to Mia, he gave a sly wink. “Someone told me you have a closet addiction.”

  “I do.”

  Claire shrugged. “Well, it’s not a secret now. I have Alzheimer’s, you know. I say what I shouldn’t and forget what I should.”

  Jake laid an arm across his mother’s thin shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “You’re also the best mom in the world.”

  Claire rested her head on his shoulder, tears welling until she blinked them back. Someday she wouldn’t know him, but at this moment, they were mother and son in the best possible way.

  Lucy clasped Mia’s hand and held tight, a reminder that they too were family.

  Jake’s deep voice broke the silence. “Why don’t you ladies go back to the house? I’ll round up the dogs. When Dad and Sam get home, we can eat some of that stroganoff soup.”

  “And Skittles,” Mia added to tease him. “I’ll fight you for the red ones. They’re my favorite”

  Jake grinned at her. “Mine too. How about we share them?”

  “I’ll share too,” Claire chimed in. “Did you know Lucy’s getting married?”

  “She sure is,” Mia replied.

  Lucy winked at Jake. “Don’t tell Mia, but I opened the bag and ate all the red ones.”

  “You did not!” Mia scolded.

  “Oh yes, I did! The baby wanted them.”

  They all laughed as they headed toward the house, especially Claire, even though she didn’t really understand the joke. Sometimes love needed to be put into words. Other times words got in the way, and a touch or a hug, or just belonging, said more than enough. For Mia, this was one of those times.

  Chapter

  8

  Jake enjoyed himself more in the next three days than he had since he left Denver. Between Lucy’s giggling, Sam’s classic case of nerves, and Mia’s enthusiasm about moving to Echo Falls, he’d been pulled out of the serious business of starting Camp Connie and caught up in the exuberance of a wedding.

  On Thursday, he helped Mia find a rental house close to her new office. The house was old, but he approved of the extra insulation and double-pane windows. As for the
door locks, he planned to replace them personally. With a rental property, you never knew who had keys.

  On Friday morning, he taste-tested a sample of the wedding cake. When he declared it perfect, Claire and Lucy traded high fives. And on Friday night, while Mia hung out with Lucy, Jake played pinball with Sam, assuring him Connie was watching from heaven and that his mom would be proud of him.

  Saturday dawned bright and clear, a perfect day for a summer wedding. Jake and his dad put out chairs, arranged tables, and hung battery-operated lanterns from the eaves and in the nearby trees. Mia came outside to offer advice on the arrangement, then slipped back into the house to help Lucy dress for the twilight ceremony.

  As best man, Jake’s first responsibility was to Sam, but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying a little about Mia. They were both a lot older than the college kids invited to the wedding, and he knew how he felt—like an old guy with hearing aids and a trick knee. Someone who didn’t fit in. No way did he want Mia to feel left out. They were in this together, and he intended to make the night fun for her.

  At precisely six o’clock, or 1800 military time, the twenty-two folding chairs were filled with guests. Sam and Lucy stood in front of ROTC Chaplain Reginald Grant, and Jake and Mia were in their positions as best man and maid of honor.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” Chaplain Grant’s voice boomed as if he were addressing a full battalion. Forget mild-mannered Father Mulcahy of M*A*S*H fame. Chaplain Grant was taller than Jake, hard-muscled, bald, and wore a fruit salad of ribbons and metals on his chest.

  “We’re here today to honor Sam Waters, Lucy Robinson, and the commitment they’re about to make to each other. I’ve known Sam for three years, and I’ve recently gotten to know Lucy. It’s an honor to officiate their wedding.”

  Jake’s gaze strayed to Mia. She was utterly captivating in a strapless, peach-colored dress that shimmered in the last rays of the sun. The silk brought out coppery highlights in her hair, and so did the peach-colored flowers in her bridesmaid bouquet. She also held Lucy’s bridal bouquet for the second time since Jake had met her.

  Was she always the bridesmaid and never the bride? Always the woman who worked behind the scenes? It seemed like it.