by Frankie Love
I nod, slowly taking it in. "Shit, really? They want to open a distillery?" I say with a laugh.
"Why is that funny? I know you guys started off on a very wrong foot, but don't make fun of it. I know it's a long shot, but…"
"Hell no, I wasn't making fun of it, Marley, I think it's a fucking good idea. I was literally just talking to the guys yesterday afternoon about wanting to invest in a distillery. I even mentioned it to my brother a few weeks ago. I have the capital. I could help."
Marley stops in her tracks and turns to me. "Maker, I care about you, I do, but I can't have you making promises you won't keep. That’s too generous.”
"Why don't you think I'll keep them?"
"I don't know. It's just this is all so new… you and me."
"Look, I want to be with you if that's what you're trying to find out. I fucking love you, Marley, can't you see that?"
She bites her bottom lip, looks down at the ground, her voice cracking when she speaks. "I want to believe you, Maker, but my brothers, they hate you."
"But this will fix that. I'll invest in their business, which I’d want to do anyways — even if they weren't your brothers — and then I'll have an in with them. They can't hate me if I give them a million bucks."
Marley doesn't smile in agreement though. Instead, she just shakes her head, stepping back. "No, they're still going to hate you."
"Why?” I ask. "Fuck, I know I've made a mess in my life, but I'm trying to make things right, Marley. Are we back here again? Rehashing the same thing? How many times do we have to go around in circles?"
"It's not that. They beat you up for sleeping with me. What do you think they're going to do when they find out you knocked me up? When they find out I'm pregnant, they're going to freak out."
"Wait, what?" I ask, stunned into silence.
Marley covers her mouth, shaking her head. "Oh God, I wasn't going to say it like that."
"You're pregnant?" I ask, my head dizzy. The words so unexpected.
"Yes, I'm pregnant," she says. “Three months along and…"
"Shit, you didn't tell me sooner? How could you do that to me? We were together all night last night, you could've let me know."
"I had my reasons," she says. "God, Maker, don't make me feel worse than I already do."
"And why do you feel bad right now?" I ask her. "You're the one holding all the cards."
She exhales slowly. “We don’t have to be together just because I'm having your baby."
I look at her with shock, my heart fucking breaking in two. "I told you I loved you, what more do you need? How can I ever prove myself to you when you're so damn set on making me feel like shit for what I've done?" I step toward her. "Fuck, Marley, let's not make this about my past right now — let's make this about our future."
But she shakes her head. "I need some time to think,” she says, stepping back. "I'm going to go talk to my friends and I'd really like to be left alone, okay?"
“No, let me fight for you, Marley. Let me be here for you, for our baby.”
“This was a mistake,” she says. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Us. Me and you… I’m…”
“Scared? You’ve never been in love, and hell, I understand that, Marley, because neither have I. But I love you.”
“Then let me go,” she says softly, turning from me.
My jaw tightens and I want to pull her to me, shake some sense into her, let her see that I'm not full of shit, that when I say I'll be there for her, I mean it. How many ways do I have to prove myself?
But then it hits me. The hard reality is I haven't proved myself at all.
I slept with her and I never came back. She has no reason to believe I've been thinking about her for ten weeks straight. She has no reason to believe I'm going to step up to the plate. All she knows is that I've been a criminal and I took her virginity. She doesn't know anything about the promises I plan to keep.
Fuck, I think as she runs up the hill toward the tree house.
I look out to the water, the deep blue sea, feeling lost without an anchor, no compass to my name.
I want to love her the way she deserves but maybe she deserves a love that's bigger than me.
Marley
When I walk away from Maker, I feel so confused, instantly wishing it had all gone differently.
Wishing that ten weeks ago, after our night together, I’d done more so that my brothers wouldn't have intervened. I should have been more clear with Maker and let him know that when it comes to the River Boys, there’s a lot he's up against. Wishing I'd make it more clear that even though I'm scared about having this baby, I want it.
Wishing I hadn’t just ended things with Maker.
I try to explain all of this to Bellamy and Wavy and Jemma. I find them in the tree house, making breakfast for the guys. Thankfully, they're all outside chopping wood or something, and we have the tree house to ourselves. Wavy's babies are with us, looking adorable in their play pen, and their auntie Jemma keeps rubbing their bellies and making them giggle.
When I tell them I'm pregnant, they look at me, stunned.
"With Maker's baby?" Wavy says, covering her mouth. "I mean, wow. How do you feel about that?"
I swallow. "I was feeling okay about it until we just had a huge fight. I told him to go, that I didn’t want to be with him.”
"What happened?" she asks, resting a hand on my shoulder.
I stop mixing the pancake batter, setting down the whisk. “I blurted out that I was pregnant. I mentioned how my brothers are looking for an investor in a whiskey distillery venture and he offered, thinking that would fix everything.” I shake my head, wiping tears from my eyes. “But it doesn't. My brothers will never forgive Maker for his past. And I’m too scared to be in love. Too scared of losing everything.”
Bellamy bites her bottom lip. "Look," she says. "I know we've only been friends for a little while, but listen… I'm not trying to butt into your business, but sweetheart, I know you love your brothers, but your life is bigger than them now. You have a new family."
“I know what you're trying to say, but ever since my parents died, my brothers and I have stuck together. They've looked out for me. They'd do anything for me.”
"If that's true," Jemma says, "then don't you think they'd want you to be with the father of your child?"
I swallow. “I don't know. I feel like I've put so much into being this perfect sister for them, trying to do my part to keep the family together, and now I feel like this one thing is going to tear us apart.”
"Maybe it's going to bring you together in ways you didn't expect," Wavy says. "Babies can bring healing too, you know. Not just heartache."
"I don't know anything about babies," I tell her. "I was the youngest in my family and I don't have any cousins. My brothers aren't married. I just, I feel so in over my head."
"Did you tell Maker that?" Jemma asks.
"How could I?" I say. "He already… he thinks I'm the sun and the stars. He doesn't see my flaws. He doesn't know my fears."
"Have you let him in?" Bellamy asks. "I mean, have you really given him your heart?"
I think about last night, how he pressed me to tell him about my dreams. When I did, I felt more free than I'd ever felt before. Maybe I need to do a lot more of that, a lot more giving him my heart.
"I've started, but it's not easy for me." I say.
Bellamy gives me the saddest smile I've ever seen. "Oh, sweetheart. It's not easy for anyone to love. It's all a massive risk. To give your heart to someone means they could break it, but God, Marley, they could also hold it like it's the most precious thing in the world. If you think you might love Maker, don't you think you should give him the chance to try to be the man you need?”
"When you say it like that," I say, "I think that I'm nothing but a fool. I should go talk to him. I should tell him I love him. I haven't yet.”
"Do you?” Wavy asks. "Do you love him?"
I blink back my tears. "Yes,” I say. “I do. I love him, but I'm so scared of losing him, that I won't be enough for him. He's this big mountain of a man. He's seen a world so much bigger than I've ever imagined. I'm scared I won't be enough for Maker."
“Marley,” Jemma says, "I know it probably drives you crazy when people tell you that you're too innocent, but right now, I got to tell you, you are being naive because when it comes to love, you can jump right in, head first, and if it's love that will last, you'll come up for air, feeling like a new person."
"You believe all that?" I ask her.
She smiles. "Yeah, I believe it. I found love with a man who I thought was way too good for me. I always saw myself as damaged goods because I'd been with a lot of men for money, because…” Now it's her turn to blink back tears. "Because I've done things I'm not proud of. But guess what? Jameson is a sweetheart. He's like this breath of fresh air that I needed. And when I dove headfirst into falling for him, falling in love, and I came up for air that first time, it's like I surfaced as a new woman. Jameson was what I needed. And maybe you're what Maker needs, the sunshine to his stormy clouds."
I pull her into a hug. "Oh Jemma, thank you for saying that. I needed to hear it. I think I got so focused on what I wasn't that I didn't think about what I might be."
I look at the pancake batter, unfinished. "Sorry," I say. "I know I promised you breakfast, but…”
Bellamy laughs. "Honey, go after him. Go talk to him now. He's probably down in his boat trying to cool off. Tell him how you feel. It always makes everything better, I promise."
I take their advice and I head down the hill to the dock.
When I get there, though, Maker's boat is gone. I run over to the guys. "Where'd he go?" I ask. "Where did Maker go?"
Jameson runs a hand over his beard. "He didn’t say, he’s just gone.”
"But…" I shake my head, confused. And hurt. Tears in my eyes. He left without even saying goodbye. I’m the one who told him I wanted him to let me go… and he did. "All right then. Can you call me a charter? I need to get home.”
The guys help me out and I get my overnight bag from the yurt, waiting for the boat to come. The women all join us, and I know their eyes are filled with pity.
Maybe Maker isn’t the man I believed he could be. A man who stays.
Marley
I'm on the charter boat, thinking that in a few hours I'll be home, headed to a shift at the bar and grill… and eventually coming clean with my brothers and letting them know that I'm with child.
I'm done with secrets. And I’m done with pushing away the good things life has to offer.
It’s time I make a plan to find Maker. I’ll go to his cabin in the woods and I’ll apologize for pushing him away when what I really wanted was to draw him near.
I let fear get the best of me, get the best of us, and I don't want to be that person. Maker might not think he's perfect, but neither am I. I'm as flawed as the rest of them. We all have our different demons we have to fight. Mine happens to be the fear of letting someone in, truly in.
I blink back tears, coming to terms with my imperfections. I don't want to be a mother still dealing with her own baggage. I want to be set free. I want that breath of fresh air that Jemma was talking about. I want to dive right in headfirst, knowing that when I come to the surface, my lungs will fill with oxygen and my heart will be pounding hard and I'll have put it all out there. I won't have any regrets for what I didn't do.
I'm thinking all of this when Weathermore, the captain of the charter boat, shouts at me.
"What is it?" I ask. I'm the only passenger and I hurry over to him.
"Your life vest on?" he asks.
I say, "Yeah, why?"
“To be safe. Look up — that seaplane ahead, it keeps getting lower."
I look up and see a plane propelling toward us.
"What's happening?" I ask.
"I don't know, but it's not good."
The seaplane lands on the water and Weathermore stops his boat. The engine hums with life, but we're not moving forward. Panicked and scared, I ask what is going on.
"Duck down, Marley,” he says. "They've got guns."
"Guns?" I ask as I look at the man driving the seaplane, and sure enough, he is holding a gun. There's another man with him, both of them intimidating. And the man with the gun gets on a raft that was secured under the carriage of the plane.
"Do you have a gun?" I ask Weathermore. He is an older man who has lived in Riverside all my life. I’ve never seen him hurt a fly, or even have one too many drinks. He’s a sweetheart, and I see fear in his eyes.
"I might have one below deck, but I'm not even sure it's loaded. I've never had any trouble out on the water,” he says. "I just ferry people back and forth. I don't know what's going on." He's flustered. And I understand.
"Maybe we should go below deck. Hide?"
The captain rubs his forehead. "You go below deck. Let me take care of them."
"How are you going to take care of them? The pilot has a gun,” I say. “What does he even want? Do you have something on board that he's after?"
Weathermore shakes his head. "I'm not doing anything sk-sk-sketchy. I'm telling you the t-t-t-truth, ma'am." He’s stuttering, scared, and the wild look in his eyes tells me he's telling the truth. He has nothing to hide. He's just an old man driving his boat in Alaska. He's not hurting anybody. He's certainly not hurting me.
But this man jumping on deck, his eyes tell a different story. He cocks the gun before I can get away. Weathermore moves in front of me and my heart weeps for his bravery, willing to take a bullet on my behalf.
"Don't shoot,” I shriek. "What do you want?"
The man has long hair, dark eyes, a weathered face set firm.
"I want you," he hisses. "You alone."
"Who are you?" Weathermore asks, finding his voice. "Wha-wha-what are you doing here?" His body is still in front of me, protecting me.
"We're here for that girl. Marley. That's your name, right?” he asks.
"What's your name?" I bite back.
"People 'round here know me as Father John." His eyes are bloodshot. He looks like he's high or worse. Everything about him looks on edge, including the gun in his hand.
I don't want Weathermore to die because of me. Father John shoots a bullet into the sky, then points the gun at Weathermore’s chest.
"Don’t,” I scream. "Don't shoot." I run toward John. "I'll go with you wherever you want. Just leave him alone."
"You don't have to do this," Weathermore tells me. "Marley, you don't have to do this."
"It's okay," I say. "It's okay. Just go home. Just be safe."
Father John, the man who I've heard rumors about for the last few years, tosses me onto his raft and I know if I fight back, he'll kill someone. I don't want to watch anyone die. Not now. Not ever. He hurls me onto the seaplane. He pushes a burlap sack over my head, binding my wrists. It all happens so fast.
Then we're off. Flying high into the sky, leaving the raft behind. The boat, the captain, everything I know.
"Why are you doing this?" I beg. "Why are you doing this?"
John cackles. I seethe with anger — I can't die. But I don't know what's happening with this man. He's clearly unhinged. And so is the guy he's with. Tears stream down my cheeks.
"What do you want with me?" I ask again.
"We don't want you, you little slut. We're after Maker."
"What do you know of Maker?" I say, fear coursing through me. Is Maker involved with John even though he swore he wasn't? No, I know that can't be true. Maker is a good man. An honorable man. A man dead set on doing the right thing.
"Maker has a shit ton of money and I'm holding you hostage, baby girl. Because I want that money to be mine."
Maker
Marley told me to go. Said she wanted this, to be done with me.
So I'll give her what she wants, even if it kills me. I'm done being a man who walks all over people, th
inking only of himself. I want Marley to love me, but I don't want to force her into anything. And right now, if she's not ready to be with a man like me, I have to respect that. I must respect that. Even if it hurts. Even if every vein in my body pulses with the need for something else, the need for her.
But I have to start somewhere. And right now, right here, it begins with the River Boys. They may hate me, but I'll win them over one way or another.
When I get to Riverside, I dock at the marina and I head straight to their house, hoping like hell they're home. They might be out crabbing, but maybe they're still here if they're looking for an investor like Marley said.
I knock on their door, running a hand over my beard, trying to think of how to right my wrongs. One wrong at a time. I should've never fought her brothers and I need to apologize.
Gavin opens the door, his long hair hanging past his shoulders. A fierce look in his eyes. "What the hell do you want?" he asks me, not letting me in.
"I came to talk to you guys."
"About our sister? Because we're not interested."
"Well, about her. But other things too."
Her oldest brother, Jett, calls out, "Who is it?"
Gavin turns to him, looking over his shoulder. "It's Maker."
"We're not looking to fight,” says Dylan, the brother with the shaved head, joining Gavin at the door. "You fucking broke my rib. You know that?"
I raise my hands in my defense. "That wasn't my intention. Things got out of hand that morning and I'm sorry for it."
They push open the door and the three brothers meet me outside in the front yard. I swallow hard, hating this necessary confrontation.
"Look," I say, "I know you have every reason to hate me. But I'm sorry. I really am. I love your sister and nothing's going to change that."
Jett scoffs. "You came here to tell us that? Why the hell do you think we'd care that you love her?”
