by Liz Isaacson
“I ordered it online,” Gray said. “But you can help Uncle Wes, Hunt. He’s been gone practically all year, and he won’t even know what to get everyone.”
“I’ve already got a few things,” Wes said. “From my travels.”
“Tea towels for Mom?” Gray asked, smiling.
“If you must know, yes,” Wes said, suddenly feeling like he’d gotten their mother the worst gift possible.
“Anything for me?” Gray asked.
“I’m not telling,” Wes said. “Because you’ll just guess what it is, and what good is a gift if it’s not a surprise?”
“Dad hates surprises,” Hunter said soberly, looking back at his tablet like they were talking about the weather.
Wes grinned then, because Hunter had Gray pegged, all right. “That he does,” Wes said.
“Oh, I do not,” Gray said. “Just surprises in the courtroom, Hunter.”
Hunter shrugged one shoulder and kept reading. “That’s what you said last week.”
Wes stood up and looked back into the dark, clean kitchen. “Do you have any ice cream?”
“Nope,” Gray said. “I’m in training mode again.”
“All right.” Wes reached for his keys, though he wasn’t too keen on going outside in the cold. Darkness had fallen a couple of hours ago, but Wes knew the ice cream shops would be open still. “Hunter, you want to come with me?”
Hunter stood up without missing a beat. He left his tablet on the couch and asked, “Can I have that banana caramel crunch cone?”
“You have to go all the way to Dairyland for that,” Gray said. “It’s too far.”
“Sure,” Wes said, putting his arm around Hunter’s shoulders. “It’s not that far.”
“There’s school tomorrow,” Gray said, practically growling at Wes.
“Dad, you said I didn’t have to go,” Hunter said, turning back to his father. “It’s the last day before Thanksgiving break, and all they do is show movies. It’s stupid.”
Gray looked like he was trying to stare into the winds of a hurricane and could somehow will it back into a breeze. He finally broke and said, “Fine. But don’t stay out too late.”
“You sure you don’t want anything?” Wes asked.
Gray shook his head and bent over to stretch. “No, I’m going to actually go get on the treadmill again.”
“Your funeral,” Wes said, though he could probably stand to get on the treadmill even once a day. Gray had already been on that morning, and he seriously looked like he could run a marathon every day for the next month and not even be winded.
As soon as Wes and Hunter were in the truck alone, Wes said, “So tell me, Hunter. How is your dad really?”
“He’s good,” Hunter said. “Though…I don’t know if I should tell you this.”
“Which means you really should,” Wes said, backing out of the driveway.
“I heard him talking to Uncle Colton a few weeks ago, and he said something about a woman named Elise. When I asked about her, Dad turned all dark and stormy, you know how he does sometimes.”
“Oh, I know,” Wes said. And he knew exactly who Elise was too.
“Anyway,” Hunter said with a sigh. “I told him that he could date, but he said he doesn’t want to.” Hunter looked at Wes with wide, innocent eyes. “Do you think that’s true, Uncle Wes? That he really doesn’t want to date anyone?”
“I don’t know, Hunter,” Wes said thoughtfully. “Why do you think it might not be true?”
Hunter shrugged and looked away. “There’s this girl in my class, and I don’t know. I think if I could hang out more with her, I’d like to.” The way he just stated it so matter-of-factly made Wes’s heart happy.
He smiled as he navigated the suburban streets back to the more main thoroughfares and got them headed toward Dairyland.
“What’s her name?” Wes asked.
“You can’t tell my dad.”
“Please, Hunter,” Wes said. “I don’t tell your dad everything.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky swear,” Wes said, holding his pink up and extending his hand toward his nephew. Hunter hooked his around it, smiling.
“Her name is Molly.”
“And she’s nice?”
“Yeah, she’s nice.”
“She’s pretty?”
“Yeah.” Hunter sighed, and Wes grinned at the pure innocence of his nephew’s first crush. He wished his relationship with Bree could be so easy. Checkmarks next to nice and pretty, which she was both.
But there was so much more to an adult relationship, and Wes found himself glancing at his phone just to make sure he hadn’t missed any texts or calls.
He hadn’t.
So a lot of ice cream, he told himself as he drove. And Lord? Could you give me a bit more patience? Maybe she just needs more time.
But Wes didn’t know how much more time a person could possibly need, and he felt like he was operating on the last reserves of his hope.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gray hadn’t told Wes not to stay out too late because of Hunter. But for himself. He did have to go to work in the morning, and he wanted to talk to his brother about a few things before he did.
Dairyland was definitely too far away, but Gray put in four miles on the treadmill, estimating that Wes and Hunter had to be at the ice cream parlor by then. He showered, and he figured they’d be on their way back.
He dressed and made coffee, thinking they’d walk in within ten minutes.
When they did, a sense of pride moved through Gray. He got down mugs, though he knew Wes wouldn’t have coffee. Only Gray seemed to be hooked to the stuff intravenously, and only Gray seemed to be able to tolerate it after six p.m.
Wes and Hunter laughed about something, and Gray did like the look and sound of that. He was grateful for his brothers’ influence on his son, though he did wish sometimes that there were other Hammond cousins to play with. It was just Hunter, and sometimes Gray wondered if the boy knew how much of an island he was.
He didn’t seem to, as everyone loved him—including Gray.
“Dad, you should’ve seen Uncle Wes tonight.”
“Hunter, we don’t need to tell your dad anything about what happened tonight.” Wes wore a disgruntled look on his face, and when he turned his attention to Gray, he wiped it all away.
“What happened?”
Hunter looked at Wes and then back to Gray. “Uh…Uncle Wes got pulled over.”
A great hiss came from Wes’s mouth, but Gray could only laugh. “I told you Uncle Wes wasn’t a great driver.”
“Hey,” Wes said. “I managed to make it to forty-nine out of fifty states, almost all of them behind the wheel of a truck.”
“And we’ve all been prayin’ mightily for you,” Gray said. “A whole army of Hammonds, down on their knees so Wes won’t die on some highway across Kansas.”
“Oh, stop it,” Wes said with a scoff. “I’m a great driver.”
“So why’d you get pulled over?” Gray poured his coffee, his smirk stuck to his face.
“Ames,” Wes said, stepping into the kitchen and opening Gray’s freezer. He put a carton of ice cream there. “And you shoulda seen him. He was like, ‘Wes, I can’t believe you weren’t driving the speed limit.’ At first, I thought he was kidding.”
“He wasn’t,” Hunter said.
“He lectured me about having Hunter in the truck, and I kid you not, he gave me a ticket.”
Gray laughed, because that totally sounded like something Ames would do. “How fast were you going?”
“Six over,” Hunter said.
“Six?” Gray let another wave of laughter come out of his mouth. “Wow, Ames must really be hurting for his quota of tickets. We’ve still got another week left in the month.”
“He’s just sticking it to me,” Wes said.
“It’s not like you can’t afford it,” Gray said.
“Oh, I’m not paying,” Wes said. “No way. I’m going to traff
ic school and getting those points taken off my license.” He wore a look of one ready to go into battle, but Gray found the whole thing hilarious.
“Then he started asking me how we could get Uncle Ames back,” Hunter said.
“Oh?” Gray poured cream into his coffee, but no sugar. Sugar—even a little bit—would undo what he’d done on the treadmill that day.
“And I told him Uncle Ames was mighty afraid of snakes.” Hunter laughed too, and Wes leaned against the counter, a wicked smile on his face.
“Okay,” Gray said, still chuckling. “Time for bed, Hunt. Go get changed. Brush your teeth.”
“Can I get on the computer for a few minutes?” he asked.
“Twenty minutes,” Gray said, and Hunter nodded.
“Yes, sir.” He went down the hall toward his bedroom, and both Gray and Wes watched him until he disappeared.
“He’s a great kid,” Wes said.
“Yes, he is,” Gray said, reminding himself to thank the Lord for Hunter that night during his prayers.
“Talk to me about HMC,” Wes said. He’d gotten in late last night, and Gray had run that morning and bustled off to work, so they hadn’t had much time to talk business.
“It’s good,” Gray said. “Laura is bringing in a lawyer named Maisey Knight, and she’s worked for Amazon and IBM.”
“Oh, wow.”
“She’ll be fine,” he said. “She starts after Thanksgiving, and I’m hoping I can show her around the filing cabinets, give her some permissions on our websites and software, and be done.”
“Tired of it?”
“Beyond,” Gray said. At the same time, he knew he’d miss his job at HMC. A lot. It had been different this year, of course, without Wes and Colton there. But Laura and Jill had stepped into the empty shoes beautifully, and their stock prices were up two percentage points over last year.
“And then what?” Wes asked, and that was the question that struck fear way down deep in Gray’s heart every time he even thought it.
“And then…I don’t know,” Gray said. “I’m going to try to qualify for the Boston Marathon next year, I know that.”
“Wow, Gray.” Wes’s eyes lit up with respect. “That’s great. What do you have to do for that?”
“You have to get a qualifying time,” he said. “At a major marathon. And apply.”
“Does Colorado have a qualifying race?”
“Yeah, Colfax,” Gray said. “It’s in May, and that’s the one I’m training for.”
“When do you find out if you made it into Boston?”
“September is the application date.”
“So you’ve got time.”
“It’s all about time in a marathon,” Gray agreed. His phone chimed, and his heart pinged along with it. He’d texted Elise earlier, and she hadn’t responded.
“Oh, boy,” Wes said, beating Gray in reaction time. He swiped Gray’s phone from the countertop and danced away. “You’re still talking to her?” He looked up from the phone while Gray’s heartbeat hammered out of control.
“I just asked her about Bree,” Gray said. “I wanted to find out what we were dealing with this holiday season.”
“Yeah, you just want to talk to Elise.” Wes didn’t even react to Bree’s name, but Gray thought he was probably putting a brave front. Wes had been the CEO of their massive conglomerate, based in dozens of countries around the world, and he knew how to hide how he was feeling. Gray did too, and the skill allowed him to lean into the counter and fold his arms, one eyebrow cocked as Wes read the text.
His own curiosity about what Elise had said headed toward the stars, and Gray only allowed to admit his attraction to the petite, white-blonde waif of a woman in the single minute before he fell asleep at night. Otherwise, he lost too much time during his day thinking about her.
His mind wanted to build a bridge from where he was with Hunter, to where Elise lived in Coral Canyon. They’d never talked about a long distance relationship, nor about either of them relocating to be near the other.
Gray was satisfied with keeping their brief and infrequent texts to be about Colton or Bree, because that was all he could afford to do at the moment.
Wes frowned as he put the phone back on the counter. The pain and tension in his mouth and radiating from his shoulders was the answer to Gray’s question for Elise.
“So she’ll be in town,” Gray said, and he wasn’t asking a question.
“She’s apparently only going to Vermont for Thanksgiving. But she loves the traditions at the lodge too much to be gone for Christmas. She’s bringing her parents there for the holidays.” Wes turned away from Gray and walked toward the back door, which had a big window that looked out over the yard.
Gray heard the disappointment in his oldest brother’s voice, and he didn’t know how to erase it. Wes had never tried to cheer up Gray when he was going through something tough, but Gray wanted to help him.
In the immediate months after his divorce, it had been Wes who’d shown up to take Hunter to soccer practice so Gray could work on the case against Sheila. Wes who’d ordered groceries and had them delivered to Gray’s house. Wes who’d bought Hunter his first backpack for kindergarten, and Wes who came over after a long day of work and let Hunter read to him in his stilted, little-boy-learning-to-read voice while Gray stared at the TV for hours and hours.
So he walked over to the door too, looking out the flanking windows. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Wes said.
“You own a house there.”
“I need to sell that,” he said.
“Maybe that’s where you start,” Gray said. “Maybe you just need to take the first step, and then the path will appear.”
The two of them stood there for a couple of minutes, each brother lost inside his own head, and finally Wes turned around. “You’ll want to look at the texts, Gray. That woman likes you.”
Gray spun around too, his heart suddenly bobbing in his chest like it wasn’t attached with veins and arteries. “She does?”
“For sure,” Wes said, his back still to Gray. “And how do you feel about her?”
“That’s irrelevant,” Gray said, striding over to the counter where Wes had left his phone.
“I won’t tell her you said that,” Wes said. “And don’t say that to Colt. They’re best friends, you know.” He poured a cup of coffee and started stirring it, his eyes finally coming back to Gray.
He held Wes’s gaze for a moment and then looked down at the phone. Yes, Bree will be here for the holidays. She’s inviting her parents while she’s in Vermont this weekend for Thanksgiving. I’m sure they’ll come.
Gray’s muscles tightened and then relaxed as he read her words, imagining her delicate fingers tapping out the message. He could picture her perfectly in his mind, and he couldn’t help thinking that he’d really like to get to know more about her.
Are you coming for the holidays? her next message said. If so, I’d love to get coffee with you, if you have time. Or lunch. Or whatever you have time for. There will be a lot of activities at the lodge, and we’re doing Cupcake Wars this year. We could be partners.
Gray took a breath, and the air felt like dry ice, spreading an absolute chill through his whole body. “She wants to get together with me.”
“Yep.” Wes just kept stirring and stirring. “You seem surprised.”
“I am, I mean, yeah. A little.”
“Why? Seems like she’s not even embarrassed to ask.” Wes gave him an expectant look, and Gray didn’t like it. He didn’t want to talk about Elise, because then he’d have to admit he liked the woman.
“We’ve talked over the months since Colt’s wedding,” Gray said. “Little things here and there. Mostly about Colton and Annie, or Bree, or something going on at the lodge. She asked me a legal question, and I sent her that favorite movie quiz I sent to everyone.”
“Mm hm.” The clinking of Wes’s spoon against the side of the mug was slowly drivin
g Gray mad. “You like her, though, right?”
“Sure,” Gray said, and Wes grinned. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, come on. You lit up like a Christmas tree when I said that.”
“That’s because you gave away everything in that one word,” Wes said, taking his cup of coffee and pouring it down the sink.
“How?”
“I asked you how you felt about her, and you said ‘that’s irrelevant,’ and this time when I asked, you said you did.”
Gray rolled his eyes. “You’re reading way too much into that.”
“What I know, lawyer brother of mine, is that your feelings for the woman are very relevant, and your dismissal of them speaks very loudly. So I knew you liked her when you said that your feelings for her were irrelevant.”
“You’re annoying me.”
“I bet I am.” Wes grinned at him.
“They are irrelevant,” Gray said, shooting a glance toward the mouth of the hall, though Hunter wouldn’t likely come out of his bedroom again that night. In fact, Gray should go check on him and make sure he wasn’t still staring at a screen. “Because she lives there, and I live here, and Hunter needs the stability in his life, and he’s got friends here, and Mom and Dad are here, and—”
“Okay,” Wes said. “Enough.”
Gray wanted to keep going, because his argument for why his feelings—whatever they were—for Elise were irrelevant was strong and multi-faceted. He glared at Wes, almost daring him to say something more.
“There are a thousand reasons not to be with someone,” Wes said, his voice barely loud enough to be heard in the cavernous kitchen. “But sometimes you have to put all of that aside and take a leap of faith.”
Gray had plenty of faith. He’d been living with its guidance every day for the past six years. He couldn’t be a father without constant prayer, and he took Hunter to church every week. They read their scriptures, and he’d taught his son to listen in case God wanted to lead him somewhere.
