A Bridge Between Us

by K. K. Allen

  I narrowed my eyes, more annoyed by his presence than with his tone. Thomas was the business development manager for Bell Family Vineyards, but he didn’t just create marketing strategies. He was our greatest salesman, too, giving him far too much power, in my opinion. And while my papa loved to work in the vineyard, hand in hand with our grounds supervisor, cellar worker, and winemaker, it strangely felt like Thomas was the one in charge lately.

  “Don’t you have your own office down the hall?” I made a purposeful sweeping gaze in dramatic fashion. Everything felt and looked wrong, from who was sitting at my papa’s desk to the closed blue-framed windows behind him. My papa loved to keep them open when the weather permitted so that he could breathe in the same air as his grapes, especially at that time of year, when they began to sprout from new buds.

  “Don’t you have a vineyard to frolic through?”

  I glared at the older version of Trip, wondering what my papa saw in Thomas Bradshaw that he couldn’t find in someone else. I also started to question the validity of what Raven had told Josie. Thomas wasn’t acting like a man who wanted to see me date his son. He sounded like someone who thought I was a nuisance and an obstacle he wouldn’t mind doing away with.

  My thoughts were interrupted by a shuffling of feet stepping into the office. “Camila,” my papa boomed. “You’re home from school early today. Is something wrong?”

  With a final squeeze of my eyelids in an attempt to dissolve my blatant hatred for the man behind the desk, I turned to face my papa with a smile. “Nothing’s wrong. It was a half day today.” I walked toward him and embraced him before kissing him on the cheek. “I hoped we could talk for a minute.” I kept my voice quiet as I dared a glance behind me to Thomas, who was getting up from the desk. When I turned back to my papa, I tilted my head. “Please.”

  He pulled away and squeezed my hands before looking over at Thomas. “All set?”

  Thomas walked forward with a slimy grin. “All set. I left the marketing folder open on your desktop so that you could go through each piece. You’ll find all the new branding on the menus, flyers, and signage proposals. It’s all there. Just holler if you need me.” He winked at me before walking past us. “I’ll be in my office for the rest of the day.”

  The moment he was gone, I closed the door behind us and followed my papa to a small living room setup in front of a fireplace. That was where he sat to talk to anyone who joined him in his office, even informal visits like mine.

  “Do we need your mom for this?”

  “I asked her to pop in.” I looked at the door. “She should be here soon.”

  Not a minute later, my mama opened the door and breezed in with a smile. Her bright-yellow dress was a clear indication that she’d just come back from an outing with her friends. She shut the door behind her, sat down beside Papa, and bent to kiss him on his cheek.

  After thirty-eight years of marriage, they still loved and respected each other most days. Though there’d been a clear tension between them lately, it warmed my heart to see them together.

  “It’s about Ridge Cross.”

  Papa’s entire demeanor shifted. “What did the boy do now?”

  Mama cut him a glare but remained silent.

  Heat licked through me. The start of the conversation was a clear indication of the disaster that would happen if I didn’t word things in just the right way. “Nothing at all, Papa. That’s what I wanted to talk about. Ridge has been nothing but kind to me since he moved here.”

  Surprise appeared on both of my parents’ faces.

  “I wasn’t aware you knew the boy,” Papa said dryly.

  “We live in a small town, Papa. Of course I know him.”

  Papa shifted in his seat, while Mama stared back at me with knowing eyes. “What are you getting at, mija?” she prompted cautiously.

  I took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly as my heart beat rapidly. “Don’t you think it’s time that the Bell family and the Cross family come to a truce? Don’t you want this rivalry to be over, Papa?”

  He laughed heartily, as if my suggestion were a ridiculous one. “Don’t be absurd.”

  “Just hear me out, please.” I waited for my papa’s laughter to die down. “Harold is a grumpy old man. Everyone in town knows that, but if that’s all he is, then it doesn’t make him any different from half of the old farmers in this town. And just like I’m heir to this vineyard, Ridge Cross is heir to that farm. Shouldn’t we end this feud now, before yet another generation is forced to suffer through it? Isn’t enough enough?”

  My papa shook his head, sighing. “You have a good heart, mija, but that boy is troubled beyond repair. He comes from a broken home. His mama died, and his father never even wanted the boy.”

  Rage swirled in my chest at the mention of Ridge’s mom. “His father didn’t want him? Or you didn’t want him and his mother living next door?”

  Shock lit up my papa’s face, but I wouldn’t let up.

  “I know what you did, Papa. I know you’re the one who had her removed from the farm. You’re the reason Ridge never had his father in his life, and now you look down on him for it?”

  Papa’s face turned red as he sat up. “Now hold on a damn minute, Camila. I don’t know where you’re getting your facts, but I don’t appreciate the accusation.”

  He blew out a breath and darted a glance at my mama, who was looking down at her hands before launching into his own version of the truth. “When Molly suddenly appeared on the Cross farm, she had been badly beaten. She had bruises all over, and they even paid the town doctor to come see her in private. The story was fishy from the get-go, so I kept my eyes on them. Years later, imagine my surprise when an official from the reservation paid us a visit with a list a mile long of all the indigenous women and girls who had gone missing over the years. Then I saw a photo of young Molly. Of course I told the man where he could find the girl. I didn’t know she was pregnant. The Crosses could have been the reason she went missing, for all I knew. But if I did such a bad thing, then answer this.” My papa leaned forward. “If Molly had been unjustly taken from Harold Cross, then why didn’t she ever come back, Camila? Why did she stay away and raise that boy on her own?”

  I shook while taking in my papa’s version of the story. “And you never thought to talk to Harold? To ask?”

  Mama was wringing the fabric of her dress, still not looking at me. Clearly, she wanted nothing to do with the conversation. Meanwhile, Papa coughed out a laugh and sat back against the couch. “Every damn time I tried talking to Farmer Cross, he raised a shotgun to my head and threatened to shoot me dead if I didn’t get off his property.” Papa pointed at me like he was driving his point home. “You want to talk about Ridge Cross? Apples don’t fall far from their trees, mija.”

  I hated how insensitive my papa had always been to Ridge without ever taking the time to know him. Since the day Ridge had moved to Telluride, he hadn’t so much as gotten a parking ticket, but my papa would never see Harold Cross’s son as anything different from what had been ingrained in his head all those years ago.

  “He’s never done anything to you.”

  His eyes softened. “You’re a good girl, Camila. Always seeing the best in people. And maybe the boy has never done anything to me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve been saying that for years.”

  “And I will for as long as I live. History travels in the bloodlines, my Camila. He’s a Cross. There’s no stepping around that fact. Learned behavior doesn’t carry to the root. Learned behavior is a clever mask to all who want to believe. I assure you. The longer Ridge chooses to stand on ancient soil, his mask will crumble, slowly if not all at once.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. I won’t let this feud carry on. When I’m in your position, I will make things right.”

  A laugh burst from my papa. “When you’re in my position, you’ll understand. It’s business, Camila. Plain and simple.
”

  I tilted my head, confusion bursting through me. “This is about business now? You treat the Cross family as if they’re competition. Harold Cross sells corn, alfalfa, and hay. None of which has an impact on the vineyard business. This isn’t business, Papa. It’s unsubstantiated cruelty, and I’d like to see it end. Harold Cross as our ally can only benefit us.”

  My papa grew rigid in his seat. “That man can never be an ally. Not after he bought every last piece of land that should have been mine.”

  “Is that what this is about? The size of your land? You have plenty, Papa. Business for you is better than ever. Meanwhile, the Crosses are drowning.”

  “Why on Earth do you care if they’re drowning or not?”

  “Because—” I had to be careful with my words. “I don’t think it’s fair to punish Ridge and me for the anger you two have carried.”

  “No, Camila. End of discussion.”

  I wanted to push harder and tell him that Ridge was nothing like his papa and never would be. Though I believed it to my core, I couldn’t argue with a man whose opinions had been ingrained in him since birth.

  Hatred was a choice. So was love. And while my choice between the two had been set the moment I laid eyes on Ridge Cross, right now wasn’t the time to confess that to my papa. He needed to see what I saw. Unfortunately, while Harold Cross was in the picture, there was no chance of that happening.

  Mama hadn’t said a word in a while, and she clearly already knew more than she would ever speak aloud.

  “Are we done here?” Papa stood before I’d even answered. “I have a new hire I need to train today. I can’t be late.”

  “Sure, Papa.”

  Though I allowed our conversation to end, fire still burned through me as he stomped out of the room.

  Mama followed him, but instead of walking out, she shut the door and sat back down across from me. She leveled a gaze at me and sighed. “What were you thinking, Camila?” she hissed.

  My throat burned, and any second, tears would spring to my eyes. “Why is it so impossible to talk to him about this?”

  “Your papa is passionate, as are you. But you cannot argue with him about the Cross family. Trust me. I’ve tried. You won’t win that war, Camila. Not for as long as your papa is alive.”

  I bowed my head with defeat. It was burying me alive. “So, I guess this means I shouldn’t ask Ridge to take me to my prom.”

  My mama’s eyes widened, and she shook her head emphatically. “No, Camila, please. Don’t make things worse than they already are. I beg of you.”

  Something in her expression lacked the shock I expected. I searched her eyes as something clicked. “You knew?”

  She pulled in a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed, and nodded. “I did. I’ve known for a while now.”

  I frowned, thoroughly confused as to why she hadn’t ripped me a new one. “How?”

  “Did you really think Gus would let you waltz into the woods without saying anything to me or your papa? I spared you your papa’s wrath by making Gus promise to talk to me.”

  Hot tears threatened to spring from my eyes. “And you were okay with it?”

  “It made you happy, and happiness is all I want for you. But I didn’t think it would go this far.”

  “Well, it did.” I gripped the fabric of the couch and squeezed my eyelids shut. “Trip is going to ask me to prom, and I’m afraid if I say yes, I’ll lead him on and hurt Ridge. I don’t want to do either of those things.”

  Her eyes softened in understanding. “But you know you cannot turn him down. Thomas means too much to your father, and Trip has a future here too.”

  “Yeah, a future with me that I don’t want. Thomas doesn’t even like me, yet he’s encouraging me to be with his son. It makes no sense.”

  “You know your father, and you know Thomas. They’re businessmen. No one is asking you to marry Trip, but if he asks you to that dance…”

  I nodded, blinking back the tears that were threatening to leak down my face. “I know,” I whispered.

  “Oh, mija.” She walked over to sit beside me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

  She was still holding me tightly minutes later when the main door to the casita closed and Trip’s voice boomed down the hall. “Camila, you in here?”

  I looked up, eyes wide on the door, praying that Trip wouldn’t find me. Not that it would make a difference. He would find me, then he would ask the dreaded question, and I would say yes, because this was yet another battle that I was fated to lose.

  28

  Ridge

  “Where are you goin’, boy? It’s gettin’ late.”

  Harold was drunk and nearly passed out on the couch with the television blaring when he stopped me on my way out the back door. I was surprised he knew what time it was.

  “Out,” I said before pulling on my cap and reaching for the door.

  “Again? You were out all day.”

  “I told you I was going to work the gondola up at Mountain Village earlier.”

  “You left me high and dry to deliver all that hay by my lonesome. You’ve already got a job. Workin’ here.”

  “Yeah, well, the pay is shit here.”

  That last comment earned me a glare, but he was too drunk to do anything more than that.

  “Your payment will be this here land when I croak.”

  We’d had the same argument often. Nothing ever changed. “Yeah, Pop. I know.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow to work the baler. If we’ve got deliveries, then I can take those too. We’ll get it all done.”

  I turned the knob and pulled the door open, eager to escape into the cool evening air.

  Harold slurred, “It’s not going to end well, son.”

  I froze. I’d been back on the farm for nine months, and Harold had never let on that he knew about Camila and me. We’d been careful, only sneaking up to the hilltop when the crop was taller than us or meeting somewhere secluded outside of town and keeping our daily meetups at the bridge short enough that no one would suspect we were ever gone. But Harold somehow knew. I could feel it in the looks he gave me every time I left the house or the cold silence that followed my late returns.

  “I know what love looks like, young man. It’s written all over your pathetic face.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He barked out a laugh, and his eyes drooped closed as he continued to speak. “You think I’m dumb, boy? You think I didn’t know why you came back here last year? Patrick Bell’s daughter sure did a number on you. After everything that man did to us too.”

  “For all the business we lost, I’ve been gaining it elsewhere. I’ve worked hard for you, so you can stop blaming the Bells for your lack of networking skills. His dealings are crooked, but so is your mean streak. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  Harold grumbled something while struggling to stand.

  A chill raced up my spine, and I spun around to face him. “What did you say?”

  “Said I should make good on my threat and hang your girlfriend to that post in the vineyard. See just how precious she is to that daddy of hers. Bet he doesn’t even notice her tied up there.”

  My gut churned, my heart rate spiked, and I tore across the short distance before the final words were out of his mouth. I delivered a punch so hard that I could hear the cracking of his nose before he flew back and crashed into the glass coffee table.

  Harold moaned and picked himself off the floor while gripping his bloody nose. “What the fuck?”

  With a glare, I stomped off to the kitchen to soak a towel and wrap it around my hand. Then I walked back to the door and gripped the knob with my good hand, wanting nothing more than to rip the door off the hinges and leave my asshole father in the cold. “Don’t ever talk about Camila like that again. I don’t care that your threats are empty. You know nothing about her. She’s not her father, just like I’m no
t you.” With that, I slammed the door behind me and took off.

  If Harold knew about Camila this entire time, why didn’t he say anything to me? Why didn’t he try to stop us from seeing each other sooner?

  I wasn’t going to get any answers that night. Instead, I jumped in the tractor and drove it down the field toward the entrance to the bridge.

  With a hop onto the soft soil, I dusted the tractor’s dirt from my jeans and started walking. A minute later, I spotted Camila sitting on the rail of the bridge, her head ducked. She wore white jeans and a long burnt-orange sweater. Her hair was swept up into a ponytail, and her lips shone with a thick layer of gloss. God, she was beautiful.

  “You’re early.”

  She looked up sharply, like she hadn’t heard me coming. The moment she saw me, she visibly relaxed. “I am.” Her eyes darted to my wrapped hand next then widened in shock. “What happened to you?”

  “Just a little accident on the farm. Nothing an aspirin won’t fix.”

  When her smile didn’t reach her eyes, I quickened my steps until my arms were wrapped around her. I pressed my lips to hers, wanting to make whatever sadness she was feeling go away. She returned my kiss hungrily, tugging me closer by the collar and delving her tongue into my mouth until we were both breathless. When we parted, her head fell onto my shoulder, and she took a deep, slow breath.

  “Is everything okay?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.

  She groaned and pulled away to look at me. “No, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  Camila thought she could hold the entire world on her shoulders. I’d never seen her look so defeated.

  “And what is it you want to fix?”

  Emotion welled in her eyes, and her chin quivered. Something had broken through that tough shell of hers, and it damn near shattered me too.

  “I tried to talk to my papa about the stupid feud. I just wanted him to see it my way and to realize this will be my problem to deal with one day, not his.” She looked at me with wide eyes, like she was pleading for me not to be upset. “And I love being with you, Ridge, but all this sneaking around is getting to me. I thought that if I talked to my papa, then maybe—”