The Long Way Home

by Liz Isaacson

  “Hey, River Lee,” he said easily, like he hadn’t given her the best kiss of her life and then broken up with her.

  “It’s just River,” she ground between her teeth. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I wanted to ask you something, but you weren’t here.” He glanced at River’s mom. “And your mom asked me to do some yard work for her.”

  River switched her glare to her mother, the traitor. “You don’t need any yard work done.”

  Her mother lifted her chin, her blue eyes as dangerous as Ty’s dark ones. Glittering just as much too. “Yes, I do. I haven’t been able to get that faucet to stop leaking. Ty said he could do it.”

  River stared past the two of them to the spigot in the back of the yard, surrounded by white, decorative rocks. Her gaze landed back on Ty, who had taken the smile from knee-weakening to bone-melting. “With a shovel?” she asked, a definite bite of acid in her question.

  He tipped his hat, said, “You never know when you’ll need a shovel,” and strode toward the leaking faucet.

  “Mom,” River hissed as Pippa began squirming in her arms. She set the little dog down and she tore after Ty. “How long has he been here?”

  She didn’t take her eyes from Ty’s back. “I don’t know. Fifteen minutes? The girls are inside.”

  “I saw them.” River spun and retraced her steps back to the house. Did her mother honestly think River wanted to start dating again?

  Maybe if the man asking is Ty Barker.

  She almost tripped over her own feet at the way her brain betrayed her. She gave herself a shake and practically ripped the sliding glass door off its track. Once inside the house, her chest heaved as if she’d just run a marathon. She wasn’t even sure why. The faucet had been leaking since the irrigation water had come back on, but it wasn’t like her mother had even tried to fix it herself. She just hadn’t gotten around to it, what with River and her daughters moving in with such little notice.

  She yanked the groceries out of the bags and picked up a chef’s knife to chop the onions she needed for the sloppy Joes. Hannah giggled, and River’s anger deflated.

  “Pippa,” the little girl said, sliding off her chair and straining to open the sliding glass door. River let her have the chance to let the dog in, smiling with pride when Hannah got the door open and beamed in River’s direction.

  “Good job, baby,” River said, her dialect already returning to the small-town, western way of talking she’d left behind long ago.

  “I cook too?” Hannah toddled into the kitchen, and River pulled over the chair she’d been sitting on. After lifting Hannah onto it and setting a heavy pan on the stove, she gave her a wooden spoon.

  “You stir.” She mimicked moving the spoon around the pan and turned back to the counter to collect the chopped onions. They sizzled as they hit the pan, and Hannah started stirring the way River had shown her.

  River added salt and pepper, as well as a hunk of butter, and stepped around Hannah to open the fridge. She’d collected the ground beef, the mustard, and the chili sauce before she heard voices approaching.

  A low, masculine one that sent shivers down her spine and her mother’s higher timbre that grated against River’s nerves. Truth be told, she was just as annoyed at herself for finding every single thing about Ty so darn attractive.

  She eyed him as he entered the house and took in the scene before him: Lexi painting at the table, the same eyes and nose as River. And Hannah standing at the stove, her hair the exact same color as River’s, even if River’s came from multiple steps only a talented stylist could achieve.

  “Beef,” River said quietly as she turned her back on Ty and started crumbling the beef into the pan so Hannah could stir it around. “Mix it all up, ‘kay?” She steadfastly refused to look at Ty as she got out a bottle of apple cider vinegar and a sack of brown sugar.

  He had come by to ask her something, but she didn’t want to talk to him. Over the past couple of years, River had gotten very good at ignoring uncomfortable things and making light of awkward situations.

  She’d also learned how to talk about how she felt, and she’d already looked for a therapist here in Gold Valley that could continue to help her heal emotionally.

  “Can I talk to you for a sec?” Ty seemed to appear magically at his side, as if he’d teleported there.

  River’s fingers stumbled on the twist tie keeping the brown sugar fresh. Instead of trying to rectify her mistake, she simply abandoned the task. “Mom? Can you stand here by Hannah?” The beef needed to brown, and that was at least five or six minutes away.

  “Sure thing.” Her mom edged into the kitchen as Ty slid his way out. He walked into the living room, but didn’t stop there. He opened the front door stepped onto the porch.

  River warred with herself. She could rush to the door and lock it, sending a clear and loud message to Ty—the way he had all those summers ago.

  Don’t burn bridges, echoed in her mind. One of her mother’s life lessons. One that had actually stuck in River’s mind. One she’d relied on throughout college, her counseling internship, even her failed marriage.

  She coached herself that just because Ty was good-looking didn’t mean she had to let him into her life. That just because she’d kissed him before didn’t mean she had to do it again. That just because he wanted to talk didn’t mean she had to listen.

  She lifted her shoulders and joined him on the front porch. “What’s up?”

  Ty leaned against the porch railing, seemingly at ease right here where he hadn’t been for a while. “So just hear me out.”

  It took every ounce of River’s willpower not to lean her elbows next to his, share the same air as him, take a deep drag of his intoxicating scent. “All right.”

  “All right,” he drawled, mimicking her. “You sound like you haven’t left at all.” He chuckled but sobered quickly. “So I help out with the summer activities. Specifically, I’m in charge of the children’s carnival during the Fourth of July week, the end-of-summer carnival, and the weekend dances.”

  River tried to bite down on the information and chew on it for a moment before speaking, but trying to imagine Ty planning events was so far from who she thought he was. “You’re doing what?” she asked with no small measure of incredulity.

  His shoulders stiffened and he ducked his chin to put the brim of his cowboy hat between them. “I volunteer on a community service committee,” he said. “And we need more help. I thought maybe you’d like to join up. Help out with the kid’s activities or the carnival or the dances.”

  She laughed, the sound anything but carefree and happy. “I don’t think so.” She’d be working with a group of eight teen girls come Monday, and then returning home to care for her own two daughters. She didn’t think she’d even have enough mental stamina to do that, let alone think about what other people’s children would like to see and do at an Independence Day activity.

  And helping with the carnival? Definitely out. Just thinking about such things made the taste of caramel coat her tongue and her lips tingle from the once-gentle pressure of Ty’s mouth against hers.

  No, she could absolutely not help him organize anything having to do with the carnival. No, sirree.

  She’d known about the dances in Gold Valley’s central square. She’d attended as a teenager, spun with several boys before she left for college, even snuck off to kiss one of them after the last dance of the summer.

  River glanced at Ty, wondering if those memories, that summer, his words, ever haunted him.

  “You don’t have to do all of that,” Ty said. “Just one thing would suffice. Or I know Doris Downing needs help with the judging for the county fair. Baked goods and sewing.”

  The way he wouldn’t look at her drove frustration through her bloodstream. At the same time, she didn’t want his powerful gaze on her, sure she’d wilt beneath the magnificence of his murky, pond water-colored eyes.

  He waited with all the patience of a mo
nk, and River couldn’t stand to be in the same space as him for much longer. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She twisted, entered the house, and closed the door behind her.

  Exhaling, she leaned into the door and pressed her eyes closed. Dear Lord, she prayed. How am I going to survive living in Gold Valley with Ty Barker?

  God didn’t have an answer for her, and River felt as though she’d been stung by an army of red ants. She thought she’d be able to find a new start in Gold Valley. Thought she’d be able to find peace away from the hustle and bustle of the big cities where she used to live. Thought she’d be able to build a life for her girls and raise them with good values.

  She had not even considered that Ty would still be in town, though she should have known better. A country boy at heart, she couldn’t imagine Ty anywhere with more people than cattle. A city like Las Vegas would swallow him whole. It had River, and she loved a thriving city, with more than one grocery store and highways and byways that crisscrossed the metropolis.

  “Mama,” Hannah said, and River opened her eyes, choosing to put one foot in front of the other, just like she had when she’d left Las Vegas. Along with that, she believed if she kept her faith in the Lord, He’d guide her where she needed to go.

  She scraped her hair off her forehead and gave Hannah a tired smile. “Look at what you’ve done, baby doll.” She stroked the little girl’s hair and said, “Now we add everything and then you’ll keep stirring.”

  Ty’s disappointment over River’s laughter and subsequent rejection wafted behind him like a foul scent. His mother noticed when he arrived at their house, and she questioned him relentlessly until he muttered something about the lawn and escaped to the backyard.

  Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he’d thought asking River to get involved with community service was a good idea. He just knew he’d felt like he should, so he’d jumped in his truck and gone to her mother’s house. Seeing the two blonde girls hanging onto their grandmother’s legs had taken the wind right out of his sails. And yet, he’d still asked River if she’d wanted to help, as if she didn’t already have her hands full.

  The roar of the lawnmower kept Ty’s mutterings mute to the rest of the world. As he berated himself for such grand notions, he clipped his parents’ yard to pure perfection. He showered, and denied his mother the opportunity to feed him dinner—a rare occurrence indeed. If she hadn’t known something was off then, she certainly would’ve when he bypassed the homemade waffles and plate of bacon.

  “What’s wrong?” She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head at him, her dark eyes blazing with determination.

  “Nothin’, Ma. Don’t want to talk about it.” He picked up a waffle and smeared peanut butter on it like it was a piece of bread. “I will eat here.”

  “Everything okay at the ranch?”

  “Nothing ever changes at the ranch.” He took a big bite of his waffle sandwich, thinking he should just tell him mom about River Lee. She’d find out anyway, and if he just blurted it out, he wouldn't have to endure the questioning.

  “The riding lessons, then?” She spoke with a quietness in her tone but with eyes so sharp they cut right through Ty’s defenses.

  He shook his head, swallowed, and said, “Did you know River Lee Whitely is back in town? And that she has two daughters?”

  Everything about his mom softened. She glanced over Ty’s shoulder as his dad entered the kitchen. “I had heard she was back, yes.”

  “Who’s back?” His dad slid a waffle onto a plate and slathered it with butter.

  “River Lee Whitely,” his mom said before Ty could somehow communicate with her nonverbally.

  “River Lee?” His dad abandoned his waffle prep and pinned Ty with a look. “You’re still hung up on her?”

  Ty grabbed a handful of bacon and put it on a plate. “I was never ‘hung up’ on her, Dad.”

  “You were sneakin’ out all the time to see her.”

  “Once,” Ty said. “I snuck out once. And it wasn’t like I was twelve years old.”

  “Doesn’t matter how old you were.” He spooned sugared strawberries onto his waffle. “Bein’ older is worse. No control over your hormones.”

  Ty scoffed and took his food to the table. His mom watched the exchange with too much interest, and Ty had the urge to get out of the house as quickly as possible. He shoved the rest of his waffle in his mouth and chewed with vigor. The waffle scraped his throat as he practically swallowed it whole.

  “I have to go.”

  “Have fun,” his mom said, while his dad added, “Be good.”

  Ty waved to indicate that he’d heard them, but every step he took was fueled by frustration. So he’d snuck out once to meet River Lee at the drive-in. He didn’t have a car, but she did. Nothing had happened. In fact, he’d barely slipped his fingers between hers before his dad had pounded on the window and demanded Ty get out of the sedan.

  Even after that embarrassing incident, River Lee had still been interested in him. If only she hadn’t said she couldn’t wait to leave Gold Valley. Couldn’t wait to start college. Couldn’t wait to “get on with her life.”

  She’d told him all of that after he’d taken her on the Ferris wheel, after he’d bought a caramel apple to share, after they’d danced around the square, after they’d snuck off to a secret spot behind the rodeo stands and kissed. They’d found a patch of grass illuminated by the moonlight and lay in each other’s arms, whispering secrets until long past his curfew.

  And she’d done exactly what she’d said she wanted to do. She’d left Gold Valley. She’d gone to college. She’d gotten on with her life.

  A life that didn’t include him.

  Even after he’d kissed her, she hadn’t made room for him in her life. He’d held her anyway, smiled at her dreams anyway, told her he’d see her later anyway.

  And he had seen her. But he hadn’t touched her again. Hadn’t kissed her more than that one, magical time behind the rodeo stands, her words always a barrier between them. Then…but maybe not now.

  A smile graced Ty’s face, and he wondered if maybe God had led River Lee home right when she was supposed to be here.

  He arrived at the park and helped set up the refreshment tables, the dance floor, and the sound equipment for the band. It was a big job for only a handful of people, and he was certain everything would be easier with only one more pair of hands.

  River Lee’s hands.

  Forget about it, Ty, he told himself just before a brunette launched herself at him with a squeal and the strength of a python in her legs as she wrapped them around his body.

  “There you are,” she said with more flirt in her voice than anything else. “I’ve missed you.”

  Ty held onto Whitney, because he had little other choice. Number one, he didn’t want to drop the girl. Number two, technically, one could say they were dating. Ty had asked her to dance two weeks ago, and then taken her for ice cream afterward. And at last week’s shindig, he hadn’t danced with anyone but her and they’d gone stargazing at the waterfalls after the festivities ended.

  But with the reappearance of River Lee in his life, he’d completely, one-hundred percent forgotten about Whitney. He groaned and pretended it was because of her body attached to his. But really, it was the sound of his heart dying just a little bit.

  Chapter 3

  Ty rose with the sun, his muscles anxious for a few hours of good hard work. He adored the morning chores, the way the world awakened to golden light, the stillness and silence of the sunbeams on snow or sod.

  He’d slept poorly the night before, after a long dance filled with glances to make sure River Lee didn’t show up and see him dancing with someone else. He’d lain in bed, wondering why he cared. She’d made it pretty clear how she felt about reuniting with him, and it wasn’t like he could keep his reputation a secret. He’d been out with almost every eligible woman in Gold Valley under age forty. In fact, he’d all but given up on finding someone he wanted to spend longer than
a few hours with.

  Because of his work on the ranch, he didn’t see his girlfriends all that much, which was usually just fine by him. But as he filled the bull watering troughs, and took horses out to pastures, and rode a four-wheeler out to check on the nearest segment of the herd, all he could think about was the next time he could see River Lee.

  He returned to his cabin in time to shower and leap down his front steps just as Caleb and Holly climbed into her truck. “Can I catch a ride with y’all?”

  Caleb scanned him from the tips of his boots to the tie he wore loosely around his neck. He started to work it into the proper knot while Caleb appraised him. “Sure thing.”

  Holly already rode immediately next to Caleb, so Ty climbed into the cab and pulled the door closed behind him. “Thanks.”

  It wasn’t an anomaly for Ty to go to church. Sometimes he did, and sometimes he didn’t. So why was Caleb giving him that look with the glint in his eye?

  “What?” he finally asked.

  “Nothing,” Caleb said, focusing his attention out the windshield again.

  But his best friend’s nothing was definitely something. Ty didn’t want to get into whatever it was at the moment, so he simply looked out his window and enjoyed the easiness of being with his friends on the way to church.

  People streamed from the parking lot into the building with the stained glass window that Ty had always loved. A few years ago, another cowboy on the ranch, Landon Edmunds, had organized the community to clean the window. Ty had been the first in line, and it was from that service that he’d started volunteering in the community. He’d started small, with judging the cattle at the county fair. Last year, he’d done that as well as helped to organize and set up the carnival. And this year, he was in charge of several summer activities. His community service felt all-encompassing and overwhelming, but Ty still enjoyed it.