The Long Way Home

by Liz Isaacson

  “According to his rules,” Katie said. “My next client just showed up. I have to go.”

  “Bye,” River said, her voice hollow and robotic. “Don’t be stupid,” she told herself as she flipped her car into gear and turned toward the valley. “Of course you’re not dating just because he bought pizza one time.”

  She eyed her phone, sitting there in the console, taunting her to just call Ty and invite him to lunch. It wasn’t a date if her mother was there, was it?

  “Apparently it’s not a date until he kisses you,” she muttered, not quite sure how she felt about his rule. Not quite sure how she felt about him. But quite sure she wanted to find out, even if it took a while. After all, he’d said he liked a challenge, that he wasn’t a quitter. Well, she did too, and the only thing she’d ever quit was her marriage because her husband had decided he liked his secretary more than his wife.

  She pulled the car to the side of the road and snatched the phone from the console. She had Ty’s number dialed before she could second-guess herself.

  Ty sat in his truck, alone at the drive-in. His mother would make dinner, but she never made lunch, and after a morning of near-disastrous horseback riding lessons, Ty needed nourishment. His phone rang, and he glanced at it, choking at the name on the screen of his phone. River Lee.

  He thought for sure he’d just thrown his chance at a relationship with her down the drain when he’d climbed on that horse behind her.

  Answer it, his mind screamed at him. Answer it before she hangs up!

  He swiped on the call at the same time he swallowed the bite of hamburger he had in his mouth. “Hello?” Maybe she’d dropped her phone and someone else had picked it up.

  “Ty, hey.”

  Definitely her voice. “River Lee?”

  “Are you surprised it’s me? Doesn’t your phone tell you who’s calling?”

  “Yeah, and…yeah.”

  She huffed into the phone, but he didn’t offer anything else. She was the one embarrassed to be seen with him. He’d felt her relax all the way against him on that horse, and he wanted to hold her like that every day, whisper in her ear all kinds of things, smell the coconut of her shampoo as he lathered her hair in the shower.

  He pulled back on his fantasies, putting a tight leash on them so they didn’t infect him more than they already had.

  Because he’d also witnessed her glancing around, stiffening when she realized how many people were watching them, putting off a cold vibe at his proximity.

  “I promised Lexi and Hannah sandwiches for lunch,” she said. “I was wondering…well, I was…I thought maybe you’d like one too.”

  Ty glanced at the bag of food on the seat next to him. “I like sandwiches.”

  “What kind?”

  “Are you going to the sandwich shop or the deli?”

  “The deli. Should I go to the sandwich shop?”

  “No, the deli is way better.” Part butcher, part lunch and dinner station, Ty much preferred the sandwiches at the deli. Paul sliced the meat fresh, and he spent mornings carving meat and making homemade bread. “I like the roast beef with avocado and sprouts at the deli. It’s called the Hulk.”

  “The Hulk, got it.”

  “Full size,” he said, though he’d just eaten half of a combo meal. He didn’t much care if he ate at all; he’d be spending time with River Lee.

  And her kids, his mind whispered, and Ty acknowledged himself. Of course her kids. He couldn’t expect her to leave them with her mom on the weekends too.

  “I can swing by the store and get something to drink,” he offered. “What do Hannah and Lexi like?”

  “That would be great. Thanks, Ty. Let’s see, Hannah’s favorite is ginger ale, and Lexi likes those lemon-lime sports drinks.”

  “And you?” he asked. “And don’t say water.”

  She laughed, and Ty thought maybe his blunder would be forgiven. “I don’t know what to say now.”

  “Chocolate milk?” he suggested. “Lemonade?”

  “Oh, yeah, do they still have that mango lemonade at the grocery store?”

  “In those glass bottles, yeah. I’ll get you one.” He’d get her a whole case if she’d let him hold her again. “See you soon.”

  After swinging by the grocery store and getting the drinks, he parked in front of her mother’s house, his stomach rioting against the fast food he’d already eaten. He didn’t understand the feeling. Ty didn’t get nervous around girls. Hadn’t since….

  He froze, his feet growing roots right there on the front lawn. He hadn’t been nervous around girls since River Lee left, almost like he knew he didn’t need to worry about ending up with any of them. Like all those relationships would never be serious, never be long-lasting, because those girls weren’t River Lee.

  As if the sky had clouded over and a storm had struck, fear bolted through Ty. He’d carried a soft spot for River Lee since their summer fling all those years ago, true. He liked her a lot, true. He wanted to get to know her better, true.

  But also true was that if he did, he’d have to be patient. He’d have to be serious. And he’d have to stop dancing.

  “She’s worth it,” he mumbled to himself as he got his feet going again. “And you’re tired of dancing anyway.”

  And for the first time, Ty believed himself.

  As River Lee and her mother cleaned up their backyard picnic, Ty lifted Hannah onto his shoulders and took Lexi by the hand. “We’re gonna walk over to the duck pond,” he told River Lee, a sliver of joy slicing through him. He hadn’t realized how fulfilling a family could be. His sisters had left a long time ago, and meals with his parents just weren’t the same as the lively, boisterous affair he’d just participated in.

  Soda had been spilled, and mayo smeared everywhere, and River Lee had smiled and taken care of everything. She’d changed into cutoffs that showed the length of her legs and a tank top the color of ripe peaches. She’d told her girls stories about the time her and Ty were in high school, and he liked listening to her version of that summer.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll come,” she said.

  “We won’t walk fast.” He took the girls around the side of the house to the front sidewalk, and sure enough, River Lee joined them before they’d even reached the end of the street.

  “I brought some bread.” She held up a zipper bag with two slices inside. “You girls are going to have to take a nap when we get back.”

  Neither of them complained, and Ty said, “Can I take a nap too?”

  River Lee laced her hand through his free elbow and giggled. “I think you have yard work to do at your mom’s.”

  “Oh, yeah, I do.” He flashed her a smile and turned the corner. He hadn’t grown up on this side of Gold Valley, but everyone knew about this duck pond. He’d ridden his bike to it with his family almost every Sunday morning before church. After church, they’d go to the monthly picnic or to the waterfalls, and the fact that Ty didn’t have any of his own personal traditions suddenly registered.

  He worked too much, he reasoned. When he had time off, he just wanted to ride his horse or relax with a bite to eat.

  “I don’t remember us sneaking into that movie,” he said, repositioning his grip on Lexi’s hand.

  “You lifted the rope to the balcony and ushered me under,” she said. “We barely made it around the corner before we heard someone talking in the lobby.”

  “We went up into the balcony?” The theater in town had never opened the balcony for a movie, not that Ty knew of. He searched his memory for the time he’d gone up there with River Lee. He thought he remembered everything they’d done together.

  “I sort of remember that now,” he said as the memory, dark and blurry as it was, floated forward. “There were only a few rows of seats, and they weren’t even bolted to the ground.”

  She laughed. “It was scary, actually. I thought we might fall through the floor.”

  “We didn’t stay,” he said, remembering now. “We didn�
��t even sit down.”

  “I wasn’t going to sit in those seats. They looked like someone had been sick on them.” She walked so close to him, every cell in Ty’s body became hyperaware of her presence. “We went and—”

  “We got ice cream and went to the waterfalls.”

  She sighed, the happy, content type of sigh Ty liked. “I love the waterfalls.”

  “I liked going there with you,” he said, tightening his arm against hers. He slipped his fingers into hers, holding hands much more intimate than just having her arm linked in his. “That was pretty much the perfect summer for me.” An echo of old bitterness edged his throat, but he swallowed it away. “Did you like that summer, River Lee?”

  Their eyes met, and she didn’t have to answer verbally for him to know she’d enjoyed that summer with him.

  “Why do you insist on calling me River Lee?” she asked, genuine curiosity in her tone.

  He lifted one shoulder into a shrug. “It’s who you are.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Yes,” he said. “You’re not ‘just River.’ Not to me. That just…doesn’t fit with what I know about you. I even tried saying it to myself in the mirror.” He chuckled, somewhat in disbelief that he’d admitted his trial run on her name to her. “It’s just not you.”

  “It is exactly me, Ty,” she said, a twinge of anger in her voice now. “You don’t know me very well at all. I’m not the same as I was thirteen years ago.”

  “Sure you are,” he argued. “So you went off and got a degree and had a couple of cute little girls. You’re still River Lee Whitely to me.” He glanced at her, and her stiff shoulders and pressed lips didn’t deter him from adding, “And I liked her.” He squeezed her hand. “I liked her then, and I like her now. A lot.”

  She softened, but only slightly, and in the next few seconds, they arrived at the pond. She released his hand and gathered her girls around her so they could toss chunks of bread to the quacking mass of ducks.

  Ty stood a few feet back, watching and waiting for River Lee to invite him to join them. She never did. She didn’t even glance over her shoulder to see where he’d gone. Frustration filled him, and he wondered if maybe he’d gone too fast for her. Admitting he liked her and all.

  But she’d touched him first. She’d invited him to lunch at her mom’s place. She seemed to like him too, even if she didn’t say it outright in words he could hear. He saw it in her eyes, felt it in her touch, knew it by how she acted.

  Maybe just try calling her River, he thought as the bread ran out. But he wasn’t sure he could actually make his mouth do such a thing.

  Chapter 9

  “Time to go,” River Lee said, and Ty turned toward her voice. He’d taken Lexi around the pond a bit so she could see the duck nests.

  “C’mon,” he said to the five-year-old. “Your mom says we have to go.”

  Lexi put her hand in Ty’s and went with him back to the path that edged the road. “Mom, can we come here tomorrow too?”

  “Maybe, sweetie.” River Lee glanced at Ty and darted her gaze away again. She’d been generating that cool vibe again since their conversation about her name.

  “Maybe Mister Ty can take me,” Lexi said.

  “Sure,” Ty said. “We can go after church.” He glanced at River Lee and realized he’d said the wrong thing. “I mean, if your mom says it’s okay.”

  Lexi trained her baby blue eyes on River Lee. “Mom?”

  “I said maybe.”

  Ty wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to commit. There wasn’t a picnic after church tomorrow, and surely she didn’t have plans. They walked toward the corner in silence, the girls running ahead to look at a butterfly.

  “Sorry, River.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth, the absence of “Lee” so pronounced it practically floated in the air between them anyway. He slipped his hand into hers. “I’ll check with you before tellin’ her I can do things.”

  “Thank you,” she practically whispered, her voice hoarse.

  “Is there a reason you can’t come to the pond tomorrow after church?” he asked.

  She called to Lexi to wait at the corner, but made no effort to speed her steps to reach her. When she didn’t answer his question, he said, “River?”

  She paused and looked at him. He gazed back steadily, unsure of which emotion dominated her expression. She looked almost sad, but when she smiled, he wasn’t sure. “I don’t like it when you call me River.” She reached up and brushed her fingertips across the brim of his cowboy hat.

  A shiver sailed down his spine, and a crazy amount of heat pooled in his stomach, and she’d only touched his hat. “What am I supposed to call you, then?” He dipped his head closer to hers, trying to get a whiff of her perfume, her shampoo, something.

  She shifted her feet closer to his, and he was rewarded with the soft floral scent of her perfume. He took a deep breath, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was, and ran his free hand up her bare arm. “River?”

  Now close enough to kiss her, Ty fought the urge. He didn’t want to do it in broad daylight, for anyone to see. Number two, her girls waited a quarter of a block away. The magic between them sizzled though, and Ty couldn’t fight his attraction, his desire, his need for her much longer.

  So he stepped back. Broke all contact between them. Cleared his throat. “I better get goin’. My mom’s lawn isn’t gonna mow itself.” He stepped, his stride long but so unsure, toward the corner.

  “Come on, girls.” He swept them both into his arms and crossed the street, never looking back to see if River Lee was coming.

  River let Ty carry her kids back to her mother’s. She let him charm his way into their hearts—her mother’s included. Hers too, if she were being honest. The way he drawled her name, the way his rough-and-tumble hand felt in hers, the way the scent of his cologne sent clouds straight into her head spoke of how far she’d let him in.

  Still, she wasn’t sure about his declaration that she was the same person she’d been thirteen years ago. River knew she wasn’t, and she didn’t like that he viewed her as that teenage girl. Was that really who he saw when he looked at her?

  With every step back to the house, she told herself to get over it. The man liked her—had said it right out loud. It didn’t matter what name he called her, as long as he called her.

  She chuckled to herself. “Shoulda told him that,” she said. She really could use some lessons in flirting, but Ty didn’t seem to be holding her inept ability to talk to him, tell him important things, or flirt with him against her.

  She waited, leaning against the passenger door of his truck, while he took Lexi and Hannah inside. He returned a couple of minutes later, a smile stuck to his face that rivaled the power of the sun.

  “Thanks for coming to lunch,” she said, giving him a grin that paled in comparison to his.

  He swept her off her feet, causing her to giggle, and into a tight embrace, his face pressed into the hollow of her neck. “Anytime, sweetheart.” He set her back on her feet and pulled back. “Can I call you that?”

  She punched his chest lightly. “River Lee is fine.”

  He arched his eyebrows. “It is?”

  “I kinda like it when you say it.”

  “Only me, though, right?” His hands slipped around her again, drew her against his chest again, sweeter and softer this time.

  “If I’m the only one you’re going to dinner and lunch with, then yes. Only you.”

  He dropped his hands and fell back like she’d caught on fire. “What does that mean?” He peered at her, those dreamy eyes glittering under his cowboy hat. “You think I’m going out with other girls?”

  River shrugged, though the thought had crossed her mind. “Katie said—”

  “Blazes,” he said under his breath. “I am gonna stop talkin’ to Katie Chamberlain.” He started around the front of his truck. “As soon as I call her and tell her to stop talkin’ to you.”

  Because she thought he’d leav
e, she jumped into his truck at the same time he opened the driver’s door. “I have to go to my parents’,” he said. “I don’t think you want to come.”

  “Don’t call Katie,” she said, folding her arms.

  “I won’t if you won’t.” He glared at her, as much passion in him as she remembered. She wondered—not for the first time since they’d been reunited a week ago—what it would feel like to kiss him now. Now that he was older. Now that she was.

  “She just said that you don’t consider yourself dating someone until you kiss them.” She tightened her arms, trying to keep all the pieces of herself from spilling out all over his truck. “And….” She hardened her resolve and gave his glare back to him. “I don’t want to be your summer fling.”

  He flinched liked she’d punched him, falling back against the window behind him. “River Lee,” he said, his voice filled with all kinds of hurt. “I—I wouldn’t—” He twisted, started the truck, and planted both hands on the steering wheel. His fingers flexed and tightened, flexed and tightened. “I have to go.”

  “Ty.”

  “Can you please get out?”

  “No.” She slid across the seat, her bare legs sticking a bit to the seat cover. “No, I will not get out. Not until you finish what you were going to say.”

  “I’ve said it all.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?” He faced her, a dozen emotions racing across his beautiful face. “I just told you I liked you a lot. I let you bottle up what you should be saying. I come whenever you call me. I go wherever you want to go. And you still think I’m playing with you?” He pointed at her and then him. “This isn’t a game to me, River Lee.”

  She swallowed, the surprise at his outburst making her mind go blank.

  “I’m not seeing anyone else.” He exhaled and faced forward again, his hands going back to the steering wheel. Flex and tighten. Flex and tighten. “I don’t even want to see someone else.”