by C. A. Harms
“I’m so happy you’re home,” my mother whispered while holding me close. “And it would seem I’m not the only one who feels that way, either.” She pulled back and looked down at the two massive dogs sitting at our sides. They both wagged their tails as they panted, their heads shifting simultaneously between my mother and me. They looked like two bobbleheads, just awaiting the moment I said one word to them before they could pounce.
Bending down, I snuggled them both, and they accepted my lovin’s without pause. Dazy pawed at my shoulder, while Teddy practically crawled into my lap. Apparently, they’d missed me since my last visit more than eight months ago.
“Is that my girl?” I heard my father’s grumbling voice from the next room. In that instant, that little girl with pigtails following her daddy around like he hung the moon returned. That warm sensation ran through me, and I couldn’t help but smile. I was home again, and nothing had ever felt this comforting.
Chapter Two
Aaron
I sat on the back porch of my small two-bedroom home, just as I had so many times before. The view was amazing, so peaceful and calming, though, every time I allowed myself to feel even an ounce of serenity, it was quickly followed with that empty, hollow feeling inside. That ache so deep, so penetrating, it left me feeling as if everything was flipped upside down.
Part of me wanted to be able to get through the day without feeling so lost, but then, thoughts occurred that somehow meant I’d let go of another piece of the two I’d lost. It had gotten a little easier to think of them, to look at photographs or even watch old videos of Ivy and Lynn without falling completely apart. But the guilt was the one thing I couldn’t seem to let go of. Guilt that I was here and my little girl wasn’t. Guilt that I had allowed what was left of Lynn and me to fall apart without even trying to stop it.
If I found myself enjoying something, no matter how small and irrelevant—the fact that they were robbed of those small things drove me mad.
I lived my life with minimal things, only the necessities.
I chose to carry on for one simple reason: Ivy. I refused to give up because, in doing so, that would only mean I was allowing her memory to fade. She may not be here physically, but my sweet angel was always still with me. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see her face. I would hear her laughter, and although it made me feel unbelievably raw, I welcomed the sound. What I wouldn’t give to have her here so I could hold her close.
The sound of tires popping along the gravel drive reminded me of the day I had ahead of me. After I lost Lynn and Ivy, I packed up very little and got into my truck. I didn’t know where I’d go or what I’d do. I just knew staying in Texas was not an option. I drove for days, stopping in small towns when I got tired or hungry.
A week and a half after I left the home I shared with my wife and daughter, I ended up in Wyoming. I stumbled up the old wooden steps of a house I remembered from my childhood, tired, dirty, and lost. The moment the door came open and I was face to face with the woman who had raised me from the time I was eight, I lost it. I fell to my knees and let go of months of heartache. Granny Rae held me like a child, my head resting against her shoulder, and my body shook with deep sobs. She never once tried to calm me, only let me break apart piece by piece. She'd known of my loss and had come for the funeral. Even then, I didn’t break. After Ivy died, I think a part of me did too. I was nothing more than a shell of my former self, lost in my thoughts, buried by the burden of being unable to save her.
The first month here was a blur. I fell even further, lost in my grief. I drank my nights away and slept through my days. That was until Granny Rae’d had enough, and that woman from my childhood returned. The woman whom I feared all those years because she took no shit then, and she took no shit now.
I felt like a child again, but her laying out the facts before me was what I needed. The swift kick in the ass, my reality etched out, forcing me to face my demons. It was in that moment I understood I wasn’t alone. Though I felt as though I’d lost everything, she was the one thing that held my head above water.
Nothing about the last four years had been easy, and I still struggled to get through each day, but I had her to thank for keeping me going.
“You gonna get moving or do you wanna piss off Dirk again?”
I looked over to my left to find Walt staring back at me with his hands on his hips. The man was no more than one hundred and ten pounds and was too damn cocky for his own good. He was just lucky he was also Rae’s significant other, otherwise, I’d be less likely to tolerate his attitude.
“Morning to you too,” I retorted as I pushed up out of the old, wooden chair, hearing the creak of the frame give a little from the movement. It was damn near on its last leg, but it came with the property and had been my perch while drinking my morning coffee almost every day when there wasn’t snow on the ground and wind chills that would more than likely freeze my ass to the pallets.
“Old man Billings isn’t in the best of moods since his accident.” Walt chose to ignore what I’d said and keep up with his less than chipper attitude. “Us being late for deliveries isn’t gonna sit well with him.”
Dusty Creek Designs, our employer, was owned and operated by the creator himself, Dirk Billings. I’d admit the man was one hell of a craftsman. He could take an old block of wood and turn it into a masterpiece people would pay hundreds for. He paid us well, and he offered benefits most wouldn’t. He was a standup guy. He was also the only person who gave the stranger who just roamed into town a job. So, for the last four years, I’d delivered his work to the surrounding counties. Alongside Walt, who never let me slip up, I was sure per the instructions of Rae.
I took the steps two at a time and brushed past him as I rounded the corner of the house. Looking back over my shoulder, I arch my brow at Walt. “Get a move on, ole’ man, before you make us late,” I heard him mumbling unhappily, which made me smile, but only for a second as I took on that same state I’d lived in often. The effortless, broody male who refused to let himself feel anything other than blame and regret.
***
“I’ve got the pieces marked by order numbers.” Walt and I stood just beside the large desk that Dirk sat behind. His home office was just as impressive as the one in his shop. Large, expansive windows, floor to ceiling, overlooked the large property his gorgeous home sat upon. It appeared as if it went on forever.
He was in a large reclining chair with a desk tray near him still allowing him to carry out his daily tasks. The man never stopped, though I was sure his current condition would put a damper in his long hours of manual labor behind the saw and sanders.
“I’ve got the delivery notices in order based on distance. You should be able to start with the first one, and by the end, find yourself back here at home. They’ve each been notified of a general schedule for delivery. A two-hour window given to each location should give you more than enough time to remain on task.”
“We got it, boss,” Walt stated as he reached out to accept the clipboard. “You just rest and leave this up to us.”
I didn’t miss the way Dirk’s shoulders stiffened. “I’ll be back in that shop by the end of the week.”
“No, you won’t,” a soft voice said from behind us. “Even if I have to tie you to the chair myself.” I turned just in time to see a young woman step past Walt and me. “I’d like to see you attempt to wheel this chair down the gravel drive on your own.”
She leaned over and offered Dirk a kiss on his cheek. Her dark brown hair fell forward and shielded her face slightly. In that instant, the man lit up as I’d never seen before.
“Don’t tempt me darlin’,” he dared her, making her laugh. Her laughter alone made my stomach take on a tight feeling.
When she stood tall once more, it was then she looked toward me and Walt. She remained quiet as if waiting for an introduction. “Gentleman,” Dirk regained my attention, and I broke eye contact with the woman. “This beauty is my daughter, Faith. It wo
uld seem she felt as though leaving her glorious life in the Big Apple and coming back home to dote on her old crippled dad was a necessity.”
“It wasn’t that glamorous,” she corrected him, still watching me. “You know what they say. There’s no place like home. And let’s not forget that no matter how old a girl gets, she always still needs her daddy.”
Suddenly, I felt like the room was closing in around me as I took a step back and broke eye contact quickly. My chest ached with that crippling feeling, like with each breath I took, it grew even more impossible to breathe evenly. Suffocating, an anxious feeling rushed through me as I fought to stay above it all.
“You boys check back here after the deliveries are made.” I knew the conversation had continued without me, but the only thing I could focus on was the swooshing sound in my ears. Or the sound of my rapid heartbeat, feeling like the damn thing was gonna leap right out of my chest.
I didn’t even remember saying goodbye or exiting the house. Hell, I couldn’t even remember climbing up into the delivery truck as Walt placed himself behind the wheel, but we had. As my pulse returned to normal and everything around me grew clearer, it was then I realized we’d already reached our first destination more than twenty miles from the home of the girl who managed to sweep my feet out from under me.
It was like seeing a ghost.
The same chestnut hair, long and wavy. Those eyes, big doe eyes, that whenever you found them looking back at you there was honestly no fucking hope of not being affected. She didn’t have the same freckles across her nose and cheeks that Lynn did, but the resemblance was too damn close. My hands still shook; my entire body trembled, if I was being honest. I knew it wasn’t Lynn, I wasn’t that delusional, but for a moment, just one split second I let myself believe that my past wasn’t real. That I was back to the time when I’d seen Lynn for the first time, standing behind that counter in the local supermarket. Just fresh out of high school, working her way through college. The way she smiled back at me, batting those big beautiful eyes brought me to my knees almost immediately.
Chapter Three
Faith
I gathered my camera bag and slipped on my old hiking boots. As I exited my room, I could hear my father’s voice from the entryway down below, so I paused, taking the time to eavesdrop on the conversation taking place.
“You made good time, men,” my father said, and I could almost picture the pleased look on his face. “I’ve already gotten a couple calls about the prompt and reliable service the Dusty Creek provides.”
“It’s what you pay us to do.” It was the voice of the slender man that had been here earlier that morning.
“Aaron,” the name didn’t fit the guy, “I’d like to talk to you about working with me in the shop over the next month or so. At least until I heal and these women let go of the reins and allow me to get back to my work full time.”
I smiled because I was a little worse than my mother. She had a tendency to let him weasel his way toward the things he wanted. I, on the other hand, remained firm to the doctors’ orders.
“Whatever you need, sir.” It was at that moment I realized it wasn’t the older man he was speaking to, but the other guy. The one who grew rigid and unfriendly the moment my father introduced me. His reaction still puzzled me, even hours later. “You just tell me what it is you need.”
“I’m gonna set Randy up with Walt for tomorrow’s deliveries, and the rest of the week, actually,” my father continued. “I have about seven cabinetry orders that need to be sanded before they’re stained, and we have that order for Ms. Williams we need to get started on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” The deep, rugged voice, that baritone that sent chills through me, filtered up once again. I reached out to grip the railing as I peered over just enough to gain a small glimpse of the men below.
He stood just inside the door, the other man at his side as they faced my father, who sat in his powered chair. That was still a strange sight as my father was, and had always been, the type of man no one could keep down.
The mysterious man was strong and confident with wide shoulders and thick arms. At least three days’ worth of stubble covered his face, and the thought of the roughness rubbing along my neck, along my chest and stomach, over my inner thighs…chills covered me as I shivered without being able to stop it.
“Come hell or high water, I’ll be down there by six a.m. tomorrow.” The sound of my father’s voice brought me back to the present. I arched my brow and waited out the conversation before I decided to interrupt.
“How do you plan on sneaking out?”
I smiled at the question the man I now knew as Aaron asked.
“There will be no sneaking, son,” my dad assured him. “I’ve got things under control around her, and if I want to do something, I’ll do it.”
I pick that time to start down the stairs, and with the tap of my shoes against each step, I gained the full attention of all three men. I almost laughed at the alarmed look on my father’s face.
“Six a.m., sharp.” I arched my brow and focused on my father, though I could feel the eyes of the other men on me. “You can’t walk down there, and you sure can't drive this chair to the workshop. So, tell me, how do you plan on getting there?”
“Crawl.” He smirked, knowing that wasn’t an option but loving teasing all the same.
“You heard what the doctor said about taking things slow.” I reached the bottom of the stairs and held firmly onto the strap of my camera bag. “You are just gonna have to face the fact that you aren’t going to be able to work for a few weeks.”
“Darlin', I know you—”
“Daddy,” I cut him off, knowing full well of the argument he was about to give me, “the orders can wait. Your health comes first.”
“It’s a hip, not my heart.” The stubborn man actually pouted. I shook my head at him and heard one of the men at my side chuckle. I assumed the younger one was Aaron, whom I had quickly come to realize was a bit on the broody side. He didn’t really look like a man who found humor in much of anything, really.
“If I’m not mistaken, a hip is a necessity, if you ever want to move around normally again.” My father didn’t argue. “So, again, you need to heal, and trying to go against your doctor’s orders is only going to prolong your healing process. If you’ve got things that need to be done, then I suggest you use the service of the men who work for you and keep your butt planted right where it is in the process. Otherwise, I could find some straps and a padlock to ensure you do just that.”
“Stubborn girl,” he grumbled.
“I wonder where I get it," I added as I stepped around the men and opened the front door. “I’m going out to shoot a few shots before the sun completely sets. Have a nice night, gentlemen.” I didn’t look back, as I imagined my father giving me the evil eye. He didn’t take anyone telling him what to do lightly. He was a man with authority issues. The only time he tolerated it was when he was the one slinging it around. The poor man had no idea what was coming his way because he didn’t scare me in the slightest. I was home now, and I had every intention of ensuring he was fully taken care of. Whether he liked it or not, he would be following the rules of his doctor.
***
The sun cast an orange haze over the tall, grassy land that stretched out over the hills of my father’s property. In the distance, there was an old barn that was mainly used to store farming equipment, which I wasn’t even sure worked anymore. An old, rickety fence—one that looked as though it may not withstand the strongest of winds—gave the perfect backdrop to the scenery. I snapped one photo after another then looked at the display to see how they turned out. It was a gorgeous moment captured by the lens. Shifting to the left, I shot a few different angles of the Andersons’ house, way off in the distance. I smiled when one of their horses ran through the scene, and I clicked in a hurry to catch them in one of the shots. I spent the next thirty minutes shooting various things, shifting around every so often to
capture even the smallest of change.
Finally taking a break, I sat with my back resting against the barn and looked through the images I had shot over the last hour. I was excited to get back to the house to edit and develop. That was my favorite part: watching it all come to life.
I paused on one image in particular. It managed to stand out among the others. It was a shot I had snapped on impulse. I couldn’t see him clearly, but the stance—the strong, wide, expanding back and shoulders—there was no denying who it was. I was hidden by the barn, but when I heard the men’s voices in the darkness, I moved to the corner and peeked around. Both men, the older one and Aaron, walked down the steps of my parents’ home and toward the truck parked off to the side of the driveway.
Positioning myself, I’d crouched down and focused, snapping one shot after another. The glow of the setting sun was the perfect lighting, and his shadow almost looked surreal. Zooming in closer and focusing on him alone, the result was breathtaking.
The image told a story. I just wasn’t sure yet which one. But something about him made me fully aware of the fact that hidden behind that broodiness was a man with secrets. Maybe even a man with demons.
And I knew it shouldn’t, but it all intrigued me. Like a torturous puzzle that needed to be solved.
Chapter Four
Aaron
I awoke with a jolt, sitting up in bed and my heart beating rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. One deep inhale after another, I looked around the darkened room and realized the sun had not even risen yet.
Looking to the left of my bed, I noticed the glowing numbers on the alarm clock and stared at them for a few passing seconds, focusing on them, but my mind was still lost in the depths of the same nightmare I’d relived for years. Her sweet cries still rang out in my ears. My eyes burned as I fought against the rush of emotions I felt when, yet again, I came to the realization that my little girl was gone.
