by Erica Penrod
Waylon laughed. “I won’t tell her. You should’ve seen her working on it. It was something her grandma taught her how to do, and she was trying to remember the stitches as she put that thing together.”
“I appreciate the gesture.” Howard coughed. “Now get this thing moving, boy.”
“Hold on, one more blanket. It’s chilly outside.” Waylon grabbed the quilt from Howard’s bed and draped the thick blanket around Howard’s legs. December rolled into Seattle with a cold chip on its shoulder, and the sun rarely hung around for more than a couple hours a day.
“Grab my hat, son.” Howard gestured to the old Stetson hanging on the wall.
Waylon was about to insist on a stocking cap, but he didn’t have the heart. He handed Howard the hat.
“Thank you.” Howard pushed the hat down, and Waylon adjusted the throw, making sure it was up around the man’s neck, close to his ears. “Now get me out of here.”
“Yes, sir.” Waylon pushed Howard into the hallway and towards the back doors of the great room, which opened onto the back deck. The temperature met them in a cold embrace.
“It’s as cold out here as an ex-wife’s heart.” Howard shivered as Waylon stopped, tucking the blankets tighter around the frail man.
“Hattie’s going to kill me over this. I shouldn’t have you out here.”
“Ah, that nurse will be fine if you quit your yacking and fussing and get me into the barn before I freeze to death.”
Waylon picked up the pace and pushed Howard down the ramp Jamon had built soon after Howard’s diagnosis. On the flat ground, Waylon began jogging as rain began to fall. Minutes later, they were at the barn. Waylon opened the door and was greeted by the warmth of the fire in the fireplace. “That’s better.” He pushed Howard inside and closed the doors behind them.
Howard’s eyes perked up, and a hint of color touched his cheeks. His red nose was more likely the mark of a winter’s kiss rather than the man’s affection for the barn. “Take me down the aisles before I get too tired.” Howard seemed resigned to the fact that his body wasn’t capable of much anymore. “This cancer fighting is a nasty business and takes its toll.”
Waylon touched Howard’s shoulder. A skeletal hand reached up and covered Waylon’s.
“Thanks for bringing me out here.”
“You’re welcome. Besides, I think the horses have missed you as much as you’ve missed them. Jamon said that new little filly you brought back from Texas doesn’t want a thing to do with anyone.”
“Of course she don’t.” His thin lips spread into a smile. “That one there is my girl.”
“She sure is built beautiful.”
Howard nodded. “She sure is.” He reached to tug on his missing beard, then scratched his chin. “Speaking of, you and your young lady seem to be doing all right.”
Waylon smiled. “Yeah, we are.” They moved down the left aisle of the barn and stopped in front of the filly’s gate, where Howard was greeted with a neigh. Waylon put the brake on the chair and leaned over the rail as the horse stuck her head out for Howard to pet. “Almost too good.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m worried it’s too good to last. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I’m scared I’m going to mess it up.” Waylon chewed the inside of his cheek. “And I don’t want to tell her I’m scared, because then she’ll think I’m going to use again.”
Howard raised his head and looked up at him. “Are you sure that’s what Tayla thinks, or is it the addiction talking?”
Waylon shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think it matters how long I stay clean. It seems like everyone’s expecting me to use again the second I get upset.”
“Son.” The cadence in Howard’s voice was like a chord of truth Waylon listened for during the storms of life. “The addiction wants you to keep your feelings inside. It doesn’t want you to admit when you’re scared or hurt to anyone but it.”
“I know that, but I don’t want everyone to be worried about me all the time. I’d like to be someone they can depend on too.”
“Something I’ve learned in life is that when you mess up, you can apologize and try to right the wrong, and people can forgive you, but that doesn’t change the consequences.” Howard’s eyes softened with understanding. “It’s like a man set a trap to catch a varmint but caught his dog’s foot instead. He can set the dog free and never do it again, but the dog still limps.”
Waylon saw the image in his mind and nodded.
“Your addiction broke the trust between you and Jamon, and I don’t think that’s something that can ever be fully restored, at least not in this lifetime.”
A wave of nausea rolled through Waylon’s gut.
“And that’s okay. You’ll be an addict for the rest of your life, and somewhere in the back of Jamon’s mind, whether it’s conscious or not, he’ll be on guard. That’s the consequence of the history between you two. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you or can’t be proud of the man you are now.”
“I know.” Waylon appreciated Jamon for being a big enough man to give Waylon chance after chance. “I wish it could be different.”
Howard went back to petting the horse. “I know you do, but you can’t change the past. All you can do is make today count. Talk to Jamon and Tayla. Don’t hide your feelings, or you’ll end up in trouble.”
“Thanks, Howard.” Waylon looked away as his eyes misted. He couldn’t imagine losing this man and how the loss would shake the earth beneath his boots. He couldn’t think about that now. Howard was right. Waylon had today, and he had to make the best of it. “I’ll never be able to thank you for all you’ve done for Jamon and me.”
Howard gazed up as tears pooled in his eyes. “Now don’t get all mushy on me, boy.” He dabbed at the moisture. “Save that for your girly friend.” Deep creases lined his cheeks as he smiled.
“Alright.” Waylon shook his head, but inside his chest, his heart nodded. It was time to tell that girl just how he felt about her.
Sixteen
“I told you we were going fishing.” Tayla was behind the wheel of her Ferrari with Waylon in the passenger seat; between them, their poles protruded from the trunk compartment all the way to the front windshield. Charlie snoozed on Waylon’s lap, apparently lulled to sleep by the warm leather and steady motion. The overcast day and slight drizzle added to the holiday atmosphere. Christmas lights hung on the rooftops and storefront windows depicted winter scenes, while Bing Crosby crooned on the radio.
“Yeah, but why are we going this way?” Waylon raised his brow and lines furrowed his forehead as they headed in the opposite direction of Pine Lake.
Tayla stopped at a red light. “Can you just trust me on this?” She didn’t stare into his eyes for longer than necessary, afraid he might see the anticipation in her own. “You’re going fishing, and all will be well.”
Waylon grinned, and she nearly drowned in his dimples. “You sure are cute when you’re bossy.”
She pouted her lips and scowled. “I am not bossy.” Her mouth broke into a smile. “Okay, maybe a little.”
They continued to drive until they reached Elliot Bay Marina. “What are we doing here?” Waylon gawked around at the hundreds of luxury boats parked along the docks. “Did you rent a yacht?”
“Something like that.” She pulled up to the valet parking. Tayla got out as Charlie whined, his nap interrupted. “Come on, boy.”
She picked up the dog and met Waylon at the trunk, where they gathered their poles and tackle box. Waylon glanced around. “If I would’ve known we were coming here, I might’ve dressed a little differently.” He wore a wool-lined plaid flannel jacket over a hoodie and her favorite pair of jeans worn in all the right places. Tufts of hair waved beneath his Hooey ball cap, and stubble covered his face.
“You look good to me.” She leaned in and kissed his lips, and Charlie added one of his own. “Come on before it starts raining too bad.”
Waylon wiped Charl
ie’s kiss from his cheek and closed the trunk.
“Thank you.” Tayla handed the valet her fob and a tip. “We’re supposed to meet John Kays here. Do you know where we might find him?”
“Right here, Ms. Mills.” A slim man in a captain’s hat and a neatly trimmed moustache walked over and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”
Tayla put Charlie on the ground and clutched his leash. “You too.” She pumped his hand. “This is Waylon West.”
Waylon shook the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“If you’ll follow me, Ms. Mills, I think you’ll find everything to your satisfaction.”
Tayla beamed at Waylon, who eyed her cautiously, like he was waiting for the punch line. “Yes, thank you.”
They walked around a spacious white building and onto one of the many docks housing a surplus of gorgeous yachts. Tayla’s stomach fluttered as she inhaled the salty air and heard the cry of birds searching for a winter’s scrap. She didn’t know anything about yachts, and she’d done some research, but—pun intended—she felt like a fish out of water.
“Yours will be the last boat on the right.” Mr. Kays pointed towards the largest yacht on the row.
“Whew.” Waylon whistled as the boat came into clear view. “That’s something else.”
“Your captain for the day, Christopher Jones, will be here shortly.” Mr. Kays handed Tayla the keys. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you for your help.” Tayla picked up Charlie, who stayed close to her side, and stepped onto the back deck as Mr. Kays left.
Waylon followed, setting the tackle box and poles to the side, and buttoned up his coat. “I can’t imagine what this thing cost to rent for the day.” He looked up at the upper deck and then over the side. “Hey, you’re never going to believe this.” Waylon pointed. “I didn’t notice before, but this yacht has my mother’s name.”
Tayla smiled, walked over and stood beside Waylon with Charlie in her arms. “Evelyn” was hand painted in a beautiful teal blue with a Texas rose to the side. “Yes, I know.”
“What are the chances?” Waylon’s voice cracked.
“Pretty good, I’d say.” Tayla arranged Charlie in one arm and wrapped the other around Waylon.
He looked at her. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I took the liberty of naming the yacht for you.”
“What?” His brows rose. “What are you talking about?”
Tayla set Charlie down, putting the leash over her hand and on her wrist. Waylon turned to her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Merry Christmas.” Her heart took off like a motorboat, praying Waylon accepted her gift without reservation.
“No.” He shook his head. “No way.” His eyes brightened.
Tayla smiled. “Actually, the boat isn’t the main present.” She laughed when he gaped at her. “My gift to you this year is my heart.” Tayla swallowed the lump in her throat. “And I wanted to tell you that I love you.” She kissed him softly. “I just got the boat to go with it.”
Waylon exhaled as a smile eased across his face. “I love you too.” He brushed the bangs from her forehead and kissed her, his mouth tender and sincere. “But I got a dog bowl with Charlie’s name on it for my apartment to show you that I love you.”
“See? We think alike, using grand gestures to show our love and commitment.”
“Yeah, well, I think your gesture is a little grander than mine.” Waylon turned and looked at the yacht, his grin as wide as the horizon. “I can’t believe you bought me a boat.”
Tayla shrugged her shoulders. “You better get used to it, since you’ve just admitted you’re in love with a billionaire.” Her heart purred, feeling the love radiating between the two of them.
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’ll be the one proposing.” He gave her a coy smile as her stomach flipped. “I can’t imagine what you might do with that kind of motive.” Waylon’s dimples sank in his cheeks, enjoying every moment of her staggering in his arms. “You’d probably go off and buy a small country or something.”
“No.” She got her balance. “Not a country.” Tayla touched his cold nose with her fingertip. “Maybe an island.”
Waylon picked her up in his arms, and her feet dangled as she squealed in delight. Charlie barked at their heels. “I love you.” He set her down and touched her cheek. “And I always will.”
Tayla’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Forever.”
“Now that—” Waylon grinned. “—I can afford.”
Seventeen
“Did you talk to her?” Waylon wrapped his arms around Tayla’s middle as she leaned back against him. It was Christmas Eve night, and they were gathered around Jamon’s tree. Howard sat in his chair, a shell of the man he’d been a couple months ago, but his eyes were bright and his spirits were good. His last scan had shown that the chemo was working, and they were all hopeful. Jamon and Gemma cuddled on the couch, talking about the wedding only a week away, while Waylon and Tayla stood next to the mantel. The tree glowed with an array of twinkling lights and ornaments.
“Yeah.”
“And how did it go?” He spoke softly next to her ear.
“Awkward.” She shrugged. “But good, I guess. She and Kenlee are in Colorado. Kenlee is in college and apparently doing fine.”
Waylon sensed Tayla’s hurt. As far as he knew, Tayla’s mother and sister never made any attempts to contact Tayla. “I’m proud of you for making the effort.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think anything will ever change. It’s like my mother’s broken, at least when it comes to me.”
“It’s not you.” Waylon kissed her head. “She spent years married to an addict who never wanted help. We don’t know what that did to her. I’m not excusing her actions, but I think it helps to try and understand.”
“I know. I wish she knew there were places out there like Prevail with family support groups. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad between us.” Tayla put her hand over his. “I think I remind her of my dad, and it was easy to distance herself from me. After a while, we hardly ever spoke until one day turned into never.”
Waylon thought of all the hurt he’d caused Jamon, Gemma, and Howard, and he felt so grateful that they loved him, no matter what. “Don’t give up on her. She might not have put the drugs in her body, but they had a damaging effect on her.”
“I told her I’d call in a couple weeks.”
“Maybe you could invite her and Kenlee out to Seattle?”
Tayla cocked her head so she got a glimpse of his face. “Baby steps.”
Waylon chuckled. “Alright. I wouldn’t want you mad at me on our first Christmas together.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“But even if I did make you mad, I’d make up for it with my really good Christmas present.”
Tayla pulled away from his arms and turned around so she faced him. “I thought Charlie’s bowl and declaring your love for me were my presents this year.”
“I got something to go with it.” Waylon keeping Tayla’s Christmas present a secret was like walking around as a young boy with a whistle in his pocket, unable to blow it. “It’s just a little something.” His gift was a symbol of their future together and of their love and commitment to one another. He could hardly wait.
* * *
“Did I tell you I got the okay from the owner to buy the building behind Prevail?” Tayla tried to focus on anything other than the surprise Waylon had for her, which he wouldn’t give her until later. “And Saige found some property that might work for the equine therapy facility.” She sipped her eggnog. “Of course, it’s going to take a long time until it’s finished. Who knows? You might be through with school by then.”
Waylon picked up a piece of fudge from the candy dish on the coffee table. “I don’t think it will take that long.” He took a bite.
“Well, the good news is I’ll have some connections with the owner, and I think I can talk her into letting you start b
efore you’ve completed your degree in counseling.”
Waylon drew in a breath. “Maybe I’m too old for college.” He squeezed her knee. “College freshman at thirty-one doesn’t sound too good.”
Tayla put her hand over his. “I think you can do anything you put your mind to.” She leaned into him. “Including giving me my present.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I suppose now would be as good a time as any.”
Tayla smiled as she cranked her neck to take a gander at the presents around the tree. “Which one is mine?” She looked back at Waylon. “I don’t have any more patience.”
Waylon chuckled. “I don’t think you ever had any to begin with.” He stood up and went to the tree, where he picked up a small box in green paper and a red ribbon.
Excitement bubbled in her belly. “I’m not saving the paper.” She tore into the package and ripped off the lid. Tayla gave Waylon an incredulous look as she lifted the card and read the words:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I promise you’ll love the gift I have for you.
Her chin jutted back. She searched the box again and came up empty. “Am I missing something?”
Waylon took her hand and helped her up from the couch. A knowing look passed from Jamon to Gemma, and then to Howard.
“Do you know what this is all about?” Tayla searched their faces for clues.
Howard looked up at Waylon, who nodded. “Why don’t you go check the back porch?” Howard’s voice wasn’t much stronger than a whisper.
Tayla turned to Waylon. “Go on.” He smiled. “Go see.”
She rushed over to the French doors and opened them. “You might want a jacket,” Waylon called after her, but she wasn’t about to let a little cold keep her from her present.
Tayla stepped onto the deck and looked around. Nothing unusual jumped out at her.
Waylon came up beside her. “Did you find it?”
