When We Began

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When We Began Page 23

by Elena Aitken


  And she was right. Taking the Reins had already changed his life, and of course Amber’s. With the opening of the center later that year, there was no telling how many lives they could impact for the better. And that was definitely something to be celebrated.

  Together, they went outside to meet with the contractor who had the area staked out. The ground was still not entirely thawed, but he assured them they’d be able to start the process anyway. A few friends had already gathered, and Logan looked over to Joseph Monroe, who stood to the side, watching them with a smile on his face. Logan hardly recognized him as the cantankerous old man he’d first met. Another person Taking the Reins had helped. He offered Joseph a wave, and the old man grunted and shrugged into his coat in reply.

  Okay, maybe some people never really changed. Logan couldn’t help but laugh.

  He took another look around the crowd before his eyes landed on the one person he’d been hoping to talk to. Leaving Amber chatting with a small group of friends, he moved across the yard.

  “I’m glad you came today,” he said.

  “Oh, Logan. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Ruby reached out and took his hands in hers. “What you’re doing here…it’s just so special and I couldn’t be prouder that it’s here on the ranch.”

  “None of this could have happened if you hadn’t—”

  “No,” she interrupted him. “None of this could have happened if it hadn’t been for you and your kind heart. And let’s not forget your young lady over there.” She winked.

  “Never.” He returned her wink.

  “You’re both very special, Logan. I hope you know that.”

  “Thank you, Ruby.” Impulsively, he pulled her into a hug. “For everything. I really mean it.”

  He released her and was about to go find Amber when they were joined by his father.

  “There you are.” Junky clapped Logan on the back. “Quite a turnout today for you.”

  “It’s a pretty big deal,” Ruby said. “You should be very proud.”

  Junky turned to Ruby, and Logan watched as his eyes lit up and a broad smile stretched across his face.

  “Dad, have you met Ruby Blackstar? She’s kind of the—”

  “We have, in fact, met.” Ruby cut him off. “You worked a miracle on my old truck a few years back. I don’t know how you did it, but I got another few years out of it before it finally gave up.”

  “Well, I do remember that.” Junky chuckled and extended his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Ruby.”

  “Ruby is…” Logan drifted off as he became aware that neither Ruby nor his father were paying him any attention at all. They were already chatting and laughing, and Logan laughed to himself as he walked away. It was an unlikely pairing, but who was he to make that type of judgment?

  A moment later, he was standing next to his own unlikely match. Together, they chatted with a few more people, discussed the details of the dig, and then it was time. Amber handed him a shovel with a bright-red ribbon tied to the handle and he stood in front of the small crowd.

  “Thank you all for being here today.” Logan cleared his throat and took a minute to gather his thoughts. “It means a lot to me that you’d come out today because I think today marks an important day not only for me, but for the community as a whole. Taking the Reins has been a dream of mine ever since I realized the power that animals had to heal.” The memory of Tina filled his heart. It no longer hurt him to think of her, but made him smile to remember.

  “They healed me,” he continued. “And from that moment on, I knew it could be something very special and I’ve been working toward this moment.” He looked to Amber, who watched him with a smile on her face. “I’ve had a little help in making this dream a reality and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He winked at her and she blew him a kiss. Logan turned back to the small crowd and held the shovel up. “I’m so incredibly proud to break ground today on the Taking the Reins Treatment Center.” He plunged the shovel into the ground and a cheer rose up from the group.

  Amber joined him and placed her hands over his. Together, they lifted the cold soil from the earth. “This is going to be amazing,” she whispered in his ear.

  All Logan could do was smile, because it already was.

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

  If you enjoyed When We Began, you’ll love When We Fell. It’s finally time for Drew to have her story and her second chance at life…and love.

  You can read a sneak peek of her story next!

  * * *

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  About the Author

  Elena Aitken is a USA Today Bestselling Author of more than forty romance and women’s fiction novels. Living a stone’s throw from the Rocky Mountains with her teenager twins, their two cats and a goofy rescue dog, Elena escapes into the mountains whenever life allows. She can often be found with her toes in the lake and a glass of wine in her hand, dreaming up her next book and working on her own happily ever after with her very own mountain man.

  * * *

  To learn more about Elena:

  www.elenaaitken.com

  [email protected]

  Also by Elena Aitken

  Timber Creek

  When We Left

  When We Were Us

  When We Began

  When We Fell

  * * *

  Castle Mountain Lodge

  Unexpected Gifts

  Hidden Gifts

  Unexpected Endings - Short Story

  Mistaken Gifts

  Secret Gifts

  Goodbye Gifts

  Tempting Gifts

  Holiday Gifts

  Promised Gifts

  Accidental Gifts

  The Castle Mountain Lodge Collection: Books 1-3

  The Castle Mountain Lodge Collection: Books 4-6

  The Castle Mountain Lodge Collection: Books 7-9

  The Castle Mountain Lodge Complete Collection

  * * *

  The Springs Series

  Summer of Change

  Falling Into Forever

  Second Glances (Novella)

  Winter’s Burn

  Midnight Springs

  She’s Making A List (Holiday Novella)

  Fighting For Forever (Novella)

  The Springs Collection: Volume 1

  The Springs Collection: Volume 2

  The Springs Complete Collection - Books 1-10

  * * *

  The Springs—Stone Summit

  Summit of Desire

  Summit of Seduction

  Summit of Passion

  Stone Summit Trilogy

  * * *

  The McCormicks

  Love in the Moment

  Only for a Moment

  One more Moment

  In this Moment

  From this Moment

  * * *

  Bears of Grizzly Ridge

  His to Protect

  His to Seduce

  His to Claim

  Hers to Take

  Bears of Grizzly Ridge: The Complete Set

  * * *

  Destination Paradise

  Shelter by the Sea

  Escape to the Sun

  Hidden in the Sand - Available 2019

  * * *

  Escape Collection

  Nothing Stays in Vegas

  Return to Vegas

  Drawing Free

  S
ugar Crash

  Composing Myself

  Betty & Veronica

  The Escape Collection

  * * *

  Halfway Series

  Halfway to Nowhere

  Halfway in Between

  Halfway to Christmas

  When We Fell

  Please enjoy this excerpt from Drew’s story—When We Fell

  * * *

  The second Drew Ross opened the garage door, she wished she hadn’t. When the door rolled up, the only thing staring back at her were boxes. Piles and piles of boxes.

  “Awesome.” Drew rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips but there was no help for it. If she was going to find her son’s baseball glove, there was only one thing to do.

  Start opening boxes.

  “Here goes nothing,” she said aloud before taking a step into the garage. Her long, dark hair was twisted up on the top of her head in a messy bun and she’d managed to find a bandanna that she’d tied around that. Dressed in an old t-shirt and a pair of cut-offs, she at least looked as if she was prepared to do a little organizing and cleaning.

  Which was good, because she certainly didn’t feel ready to face the lifetime of stuff the cardboard boxes and rubber totes held. Not that she had a choice.

  Austin was going to start Little League, and he needed a glove. He was just barely five. He needed stability. He needed everything to be as normal as possible.

  He needed his glove.

  That was the thought that propelled Drew forward and into the garage full of boxes and memories.

  She held her breath and opened the flap of the first one. It wasn’t labeled. Most of them weren’t. When she and Eric had decided to pack up their entire lives and move back to Timber Creek so he could live out his last few months in their hometown, there hadn’t been much time to pack up properly or label anything. In fact, it would be a miracle if half of their things weren’t broken and smashed inside those boxes.

  Not that she cared all that much anymore.

  Drew did most of the packing herself, with Eric helping out as much as he could. He was already so weak, even then, that he spent most of his time resting in a chair, keeping her company and trying to make her laugh while she threw things in boxes so they could uproot their entire lives that were about to be shattered completely.

  “You might want to wrap that in bubble wrap,” he’d said when she picked up his overstuffed trout pillow. He’d owned it for years and for reasons Drew could never understand, insisted on keeping it on the living room couch.

  Drew paused, the pillow in her hand. “Seriously?”

  He nodded, a grin on his handsome, but way too pale face. “Deadly. It’s very special.”

  “I was actually thinking maybe we could donate this.” She held the printed pillow up. “I mean…really?”

  “No way.” Her husband of eight years pushed himself to his feet and made his way over to her. He took the trout out of her hands and kissed it before turning and using it to kiss her. “This is my most prized possession.” He laughed and before she could protest, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into him.

  There were times when, if she didn’t look close, Drew could forget that cancer was ravaging his body, and just for a minute she could pretend that it was just an ordinary day. When he pressed his lips to hers, and dipped her backward, just a little, it was one of those times.

  Maybe the doctors were wrong and as soon as they got home to Timber Creek, Eric would finally beat the cancer and they’d live to be old and gray together.

  The memory washed over Drew as she stood with the box open in front of her, surrounded by their memories.

  The doctors hadn’t been wrong. She was the one who was wrong. Being home in Timber Creek hadn’t saved Eric. It had been almost nine months since he’d been gone. Nine months that Drew had to adjust to the idea of a new future.

  For the most part, she was succeeding. With the help of her friends and family, she was starting to live again. More and more each day, it got a little easier to breathe without wanting to cry, kiss their son—who looked so much like his father—without thinking of all the things Eric would miss out on, and just get through the day without having a total meltdown.

  Yes. Most days were easier.

  But most days she didn’t have to go through their boxes.

  Drew wiped a tear from her cheek and shook her head. “Come on, Drew. You’ve got this. They’re just boxes.” She scanned the garage again, a new determination steeling her resolve. “And one of them has Austin’s glove in it.”

  She took a deep breath, held it and opened the first box.

  The rush of air came out in a laugh as she realized she was looking at the very same trout pillow she’d just been remembering. She should have thrown it in the donation pile before they’d left Nevada. After all, it was completely ridiculous. She lifted it out and held it in her hands for a moment before putting it aside.

  Maybe she should have donated it, but Drew was glad she hadn’t. It was ugly and ridiculous but it had been Eric’s. She had no idea what she was going to do with it, but for the time being, it was going to have to live in the garage. She had more pressing issues than redecorating the house. Although the time would come where she would have to go through the boxes and actually do something with them, it was not on that particular warm day in the middle of May.

  Drew shoved the fish back in the box and reached for another one.

  Nothing but photo albums and old books she’d never read again.

  Next.

  Mercilessly, as if each box that turned up without the glove fueled her toward the next, Drew reached for box after box. She dug through the contents, sometimes pulling them out to the floor around her, before shoving it to the side and reaching for the next as if the contents of each container didn’t hold the intense power to hurt her.

  They did.

  But she refused to let the pain in. Not today.

  She had to find the glove.

  After too much fruitless searching, Drew finally stood and wiped her arm across her brow.

  “Come on.” She groaned and stretched her back side to side. “It has to be here.” She straightened up and looked at the stack in front of her. It was the highest pile of boxes, mostly Rubbermaid totes that were leaning against the back wall. The glove had to be in there. She was running out of options. Austin’s first practice was that night and— “Dammit.” There wasn’t much help for it—she was going to have to get to the top of that pile.

  She didn’t have a ladder, so she moved a few of the larger boxes to the bottom of the stack, put her foot on the lip of a tote and hoisted herself up. For just a moment, it looked as though it would work. Her hands brushed along the top box, the one she was aiming for, and then…the entire stack wobbled to the right and then swayed to the left. And in the split second before the entire tower of totes fell with her still clinging to the side, instead of panicking, all Drew could do was laugh.

  Ben Ross lifted the last of the oversized planters out of his truck bed and hauled it to the brick patio at the back of the Log and Jam. He set it with the others he’d just unloaded and used the edge of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. It was only the end of May, but it was already hot for the mountain town of Timber Creek, a fact that boded well for the new patio he’d just finished constructing behind his pub.

  He’d opened the Log and Jam almost ten years ago and it had quickly become the favorite place for locals to hang out. The problem, at least as far as Ben was concerned, was that the cozy timber-framed interior, decorated with local logging antiques, was cozy and perfect during the snowy winter months, but during the all-too-short mountain summer months, he just wanted to be outside.

  And if he wanted to be outside, then his customers likely wanted the same thing, which was why he’d spent the last six weeks getting permits and loans and then finally, building the huge outdoor patio at the Log and Jam.

  Ben leaned back against the log wall
of the building and surveyed his work. It had been a huge job and one that had taken a whole lot of collaborative effort from his friends and people in the community, but it was almost done.

  He’d taken the empty space next to his building, which had served as overflow parking, and had created a combination of decking and brick-laid patio space. Because the weather could be unpredictable in the mountains, he’d covered half of the space with a huge timber-framed open-sided roof, which not only served as shelter in case of inclement weather, but also held his lighting and industrial space heaters, which would be perfect on cool evenings and extend his patio time well into the fall months.

  He’d been able to leave most of the trees around the space, which gave it a feeling of privacy and intimacy, but he’d been told by almost all of his female staff members that planters full of bright flowers were an absolute must. Which was why he’d just spent the last few hours unloading the massive ones he’d bought in Seattle and hauled back earlier that morning.

  Soil and plants could wait though, because as much as he’d like to finally see the space ready to go, Ben had other matters he had to take care of that afternoon.

  He left the patio and entered his pub through the side door.

  “Something smells amazing,” he called into the kitchen at Michael, his head chef. “What’s the special today?”

  Michael appeared a moment later from the swinging door. He wiped his hands on his apron. “Roasted chicken club sandwich with a loaded baked potato soup. Want some?”

  He hadn’t had a chance to grab anything to eat, and Ben’s stomach rumbled. But a quick glance at the clock over the bar told him that as much as he’d love to sit and enjoy a meal, he didn’t have time.

 

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