by Liz Isaacson
“I don’t suppose you could give me a ride over to the Pine Valley trailhead? I may or may not have just told Cy I’d meet him here at the lodge in fifteen minutes.”
Sophia looked at Ames then, and this man was so dangerous to her health. He wore a half-hooded glare and a half-hopeful glint in those eyes she had so well memorized.
“Even if we ran down to my car, you won’t get there and back in fifteen minutes.”
“Faster than if I try to hike two and a half miles back and then drive over.”
“True.” She looked back down to the parking lot, picking out her white SUV. She already knew she was going to say yes. So why couldn’t she say it?
“I’ll go ask someone at the lodge,” he said, stepping past her. “Come on, Daisy.”
Sophia watched them take a few steps away, and panic struck her in the chest. “Wait,” she blurted.
Ames spun and came right back toward her, his expression definitely angry now. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you my number a few months ago.” He stopped in front of her. “Okay? I was going to, and then you left before I could, and I felt stupid telling Cy about it, and having him give it to Patsy to give to you.” He sucked in a breath. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, because that was what one said when asked such an aggressive question.
“Okay.” He held her gaze for another moment, and then he turned back to the lodge. “I’m already going to be late.”
Sophia wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or not. She took a step forward, because if Cy would be at the lodge in fifteen minutes, that meant the move was about to happen. She’d be late by driving Ames too, and she really didn’t want to disappoint Patsy.
Ames turned around again, something fierce on his face. He met her eye and said, “We’re already going to be a little late.”
“Yes,” she said, though he hadn’t phrased it as a question.
Without another word, he lifted his hand and slid it along the side of her neck to the back of her head. Sparks turned into fireworks in the space of two seconds, and as Ames pressed right into her personal space, Sophia’s muscles burned as her pulse misfired.
He held her captive, and he probably didn’t even know it.
He leaned down, and the next thing Sophia knew, Ames was kissing her.
Oh, wow.
She relaxed—melted, really—into his arms and kissed him back.
He pulled away after only a few seconds—not nearly long enough in Sophia’s opinion, and asked, “Would you go to dinner with me tonight?”
“Mm,” was the only thing Sophia could come up with, and Ames chuckled as he slid his hand away from her.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he said, his voice throaty and deep. “And we really better go, because my twin is grumpy when people are late.”
She followed him down the rest of the path at a near jog, and she didn’t even mind, though she hated running. His kiss had filled her with energy, and she definitely needed something to burn it off.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Patsy oversaw the removal of her things, as cowboy after cowboy came into the cabin, picked up a box or a belonging, and took it out to one of the remaining trucks. Moving was always such an ordeal. A great big mess.
Patsy hated messes, though she felt like her life had become one in the past month or so. Since Cy’s birthday, things between them hadn’t been the same. He’d disappeared into his shop and his house, and Patsy had realized how easy it was for him to do that. She’d been so busy working at the lodge, trying to train the new manager, as well as taking over the orchard simultaneously. She’d let Cy slip away, because she was so busy.
He’d gone to Colorado for a few days to visit his family, and he’d brought his twin to help her move.
Every time she looked at Ames, she had a flash of regret. She’d wanted to go back to Cy’s shop and get the motorcycle he’d built for her. She did. She just didn’t know how to bring it up. She’d honestly expected Cy to, as he’d never really held back with how he felt. He was brave and courageous and just said what was on his mind.
She’d given him the job of making sure everything coming out of the cabin would fit on one of the trucks. The last thing either of them wanted was to make more than one trip down the canyon. Everything had to go in one load, which was why Patsy had arranged for four pickup trucks—including Cy’s and Ames’s.
“How’s it looking out there?” she asked Beau as he came inside.
“Good,” he said. “You don’t have that much stuff, Patsy.” He flashed her a smile and picked up the last of the boxed kitchenware she was taking with her. Since her father still lived in the home surrounded by the orchard, Patsy was taking over Cy’s rental. It was conveniently located only a ten-minute drive from her father’s house, as well as the shop and Cy’s new home.
She’d helped him move everything of his from the rental to his house once it had been finished and passed inspection. He’d had some trouble with the roof that had delayed him a week or two, but he’d been in the house for two weeks now. He’d promised her the rental was clean and ready for her, and she didn’t doubt him.
With the last of the boxes gone, Patsy started instructing everyone who came through the door to take something else. “That recliner,” she told Eli and Graham. “And Todd, I have a nightstand and a lamp in the bedroom.”
“You got it,” he said, moving that way.
Patsy tried not to look at Sophia, who stood out of the way in the kitchen. A lot of the stuff here belonged to the Whittaker brothers, as they’d provided the cabin for those working at the lodge. Even if Sophia moved out, she wouldn’t take the dining room table, or either of the couches in the living room. But Patsy had brought a few things for herself.
She didn’t own a bed, but the rental had one, and Cy said it was fairly comfortable. Nerves ran through Patsy, because she’d be in a new place that evening. By herself. She wasn’t scared to live alone; she just didn’t like it.
“What else?” Ames asked as he came in and she didn’t see him.
“Oh, uh, I have a folding table in the hallway there,” she said. “And the stand mixer in the kitchen.”
“I’ll take that,” Sophia said, turning to lift the light blue appliance. She tracked Ames as he took the few steps to the table in the hallway, and the two of them left together.
Todd came out of the bedroom with the only furniture she’d take from there, and Patsy quickly swiped on her phone to check her list. “Oh, the rocking chair.”
She couldn’t believe they were to the outdoor items already, but she supposed having eight strong men to do the work made it go fast. She stepped out onto the front porch, deliberately not allowing herself to turn back to the interior of the cabin.
She’d lived here for four years, and she’d enjoyed it. She could come visit Sophia any time she wanted. Even as she rationalized her feelings—something she’d been doing for a month now—Patsy knew she wouldn’t.
She’d throw herself into the orchard management, because that was what Patsy did. She seized onto something and did it, no matter the cost. The orchard needed a lot of work, and it was the height of the summer—the perfect time to get them up to speed and producing the best and biggest crop possible. She could improve next year, as she’d missed some key spring months while Betty fought with her over everything.
In the end, her sister had relented. Joe had practically disappeared, and Patsy wondered if her father had intervened with Betty. Someone had. Perhaps her husband.
“The rocking chair,” she told Eli as he came up the steps. “And I have a bicycle, and that’s it.”
“That’s it?” Graham asked from the bottom of the steps. He removed his cowboy hat and wiped the sweat along his forehead. “This is easy, Patsy.”
“I told you it would be fast.”
“Are you sure you have to go?” Graham looked up at her, and he was dead serious.
She smiled as she went down the steps to the sid
ewalk. “I’m sure.”
“Yeah, I know.” Graham sighed as he looked back toward the lodge. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for this place. For our family.” He embraced her, and Patsy felt like she was hugging her son, though Graham was far older than her.
“Thanks for taking a chance on me,” she said.
“No chance,” Graham said. “I knew the moment I met you that you’d be great here.”
“Well, thank you.” She stepped back and brushed her hair out of her eyes, suddenly unable to look at the man who had taken a chance on her—a twenty-seven-year-old with no experience in the hospitality industry. With hardly any management experience at all.
“Come up any time,” Graham said. “Definitely for the holidays, and Sunday lunches, and all of it.”
“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Patsy faced the walk to the parking lot, several more people coming back their way. “We got it all, guys,” she said, because she could wheel her bicycle out to a truck. She went around the side of the cabin to get it, and she did walk beside it as she headed toward the pickups that had backed up to the curb.
“Thanks,” she told everyone as she passed them.
“We’ll miss you, Patsy,” Beau said.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Eli said.
“Thank you, Patsy,” Andrew said.
She smiled and nodded as she acknowledged what they’d said. She’d miss them too, and while it had taken her a while to settle into the Whittaker family, she’d definitely felt a part of them in a way she hadn’t in her own family.
“Just that?” Cy asked when he turned from the back of the truck where Ames was trying to situate the rocking chair.
“This is it,” she said brightly. “Not too bad, right?” She surveyed the other trucks, and all four of them had something in them. Two were fairly full of boxes, while the other two held her few pieces of furniture.
“This is nothing,” Cy said. “I rented a twenty-foot truck to empty the storage unit where my stuff was.” He smiled at her, but Patsy felt a keen sense of missing.
She missed him fiercely. He wasn’t himself—at least not with her. He was hiding something, holding something back, and pretending.
Patsy couldn’t blame him. She’d told him she’d try to accept the gifts he wanted to give her, but she’d never said another word about the motorcycle. Maybe now was the right time.
“Let’s go,” Ames said, jumping down from the tailgate. “Get this unloaded, and we can go grab lunch.” He clapped Cy on the shoulder and headed for the driver’s seat of his truck.
“Oh, you’re going to go to lunch with him?” Patsy asked, her lungs pinching together.
Cy swung his gaze toward her, finally looking at her. They’d been revolving around one another for far too long. Texting and calling, sure. But when they were together physically, it was tense. Barely any eye contact. Stilted conversations about nothing.
Patsy hated all of it.
“No, I said I’d go get you lunch,” he said. “So we’ll get everything unloaded, and you can start unpacking while Ames and I go to town. We’ll bring the food back to your house.”
“Perfect,” Patsy said. “Thank you, Cy.” She hated that she sounded like his boss. So professional. So sterile. “Okay, well, we all know the way?”
“Yep,” Graham said, jangling his keys.
“I’ll follow him,” Beau said. Cy was the other driver, and he obviously knew the way to the house he’d once lived in.
Patsy nodded and turned to get to her own car. Her heartbeat thrashed in her chest, because she was leaving Whiskey Mountain Lodge. She’d loved this place, and she cast another look at the rustic, yet beautiful building. It was made of logs and perfect for a mountain getaway. She could see it in the winter, when the yellow squares of light welcomed everyone who dared traverse up the canyon. She could hear the laughter and smell something delicious that Celia had made for their Sabbath celebration.
So many memories streamed through her head, and Patsy wanted to hold onto each one individually and keep it with her always.
As she rounded the front of Ames’s truck, she found Sophia lingering near the back bumper of her sedan. “Sophia.” Her voice almost cracked, and Patsy held onto it with everything she had.
She hurried into her best friend’s arms, and the two of them clutched one another. After several seconds where Patsy lost the battle with her emotions, Sophia said, “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’ll miss you too.”
Sophia stepped back her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’m going to have to call you every night to talk to you about stuff here,” she said. “I love this job, but things are crazy sometimes.”
“Oh, I know.” Patsy smiled at her and brushed at her own eyes. “Trust me, I’m going to be texting you daily vents about my sister and whatever new disaster I find around the orchard that day.”
“I can’t wait.” Sophia half-laughed, but to Patsy’s ears, it was mostly a sob. She hugged her again and made another promise to call her later. Then she got behind the wheel of her car and drove out of the parking lot, her shoulders square and her head held high.
She wasn’t the first to arrive at the house, and the rocking chair sat on the front porch when she pulled up to the house. The three trucks already there had backed into the driveway, and there wasn’t room for her.
She got out and hurried across the lawn to unlock the front door, and since she’d labeled every box with what room it went in, all she had to do from then on was point and say, “My bedroom,” or “the bathroom,” or “that one goes in the kitchen.”
Another thirty minutes later, and everyone left again—even Cy and Ames.
A sense of being wrung out moved through Patsy, and she sighed as she closed the door and faced the house. The living room took up the front half of where she stood, and lots of natural light poured in from the two walls of windows. A hallway veered off to her left, and there were two bedrooms and a bathroom down that way. It was a much bigger place than the cabin, and she had to take several steps to even cross the living room.
The kitchen took up the back of the house, and her eyes landed on the light blue stand mixer. She barely used it, but it had been a gift from Sophia, and Patsy couldn’t leave it behind. She wondered why she could accept the mixer from Sophia—which wasn’t cheap—and not the motorcycle from Cy.
She wasn’t sure, though she suspected it had something to do with the level of expectations associated with the gift. Cody had held that horse over Patsy’s head at every turn, and she’d resented him for it. She’d ended up disliking the horse too, and she’d eventually broken up with Cody and sold the horse he’d bought for her.
She could still remember sneaking up to his front door and leaving an envelope of cash from the sale. No note. No nothing. He’d never responded to let her know he’d gotten it or appreciated it.
Patsy blinked her way back to the present and went to move her car into the garage. Cy had used it as a workshop for his welding, but Patsy wanted to park in it. That way, when it rained and snowed, she wouldn’t have to deal with the mess.
The garage wasn’t attached to the house, and it sat back about fifteen feet. It did have an automatic door, and Cy had given her the remote for it. So as she eased down the driveway, and the door lifted, she saw something blocking her from parking in the single-car garage.
That yellow motorcycle.
She pressed hard on the brake, her car jerking to a stop. “Oh.” The word just came out in a whoosh of breath, and Patsy couldn’t look away from the shiny chrome on the bike, that immaculately stitched seat, and the helmet Cy had perched on the handlebars.
Everything inside Patsy itched to go inspect the motorcycle, so she got out of her car and went to do just that. She picked up the helmet and tried it on, expecting it to be perfect—and it was.
Cy wouldn’t have done anything wrong with this motorcycle, and she knew it. Warmth fil
led her at the same time a flood of tears gathered in her eyes. “You’re so stupid,” she whispered to herself.
It was the second week of July, and she knew Cy had been out on the winding roads around Coral Canyon, on the way to Jackson, and up into Dog Valley on his motorcycle for the past couple of months.
She could’ve been riding with him for most of that—if she hadn’t been so prideful and so resistant to taking this gift.
“How do I fix this?” she wondered aloud as she swung her leg over the seat and sat on the motorcycle. Cy had made it to fit someone her height, and that was obvious. Everything about it was pure perfection, and Patsy let her tears fall.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat on the motorcycle in the garage, but she knew she didn’t want Cy to find her there, weeping and wondering what to do. Or maybe she did. Maybe then they could have a real conversation about it—about them—about their relationship—and maybe the awkwardness that had been blooming between them for months would finally wither and die.
She’d closed the garage and left her car where it was before Cy and Ames returned. When they did, they had plates of barbecue with them, and with the addition of Ames, the conversation wasn’t so strained.
“All right,” Cy finally said with a sigh as he stood from the dining room table.. “I have to get to the shop.” He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Patsy’s forehead. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, and she stayed in her seat as the twins walked out. She hadn’t unpacked anything quite yet, and she wondered if she could get by until tomorrow without opening a single box.
In the end, that just wasn’t how Patsy Foxhill functioned, and she started unpacking within five minutes of being in the house by herself.
Chapter Twenty-Seven