Great and Precious Things

by Rebecca Yarros

  I swallowed the instinctive retort that he was only pissed because the optics hadn’t gone his way. But it had to be deeper, didn’t it? Sure, he cared about his image way more than I did mine, but it couldn’t all be about his reputation.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, bleeding as much sincerity into my voice as I could so he’d know I was telling the truth. “I was afraid you’d react…well, exactly how you did. After dinner the other night, I didn’t trust you to have an open mind. I should have, and I’m sorry.”

  He stood motionless for an awkward moment, then finally shook his head. “I’d like to think I would have listened and supported you. But maybe you’re right. The stuff with Dad the other night put me on the defensive. I don’t want to see you as the enemy, Cam. You’re the only brother I have.”

  Left. I’m the only brother you have left.

  “I don’t want to be your enemy. Ever. I’m just trying to do the best I can for Dad, and if that means pissing you off at times, then I have to be okay with that. But I am sorry that I didn’t bring the mine idea to you. It was a dick move.”

  He shook his head. “You just apologized twice in the last two minutes. I should have recorded it, because I don’t think I’ll ever hear those words again.”

  A half smile lifted the corner of my lips. “I’m bound to screw up, but I’m man enough to own it.”

  “You didn’t used to be.”

  “I didn’t use to be a lot of things.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, as if he’d come to some sort of decision. “I have more than enough on my plate with Dad and running my accounting business—”

  “Plus the whole mayor thing,” I added.

  “I think we both know that running Alba isn’t exactly a full-time job. Point is, my hands are full. And I know you technically don’t need it, but you have my support for the mine. I still think it’s a shit decision that has the potential to get people killed, but I’m trusting your skills. I’m trusting you. So while I’ll voice my concerns often and loudly when it’s the two of us, I’ll back you when it comes to the council.”

  “Really?” I kept my voice as neutral as possible, not letting hope or disbelief change the tone.

  “Really.” He shrugged. “If I’d known why you were doing it, I hope I would have been on your side from the get-go.”

  “But you’re on it now.”

  “I am. And we can talk about at-home care for Dad. Let’s have dinner at my place this week. I’ll show you the research I have and Dad’s finances, and maybe we can figure something out together.” The pressed line of his lips told me what his words didn’t—he didn’t want to give up any control, but he was willing to try.

  “I’ll bring the food.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll let you get back to your…” He glanced around the building that was way worse off than it had been when we were kids.

  “My giant wreck,” I offered.

  “Your giant wreck,” he agreed, then smiled. “Later.”

  “See ya.” I sent him off with a wave.

  When his shiny blue truck passed the doorless entry of the mining building, I went back to my inspection, mentally cataloging all the structural problems while replaying the conversation with Xander in my head.

  Sullivan would have smoothed everything over effortlessly.

  “He’s going to kill me when he figures out what I’m really doing. You know that, right?” I said softly. “Sure, there’s a slight chance I can win him over, but you know how he is.”

  I moved to the window frames on the south side of the building, taking a minute to climb over the fractured support beam that had fallen from the ceiling before I’d even left Alba.

  “Look at this place,” I muttered. “You would have loved it, though, wouldn’t you? You would have seen it as an adventure. A way to bring back a slice of our family legacy. I just see a structural nightmare with too many restoration rules to contend with.” Dropping to a crouch, I eased my way under another fallen timber to get a better look at the pilings. “I’m going to have to replace almost all of these. Let’s just add it to the list, shall we? Fight for Dad, fight the town, figure out what I’m going to do with my life… You would have taken it all in stride with a grin, wouldn’t you?”

  “Hey,” Willow said from behind me.

  I stood and smacked my head on the very timber I’d been trying to avoid. “Shit,” I cursed and rubbed the top of my head as I ducked and came out.

  “Sorry. I was trying not to startle you.” She bit her lip and winced from under a green winter hat that brought out the same color in her eyes.

  “You failed.” Damn, my head hurt. “That’s a lie. I should have heard you. I must have been lost in all the amazing restoration we’re going to do.”

  She gave me a small, soft smile. “It’s okay. I talk to him, too.”

  “Who?” I swallowed, hoping she’d say anything other than the truth.

  “Sullivan.” She walked farther into the building, eyeing the structure with appraisal.

  I could almost see the gears turning in her head, and it was fascinating. Her eyes lit with a fire I hadn’t seen in years, darting over the walls, the windows, and even the fallen beams. She pulled a tablet from her bag and started to write on it with a stylus. Great, now I was watching the graceful way she moved her hands, even with gloves on.

  “He wouldn’t have taken it in stride, you know,” she said, breaking my stream of thoughts.

  “Sullivan?” His laugh came to mind, filling my chest with a bittersweet pressure that I’d become well acquainted with over the last six years. “Yeah, he would have. He would have jumped in with both feet and a grin and made it all look easy.”

  She snorted. Actually freaking snorted. And what was worse was that I thought it was cute.

  Cute like a little sister, I reminded myself.

  Yeah, okay, I fired back.

  “Sure, he would have jumped in with both feet and a grin and no common sense.” She paused, looking over her shoulder at me. “Sully made everything look easy because it was easy for him. It was easy because the town loved him and you loved him. You and Xander tackled anything that was remotely a challenge for him.”

  I stuck my hands back in my pockets, hoping the feeling would return to them soon. It had to be in the low twenties today. “I don’t know if I should be insulted or proud.”

  “Both.” She grinned and turned back to her tablet, scribbling away. “And let’s face it. Sully would never have been in your position.”

  “Because the town would have welcomed him with a smile.” I stepped over the support beam and made my way to where she was taking notes.

  “Sure, that too,” she admitted with a shrug. “But I was thinking more along the lines that he never would have gone against Xander. Sully would have taken Xander’s word as gospel and moved on. He never would have stood up like you did—like you’re doing.” She glanced at me, knocking the breath from my lungs.

  Green, gold, blue, and bronze. How was it possible for one person to have all those colors in her eyes?

  “Maybe,” I conceded once she’d looked away and my brain started working again. “Or maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”

  “Maybe you would have come home after three years,” she said softly, face down in her tablet.

  No, I wouldn’t have. Not for one very fucked-up reason.

  “Maybe you’d be married to Sullivan.” I didn’t mean to say it.

  She tensed but looked up at me after a minute, conflict etched in the lines of her forehead where her hat began.

  “Maybe,” she whispered.

  Maybe not. The unspoken words hung there between us, where they had no right to be.

  Because they were a damned lie. I walked away from her, choosing to examine the joints where the south and east walls met.
>
  Of course she would have married Sullivan. They were Alba’s golden couple. The outgoing boy and the quiet girl who spoke through her art. The ones who fell in love after living next door to each other for years.

  They were the fucking storybook, and I was the fire-breathing dragon. And sure, I’d burned shit to the ground, but never them. Never him.

  Never her.

  I would have rather died than see any of my shit touch either of them.

  Yet somehow, I’d given the order, and Sullivan had died in my arms.

  And now I was standing here next to the woman he’d loved. The woman he’d wanted to marry. The woman he’d left behind to go join the army, not because Xander was finishing up his three years but because he thought it was cool that I’d just made it through the Special Forces Qualification Course.

  I got to wear a green beret.

  Sullivan got to wear his dress blues for eternity.

  Willow never got to wear our mother’s ring.

  I was a grade A asshole for even thinking about Willow or her eyes or how soft her hair was. It was an absolute betrayal of my little brother.

  “I have the dimensions on file with the Historical Society, so I think I can get started with this plan. At least the restoration part. You good on structure?”

  “Yeah. I have a good enough idea to draft a plan.” I fought my instincts to stay there, facing the corner, blocking out everything in the world besides the grain of the wood before me. Instead, I stood and turned to face her.

  “Okay.” She stayed buried in her tablet. “Then, how about we look at the mine on Wednesday? I have a project I really need to finish up tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good,” I agreed, willing to say anything if it would mean an end to this moment.

  “Okay. I’ll see you then?” she asked, looking up.

  “Yep,” I answered with a curt nod.

  Her mouth moved like she might say something but then thought better of it. With a forced smile, she said a hurried goodbye and rushed from the building.

  When I heard her car leave, I found the strength to move, but instead of leaving, I fell to my knees. Snow melted against the heat of my jeans, quickly soaking the material and hitting my skin with blistering cold.

  Still, I kneeled there until my breaths turned even and measured.

  Then I looked up through where the roof should have been and stared at the crystal-blue sky.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him.

  And I was.

  I just wasn’t sure if it was for what I’d already done or what I was scared I had yet to do.

  Chapter Ten

  Willow

  “Okay, why are you avoiding me?” Thea questioned.

  “I’m not.” I hopped on one foot as I tried to get the other through my tights. “If I were avoiding you, I wouldn’t have picked up the phone, now, would I?”

  “See, I would believe that if I hadn’t been calling you for the last three days.”

  “Have you?” I lost my balance and fell back onto my bed with an oof. I gave up trying to balance and put Thea on speakerphone.

  “You know I have. Jacob! I swear, if you don’t eat your dinner because you’re snacking on those cookies… Pat, help me out?” Thea didn’t bother muffling the phone. We were way past that stage of friendship.

  I worked the black tights up over my legs and stared at my skirt choices.

  “Thank you, honey,” Thea said. “Okay, sorry. I think I just bought myself about five minutes of quiet.”

  “No worries.” I laughed softly, picturing the chaotic happiness that Jacob brought into Thea’s and Pat’s lives. “So what’s up?”

  “You’re asking me what’s up? You, who outed your second degree in the middle of a Historical Society meeting and then took Camden Daniels’s side over your father’s? You’re asking me what’s up?”

  “See, this is the reason I didn’t answer. I’m not reverting back to high school, Thea. I refuse.” The black skirt was safer, and Dad would appreciate that. The shorter red one had been a favorite while I was at school, but it would no doubt lead to a lecture.

  “Ha! You were avoiding me! And by reverting, you mean when we’d chat for hours about boys? Or just the Daniels boys?”

  Guess I walked right into that one.

  “I just don’t have anything to say about Cam.”

  “I could say a whole hell of a lot. I mean, it’s Camden.”

  Yep. Right back to high school.

  “Yes, it’s Camden,” I muttered, putting on the black skirt.

  “Oh, come on. Is it fun to be around him again? Please give me something. I’m dying here.”

  “‘Fun’ isn’t the word I’d use for it.” I zipped the skirt up the back and headed to my closet, bringing my phone along.

  “Exhilarating? Exciting? Heart-pounding? What?”

  “You have a very distorted idea of what it’s like between us. Try frustrating, confusing, aggravating, and just plain weird.” I found my knee-high dress boots and hauled them out. Sure, I’d get some comment about them from Dad or even Mom, but the temps had dropped, and I wasn’t going out in heels.

  Her sigh was loud and long. “Willow, you have to remember that I was there. You can’t fool me. And if you don’t want to talk with me about what his return is doing to you, then fine, I know Pat’s feelings about him complicate things. Just make sure you’re talking to someone. That boy—that man—ties you into knots and always has.”

  “Can’t we just pretend that you weren’t there?” I asked softly, then bent to put on the boots.

  “No.” Her voice dropped in volume. “Because you can’t pretend, honey. You spent years shoving those feelings away, and I’m afraid if you do it again, you’ll implode.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I was always fine. It was the only option.

  “Maybe. But last time, you both retreated to your corners. You got together with Sullivan, and Cam pretty much took his ball and went home. Working together on the mine? That’s a lot.”

  “Cam didn’t retreat. There was nothing to retreat from. And I loved Sullivan.”

  “I know you did. I just…”

  My breath paused as I waited for her to drop the nuke, to rip apart every ounce of denial I clung to. Having a best friend who knew me since childhood was a pain in the ass sometimes. She never let me forget anything or change the script in my head.

  “I’m here if you need anything. That’s all,” she finished, and I exhaled.

  “Thank you. I might take you up on that. Right now, I have to get down to Mom and Dad’s for another awkward family dinner.”

  “Okay. At least your antics will give your sister a break from the Judge Bradley death stare. Give Rosie a kiss for me. Love you.”

  “Love you,” I told her and hung up, pausing for a moment to evaluate my reflection. The black was a good, solid choice.

  But the red would put a little more of the heat on me and off Charity.

  Red it was.

  …

  As awkward went, it wasn’t naked-without-my-homework-on-the-first-day-of-school, and that was all I could really say for it.

  Thank God Rosie kept up a steady stream of conversation with Mom, because Dad was barely looking at Charity or me.

  Mom’s usually phenomenal cooking tasted like cardboard, but I just kept chewing, knowing it was more my nerves than her seasoning. Hopefully we could end this super-fun evening with relative quickness. A front had moved in this afternoon, and snow had started falling in a thick blanket as I’d pulled into the driveway.

  “Since when did you become persona non grata?” Charity asked under her breath as we sat in the formal dining room. Dad occupied the head of the table and Mom the foot, while Charity and I held down one side and Rose the other. Her multicolored skirt and sequined unicorn top brought d
esperately needed life to the cherry-wood-and-crystal room.

  “Since she decided to choose the Daniels boy over her own family,” Dad answered.

  “Supersonic ears,” Charity whispered.

  I tossed her a heavy dose of side-eye before facing my father. “Dad, I didn’t choose Cam over you.”

  “Cam? Oh man, I bet he was hoping it was at least Xander,” Charity quipped.

  “Charity,” Mom warned.

  “I like Cam,” Rose added. “He’s nice.”

  “You—” Dad’s face turned a mottled red as he struggled for control. “You brought that boy around Rose?”

  “Noah,” Mom chided. “I’d hardly call a twenty-eight-year-old a boy. He’s a full-grown man now.”

  “All the better to cause even more damage,” Dad shot back. “What were you thinking, Willow?” He stared at me, fork and knife clutched in his hands like he was going to cut into me instead of his turkey.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding me?” His voice dropped low.

  “She means are you asking about why she took his side—which I would love to know the story behind—or why he was around Rose?” Charity’s gaze swung between Mom and me, ignoring my dad completely. “What? Just thought I’d help interpret.”

  “He used my unicorn,” Rose said with a shrug before shoving in a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

  “I’m sorry, honey?” Mom questioned.

  Rose swallowed and looked at both of my parents, then chose Dad. Girl had guts. “He used my ice pack. The unicorn we keep in the freezer. You know it, Grandpa. You gave it to me when I was little and called it my boo-boo pack.”

  Because she was so big now. I held my pressed lips between my teeth to hide my smile and then quickly took a bite of broccoli.

  “I do remember it, Rosie.” Dad’s tone changed to the one he reserved for Rose. The one he used to use when we were small and hadn’t disappointed him yet.

  “Well, his face had a bump, so Aunt Willow let him borrow it. He didn’t even care that it was a girl ice pack or anything. He’s pretty big, though. Takes up the whole kitchen.”