She laughed. “I’m actually not by myself. There are some other people who work on Main Street who live along here, and we keep each other company. I was just running late tonight because Jaclyn stopped by, and now you’re walking me home.”
Jason nodded. “Okay. I don’t mean to hover. I’m just not used to being someplace where there’s not a mugger lurking around every corner.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” She took a deep breath of the crisp night air. “Can you smell that?”
He sniffed. “No. I don’t smell anything.”
“Exactly. No air pollution, no smog, very little car exhaust. That’s another reason why I love it here. I can actually breathe.”
She watched as he filled his lungs too. “Isn’t that great?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s pretty great.”
They reached her apartment, and she thanked him for the escort. “I’ll check my email in a little while, okay? Oh, I guess I’d better give it to you.” She fumbled in her purse for a pen and a scrap of paper. “Here you go,” she said after she scribbled the address. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
“I hope I can do you justice.” He reached out like he wanted to take her hand, but she pretended not to notice. Hand touching wasn’t a good idea. It really, really wasn’t a good idea.
“Okay, better get to work! I’ll be waiting!” She turned and let herself into her apartment, closing the door quickly before he had the chance to say anything else. It was better this way—absolutely.
Chapter Six
The wind picked up while Jason was walking back to his truck, and he turned up the collar of his coat. Just what had that rabbit woman meant when she said he needed to let it go? Whatever was holding him back . . . and to get a spine. Pretty sharp words from a total stranger, but he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed—how could he be annoyed with a woman who walked around with a rabbit tucked in her coat and took it out to dinner? Plus, everything she’d said was true, even if he didn’t understand all of it. He did need to let go of the past, and yes, he did need to get a spine. A real spine, not false bravado brought on by pride. The courage to go after what he wanted, and to do it the right way.
He didn’t go back to the KOA immediately. Instead, he drove around, letting his thoughts percolate. He meant to piece together his article as he drove, but Addie kept popping up front and center, and he relived not only their past arguments, but some of their best moments, and those made him smile. The arguments largely made him cringe. She’d said some hurtful things, but with this amazing thing called hindsight, he could see that she’d been trying to protect herself from the hurtful things he was throwing at her. They’d both been too young and too inexperienced to handle such a weighty relationship maturely.
And it was weighty not because it was a burden, but because it had been real.
He pulled into his camping spot and sat in the truck for a minute, thinking about that. It was clear to him now that he’d thrown up walls because he was scared of what a real commitment looked like. Addie had been the one, and he’d been so freaked out by that, he’d taken the first real chance he’d gotten to escape. He’d said he wanted something that would last forever, but there it had been, staring him in the face, and it had felt suffocating. And then when Addie had chosen to come to this little backwoods town instead of following him all over the world …
She’d been looking for the security she’d never had. He’d been looking for the freedom he’d never had. It was a recipe for disaster.
Except they could have made it into something great.
When he opened the door and hopped down from the truck, it was like stepping into a walk-in freezer. He went inside and revved up the heater, then got some water going for hot chocolate. The mix he’d gotten wasn’t his favorite brand, but it would warm him up, and that’s what he was after.
Armed with a mug of cocoa and his notes, he settled in at the dinette and opened his laptop. After giving himself a moment to switch brain gears from deep emotional ruminations to journalism, he typed out his notes and then rearranged them to create a flow of logic, then went back through and added threads of narrative and the things he’d learned and the conclusions he’d drawn.
He chuckled as he looked over his notes from Ed and Mary, the elderly couple he’d interviewed that morning. She was an absolute adherent to all the different alternative medicine practices in town, and Ed was opposed to them just as mightily. He called them “hooey” and “a bunch of balderduck,” which, when asked, he explained meant “balderdash dished out by quacks.” Despite this difference of opinion, he still came with his wife whenever she wanted to visit, and during the summer months, he’d hire a fishing guide and spend his time doing what he wanted to do. They were compromising and making it work.
He wouldn’t be using all the stories he’d gathered—there simply wasn’t room, and not all of them fit into the theme. Out of those that did, he still had to be choosy. He realized he could write a whole book about this place, and he hadn’t even started to look at the legacy of the Quinn family and how the area was established. He’d save all his extra material for later, and maybe he’d actually use it someday.
The wind was really picking up out there, and he made himself another mug of chocolate. Should he go check into the hotel? He grabbed his phone and looked up the weather app. It wasn’t going to get much colder than it already was, so he’d be all right. He’d just rev up his new space heater. The clerk in the red flannel shirt had pointed out this kind before he walked away, and Jason trusted the hardware know-how of a guy in red flannel over his own any day.
He followed the instructions on the box, set the heater in a safe place, and got back to work. The second-to-last paragraph sounded cheesy and sanctimonious, and he rubbed his face as he stared at it. Finally, he deleted that segment altogether and wrote:
I’ve seen a lot of love in the past two days—the love between parent and child, two sisters, three brothers, and even the love of a dog for her owner. Love is everywhere and comes in every form, not just romantic. No matter what sort of love we’re talking about, there’s a common thread that runs through it all—real love transforms people. It makes them into the best versions of themselves. When love is real, it changes lives, and yes, it heals.
That’s the real magic of Quinn Valley. Yes, there are hot springs and crystal healers and reflexologists. You can buy incense sticks by the pound and T-shirts with motivational sayings on them. The gift, though, the power behind it is the community itself and these kind-hearted people who go out of their way for each other. I’ve seen young boys offer to carry groceries for elderly shoppers and refuse payment. I’ve seen people shoveling snow from one end of the sidewalk to the other and not stopping at their own property lines. I’ve been impressed and inspired just in two days—imagine what I’d learn about these people if I were to stay longer.
His fingers paused on the keyboard. If he stayed longer … He had an assignment after this that would take him to the Oregon Coast, but after that, he was due for a travel break. What better place to spend that time than here? He might even give in and go check out some of those hot springs. The foot zoning sounded painful, but why not try it too?
He dashed off one concluding sentence, hit save, then opened an email to Addie. Here’s the article. I hope you like it.
After clicking send, he sat back and took a deep breath. He’d certainly written from a more introspective angle than ever before, and he had to admit, he liked it. It had made him a little uncomfortable from time to time as he realized yet again how very walled off he’d become, but he felt those walls starting to thin, and there might even be a little hole here and there to let the light stream in.
He opened a second email and began to type.
Hey, Addie.
You’ve told me no, and I understand your reasons why. If I were you and the person who’d hurt me so badly came back into my life and wanted another chance, I’d probably punch
him in the nose. I should have come back and talked things out with you. We could have gone on this adventure together and we both could have had what we wanted, but neither of us could see that, and I didn’t make a conversation possible.
Life is crazy, and so few things are certain. There are a couple of things I know to be true, though, in the middle of all that. The first and second ones have to do with food and my beliefs regarding the importance of certain brands, including the one true canned chicken noodle soup, which is Campbell’s. That’s beside the point, though. My third truth is this—I love Addie Collins. I always will. I messed it up horribly, and I’ll always regret hurting her.
I don’t think it’s possible for a person’s entire world view to change overnight, and I know I still have a long ways to go. I’m stubborn, as you know. But I have learned a lot since I first walked into your store, and I’ve learned that in order to hold on to something you want, you have to let go of something else. I’m ready to let go of my pride to make room to hold on to you, and that’s the best tradeoff I could ask for.
I’m rambling now, and I’m sorry. I just wanted to share my thoughts with you and let you see where I’m coming from. I want to give this a shot, Addie. I want to see if we can make it work. If we can’t, we’ll know we’ve done the best we could. And if we can, we’ll have each other for the rest of our lives, and I don’t know about you, but that thought makes me really happy.
Okay, read the article and tell me what you think. And maybe tell me what you think about this letter, but you have more time to mull it over.
He didn’t bother to read it over like he had the article. He just hit send, knowing that if he didn’t do it immediately, he’d chicken out, and she needed to know what he was thinking. He’d sort of told her, but he didn’t feel he’d been as vulnerable and forthright with her as he could have been, and that was something he meant to change if she gave him another chance. Now to wait and see what she thought—not only about the article, but about the letter.
***
Addie had been refreshing her email inbox every few minutes and had about decided he wasn’t going to send the article when it finally arrived. The email included not only the text, but the pictures he’d taken of the couples he’d interviewed, and she grinned as she saw the familiar faces smiling at her. The article itself was pretty impressive. Yes, it was obviously a rough draft, but the bones were there, and she could see that he had really stretched himself as a writer and tried to bring out the different layers of the story. She was proud of him—it was his best writing to date.
She clicked reply. You’ve got a typo here and there, but I’m not going to nitpick. Great work. You’ve shown the valley to its best advantage, and you’ve shown a lot about yourself, too. This one’s a winner.
Then she noticed that another email had come in from Jason’s email address. This one was entirely different, and she read it over twice before leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes.
Sometimes no had to mean no, and she’d told him no. She didn’t want to get tangled up in that again. He was promising, though, that things would be different this time. She snorted and shook her head. How many women had fallen for that line only to get hurt all over again? Too many, and she didn’t want to be another one to add to the list. Her situation was different in that Jason had never been abusive and she knew he never would be—he didn’t have that kind of meanness in him—but words had been exchanged, words that had stung and burned.
And she’d said fully half of them, but he still wanted to give it another try.
He was more forgiving than she was. But . . . was this a healthy thing?
There was so much about their situation that she had to blame on immaturity. Other things were definitely character flaws that needed to be overcome, if they hadn’t been already. Had they been stupid and thoughtless? Absolutely.
And now for the biggest question—were they both ready to move past all that and become the people they were capable of becoming, to be their best selves and create something lasting? Or was it better that they stay apart?
She knew she loved him, but that didn’t mean he was good for her. He loved her, but that didn’t mean she was good for him.
And this was way too complicated.
Finally, she clicked on reply.
A lot of water has gone under the bridge since then. Yes, I still have feelings for you, and I probably always will, but right now, I’m not sure what to do with that. We need to talk—to sit down and figure this out and see if we’re just reacting to our old feelings or if there’s something lasting here. Can you come back over? I know it’s getting late, but I think we’ll both sleep better once we’ve worked some things through.
She grabbed a bowl of ice cream while she waited for his reply, which was taking a long time to come. Had she accidentally said something that made him change his mind? She read over what she’d sent, and it seemed fine. Why wasn’t he replying?
The email he’d sent her included his cell number at the bottom. Okay, sure, it might come across a little needy, but they’d both put themselves on the line and they needed to keep talking, so she sent him a text, and when he still didn’t reply, she called. No answer.
How dumb was that?
If he’d gone to the store or something, he would have taken his phone—there was no reason for him to have dropped out of contact.
Finally, she put on her coat and boots and tromped out to her car. If he wasn’t going to answer, she’d just drive out to the KOA and pay a visit herself. Except that her car was still buried in the snow . . . Why hadn’t she taken care of that sooner?
“Hey, Mo,” she said when her friend picked up the phone. “Um, could I get a ride?”
***
“You are so lucky that I have no personal life of my own and can be your Uber driver at a moment’s notice,” Monique said when Addie climbed into her car a few minutes later. “An unpaid Uber driver, might I point out.”
“Sorry about that. You should start a tab for me.”
“Or I could help you dig your car out of the snow. That might be a better idea.”
“No, I think I’d rather pay you. The added benefit of therapy is important to me.”
“So, you wanna tell me why I’m driving you out to the KOA after ten o’clock at night?”
Addie had no idea how Mo would react to what she was about to tell her. “I got a long and rambly apology email from Jason tonight, and I sent him back a shorter and yet equally as rambly sort-of acceptance, and I haven’t heard back. He’s not answering his phone, either.”
“And you won’t sleep until you’ve ironed some things out?”
“You know me so well.”
“Sadly, yes. You are my source of entertainment. I don’t even need Netflix these days.”
They pulled into the KOA campground, and Addie spotted Jason’s truck almost right off. “Over there,” she directed.
They parked in the visitors’ lot, and Monique cut the engine. “I’ll walk in with you and make sure you’re both being perfectly congenial with each other, and then I’ll leave,” she said. “It’s too cold for me to sit out here in the car and wait for you, and I’m definitely not going to come in and be the third wheel in this define the relationship talk.”
“Thanks, Mo. I really appreciate this.”
Monique shrugged. “Apparently, this is what I do.”
When they reached the trailer, Addie knocked on the door, but didn’t get a response. The lights were on inside, so why wasn’t he answering?
“Maybe he’s using the bathroom,” Monique suggested.
“But I think that little window there is the bathroom, and that light’s not on,” Addie replied. She reached out and tried the doorknob. “I’m just going in. Trespassing? Yes. But this is kind of weird.”
“If you get arrested, I’ll testify on your behalf.”
“Thanks. You’re awesome.” Addie turned the knob all the way and pulled the door open. The fi
rst thing she saw was Jason lying on the floor, unconscious.
“Oh, my gosh. Jason!” She scrambled up the wobbly metal steps and into the trailer, dropping to her knees next to him. A quick glance didn’t reveal any blood, and she pressed her fingers against his throat. A pulse. That was a relief.
“Call an ambulance!” she yelled over her shoulder.
“Already on it,” Monique replied.
He wasn’t bleeding, but he was unconscious. Had he taken something? Was this an allergic reaction? Addie looked all around, trying to spot a medication bottle or something else that would indicate what was going on. Wait—was that kerosene over there in the corner? Kerosene? Who had that anymore?
Then her gaze fell on a space heater set up on the kitchen floor, and she realized with a jolt what was going on.
“We’ve got to get him out of the trailer!” She jumped to her feet and grabbed a sleeping bag from the loft bed above the table. “Mo! Help!”
Monique finished her call to the dispatcher and helped Addie roll Jason onto the sleeping bag, which she’d unzipped to make it bigger. The hardest part was sliding him out of the trailer—the satiny exterior of the sleeping bag made the scooting easier, but it was difficult to get him down the stairs without hitting his head on the steps or sliding him too fast. Thankfully, a man from the next campsite over heard the commotion and came running out to help, and they were able to lower him onto the ground safely.
“It’s freezing out here,” Addie said. “How are we going to keep him warm? And the ground is so cold—it’s got to be seeping through that sleeping bag.”
“Here’s a tarp,” Monique replied. She’d gone into the trailer to turn off the space heater and to see what she could find that would be useful. “And some spare blankets.”
They spread the tarp on the ground, laid one of the blankets on top of it, slid Jason on top of that, and then layered the other blanket over him. The man from next door returned with a few more blankets, and then all they could do was wait for the ambulance to arrive.
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