Under a Firefly Moon
Page 8
He could help Chey, help this place keep its focus on the environment; that was what had drawn folks to settle there in the first place. He wasn’t against growth. Development had its place in all types of societies. The key was making sure that the development was thoughtful, that it enhanced rather than diminished a place. His work shone a spotlight on the individuality of a place, with an eye to preserving it and caring for those who called it home. Man, beast, and plant life. He grinned, shook his head, and climbed out of the truck. It surely wouldn’t be his most exotic location, but his followers had come to trust him. He could make it all work.
The beautiful oak and stained glass front door to the main house opened and Tory stepped out on the porch and waved, then started down the steps and across the yard toward him. He wondered what she’d think of his idea. It was obvious Tory hadn’t clued Chey in to what he did for a living, but perhaps she would now. He and Tory had kept in sporadic touch since she’d first tracked him down to tell him about Cody; she followed him online and knew what he was about. Professionally speaking, anyway. Technically, he’d been the sporadic one. Tory was nothing if not a champion communicator. But the nature of his work filled in most of the gaps he hadn’t.
At first, connecting with her had made him more than a little leery. Zachariah was dead and buried by the time Tory had contacted him, but even then, he hadn’t felt comfortable reestablishing old ties. Mostly because it closed too many links in the chain between where he was and wherever Chey had ended up. Tory had kept her friendship with Chey and him separate, but apparently even she had her limits.
“There you are. Was wondering if you’d gone off on yet another wild adventure somewhere and lost your way back.” Her expression was unreadable. Very unlike Victoria.
He opened the door and got out, leaving the bags from his errand runs on the seat of the truck. “Something happen? I thought dinner wasn’t till seven.” He checked his watch, which was also a compass, odometer, elevation register, and kept time in four countries. Plus, wearing one was old school, and he kind of liked that. It was only a little past five, eastern standard time in the US. He glanced back at Tory. “Sorry if you needed the truck. I didn’t know.”
“The things you don’t know could fill volumes,” she said, making him frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Chey’s gone.”
He’d turned to reach into the cab to grab the bag containing some rudimentary toiletries; he’d inadvertently packed his own in the bags that had gone on to Wales with his crew. He’d showered and changed in the loft Tory was moving into, but didn’t want to impose any more than he had to. At Tory’s surprise announcement, he immediately turned back. “What do you mean, gone?”
“Two of her rescues—horses—needed to be looked at by the local vet. Nothing serious, but now that she has her trailer back, apparently she decided it couldn’t wait another day, so off she went. She told Vivi not to hold dinner for her.” Tory had said that last bit rather pointedly. “I knew she wasn’t going to be happy with me, pulling this little scheme, but I never figured her for a runner.” She looked directly at Wyatt. “Did you two talk things out? Did it not go well?” She folded her arms.
Wyatt had to resist the urge to smile, knowing that likely wouldn’t go over well at the moment. It was just that he’d forgotten how much he liked Tory. Years off the competition circuit hadn’t dimmed her focused determination one bit. He wasn’t keen on being the target of said focus at the moment, but it brought back good memories. “So . . . she’s gone to run an errand? Aren’t you being a little overly dramatic?”
“She’s not going to be here for dinner,” Tory repeated, as if that explained everything.
“Does that mean I’m uninvited?” he asked, thinking maybe it was just as well. If Chey was absenting herself now after the conversation the three of them had had at the lake, then she clearly wasn’t up for him sticking his nose into her business, which was a completely legitimate beef. Though she might have simply told him that.
“Of course not. Vivi extended the invite, not Chey. My point is—” She broke off, threw her hands up, then let out what sounded like a strangled shout of frustration.
“What is your point, Tory?” Wyatt asked, quietly this time. He realized now where all this angst was coming from. He wasn’t too happy about it, but that frustration would have to get in line behind all the other things he wasn’t too keen on at the moment. “What exactly did you think was going to happen when you surprised the two of us that way?”
“I thought you’d both act like adults,” she shot back, but he could see his rather pointed comment had hit home.
“We have,” he told her. “Despite the fact that we didn’t ask for this and had absolutely zero time to prepare ourselves for it.”
“Well, you were never going to find each other if I didn’t do something,” she said, arms crossed again now. But her defensive tone was matched by a look of regret in her eyes.
“That doesn’t mean you get to choose,” he said, gently this time.
She blew out a long breath and let her hands drop helplessly to her sides. “It just seems ridiculous for the two of you to not reestablish the wonderful friendship you once had.”
“Did you ever stop to think there might be a good reason why that friendship ended?” he asked, his tone dry now. He wasn’t angry, or even upset, really, but he did think she ought to consider her actions.
“Of course I have,” she told him, surprising him with her straightforward response.
“And without knowing why, you—” He stopped. “Or has Chey—”
“No, she hasn’t.” She walked closer and leaned against the side of the truck, her defenses down now. “It’s been a challenge, maintaining a friendship with you, and separately with Chey, and not being able to even talk about one to the other, to share stories, or . . . any of it. But that’s what I signed on for when I tracked you both down. I realize you didn’t come looking for me.”
“Tory—” he said, feeling chastened.
She raised a hand, halting his response. “This isn’t a pity party. My point is, I needed the two of you. I wanted you in my life when we all went in different directions. I realize that you didn’t feel that same need. You were dealing with . . . getting away from your father. Chey was dealing with losing her brother, then eventually her aunt and uncle, and leaving her rodeo life behind for good. You each needed to do what you needed to do. I respected that then, as I do now,” she added, then smiled at his dubious look. “I do, Wyatt.”
“I know you do,” he said. “It’s just—”
She cut him off again. “Let me finish,” she said softly. “We’ve all moved on from our past life together. You and Chey have each moved forward through some tragic and horrific challenges. I know you both; I love you both. I know what kind of friendship you had. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes.” She smiled briefly. “Truth be told, I envied it. I was so jealous of Chey when I first met her. I mean, she not only had the best brother in the world, but she had you, too. I would have given anything for a brother or a sister.” Her smile flashed to a fast grin. “Why do you think I worked so hard to make friends with you both? I couldn’t make the world give me a family, so I went out and made one of my own.”
He smiled at that. “And we were the better for it, Tory. We still are.”
“Right?” she said with faux indignation, then they both laughed.
“Maybe I’d have gone on forever with you both being part of my life, and just hating that you weren’t part of each other’s. I don’t know.” Her smile sobered. “But then I found out from one of our old circuit mates that Buttercup was still alive and not in a good way. And I couldn’t get through to wherever you were in the wilds of the Nepalese alps. So, I went and got him and called Chey. If I’d been able to keep him myself? Well, I don’t know what I’d have done. I’d have told you for certain. But I couldn’t keep him where I was, and I didn’t know anyone else who would be wil
ling to take him on. He was in really bad shape, Wy. I couldn’t ask that of anyone else. I knew Chey was rehabbing rescues, and she knew Buttercup.” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “So, I did what I had to do. I jumped through many mental hoops trying to figure out how I was going to let you know Buttercup was alive, but was with Chey—” She groaned again. “I never could get the words right.”
“You could have told us, let us decide how we wanted to handle it,” he said, understanding better now the predicament he and Chey had unknowingly put her in.
“Could I?” she asked him. “I don’t know. You two are the best people I know, but when it comes to each other, you’re obnoxiously stubborn.”
Wyatt lifted one eyebrow. “Hello, pot, I’d like you to meet kettle.”
She accepted the gibe with a brief smile but continued. “I didn’t want to be in the middle of that. I’m tired of being in the middle, Wyatt. I know I asked to be put there when I kept our ongoing communications separate from one another. If she’d ever so much as spoken your name, maybe I would have told her—I don’t know.”
“But she didn’t,” Wyatt said, surprised that of all the things that had been said and shared between them, this was what pinged most painfully at his heart. What did you think, Reed? She was pining after you all these years when you flat-out shut her down? The truth of it was, she’d been the one to shut him down first, but he’d long since stopped holding on to that sliver of indignation.
“Anyway, maybe I handled this wrong, maybe I’ve completely screwed up my friendship with Chey, and blown my chance at finding something up here before I even got started.” She looked around. “I mean, look at this place, Wyatt. Of course, she loves it here. Who wouldn’t? It’s gorgeous. But if she doesn’t want me here after this, I won’t stay. She’s worked too hard to find herself, to figure out what she wants to do, who she wants to be.”
“You didn’t blow it,” he said. “Yes, you can be determined, but Chey certainly knows that. If she hadn’t wanted your friendship, she’d have shut you out long ago. She didn’t invite you here on a whim. That’s not who she is.”
“That was before I pulled this little stunt,” she reminded him.
He shook his head. “If you think her friendship is that shallow, then maybe you—”
“Yours was deeper with her than anyone’s,” Tory reminded him quietly. “And look where you two ended up.”
The reminder gave him a little gut punch. “That was different, Tory. And what’s done now is done, anyway. Chey knows, as I do, that you were doing what you thought was right by us both. And by Buttercup. Things happen, life changes. The three of us know that better than anyone, right?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how it will end up with Chey, but you and I are okay. Right? I’m betting once Chey has a chance to step away and sort things out for herself, she’ll be okay, too. That’s probably why she took this run to the vet. Whatever the case, we’ll sort things out.”
“You won’t leave until we do?” she asked.
He lifted his hands. “I can’t promise that, but I’ll make sure everything that can be said is said. Okay?”
She frowned, seeming surprised he hadn’t given her a more definitive promise. “All right. Well, you may not feel like you owe me any favors right now, but I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d go talk to her.”
“Tory, she didn’t take off because she wanted to be chased down. Especially by me. I know we haven’t been around each other in a long time, but I am pretty sure I can still guarantee you that.” He flashed to the conversation with Vivi earlier that day, how Chey and he instinctively turned to each other, sharing and gauging their reactions to what they were hearing, just as they’d done when they were younger. He and Chey might be strangers to each other in some ways, but the core of who they were hadn’t changed.
“I don’t think she’s sorting things out. I think she’s hiding so she doesn’t have to. There’s a difference.” Her shoulders fell then, and her expression wasn’t merely worried; she looked helpless.
Wyatt knew Tory rarely let any vulnerability show, so that was no small thing.
“Okay, full disclosure,” she said. “Maybe this is about me, too. I just got here, Wy, but I already don’t want to leave. I adore Vivi. The stables are amazing old works of stone and wood. I can’t wait to meet Hannah, who is so graciously letting me stay in her loft. And Avery, too, whom I’ve heard so much about. All of Chey’s stories were about this place and these people and how they renewed her life. Renewed her heart after Cody died. Yes, I want all the parts of my life to come together, for her, for me. And for you, even when you go traipsing off again.” She laid her hand on Wyatt’s arm. “I am sorry, truly, if I messed up. I don’t want to hurt either of you. You are all I have, the two of you. I know that sounds sad and pathetic, but—”
Wyatt pulled her in for a short, tight hug. “You didn’t screw up anything.” Then he ruffled her hair, which he knew she’d always hated—because she’d earned that much, and because she had always been the sister he never had. Bossy, intrusive, and so certain of his worth. She’d defend him to the ends of the earth and kick him right in the ass when he needed it. She had done both for him and Chey, though far more of the latter than the former, and he knew he’d never properly thanked her for it. “Wanting your life to come full circle, to surround yourself with people who mean something to you, to find a place you feel good in, where you can finally put down real roots is the opposite of sad. And there has never been anything pathetic about you. You’re hopeful, and we could all stand to have a bit more of that.” He let her go, then slid his hands down her arms so he could look at her. “We come from the kind of life that most people could never understand. It’s true I’ve made friends all over the world in my travels, and some of them mean a great deal to me.” He grinned. “Many, if not most of them, have lives even more weird than ours were.”
“I always assumed that was the draw,” she said with a laugh that sounded a bit watery. “You found your people.”
“Maybe,” he said, then laughed, too. “Probably. But close friendships or not, none of them, not a one, knows who I was back then, my life, or anything about it, other than that I grew up raising bulls in a family business. You know. Chey knows. That’s it. You’re it. And that means something.”
Her eyes widened, and he saw understanding hit home, but what she said was, “Not if you’re still trying to put it behind you.”
“There’s only so much I can do, Tor. I know I haven’t said this to you, and I should have. I am very grateful you hunted me down to tell me about Cody. More grateful still that you stuck around. I don’t have siblings or family, either.” His smile then was genuine, without reservation. “Except you. I may not approve of, or have been particularly thrilled with your methods of bringing about this reunion, but then siblings don’t always agree on everything, right?”
Her eyes grew glassy then. “So, you’re really not upset with me?”
He shook his head, then took her elbow and tugged her into a hug. “Okay, maybe a little, but I’ll get over it.”
She knuckled him in the ribs and he winced even as he laughed and hugged her more tightly still.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” came a soft female voice from behind them. “I didn’t see anyone, or that you were—”
Wyatt loosened his hold on Tory but kept his hand on her shoulder as he turned, instinctively putting himself between her and the newcomer to the conversation. “No, that’s okay,” he said, his smile open and friendly. He dropped his hand to his side as Tory stepped up beside him.
“Victoria Fuller,” Tory said, extending her hand. “Oh, you’re Hannah, aren’t you?” Tory’s smile could have brightened a cloudy sky. “My new landlord. I’m so happy to meet you!”
The woman nodded and took Tory’s hand in a quick shake but found herself enveloped in a brief hug instead. Her smile was as immediate and sincere as Tory’s when the two parted. “I am, and me, too,�
� she said with a laugh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. I didn’t know you were coming so soon. I haven’t had the chance to really get in there and straighten up. I just use the place as a painting studio these days and I’m not really doing much of that out here, either.”
“No, no, that’s okay. Chey didn’t know exactly when I’d arrive, I’m afraid. I wanted to surprise her with something of a family reunion.”
“Oh?” Hannah said, then glanced at Wyatt expectantly.
“Wyatt Reed,” he said, extending his hand. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the immediate faltering of her sunny smile. Or the brief look of shock that passed over her face, followed by a quick series of expressions he honestly couldn’t read, as Hannah glanced between the two of them. All he knew was that none of them looked favorable.
One thing was clear, though. Chey might not have talked about him to Tory over the years, or Vivi, for that matter. But Hannah definitely knew who he was. Or thought she did, anyway.
Just when he was about to pull his hand away, she reached for it and gave it a quick shake. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “I just—you caught me off guard.” She didn’t say anything else.
Tory glanced between the two of them, even as Hannah was sizing him up.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Wyatt said, hoping his wide smile would cut through the suddenly awkward tension. “I understand from Vivi that you’re one of the artists out at the mill. A Bluebird, I think they call you guild members?”
Hannah looked surprised, but she smiled. “Lavender farmer, mostly, but yes, I am a painter in my spare time. And a member of the guild.” She looked at Tory. “And in case you’re worrying about the loft, being a member means I have a studio there now. I’m also pretty much set up at Will’s. Now that it’s getting warm, I expect I’ll do most of my painting outdoors anyway. All that is to say I won’t be coming in and out. My place is your place, for as long as you need it.”
“Thank you,” Tory said. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your kindness.” Her smile spread but Wyatt saw the determination behind it. “If it works out, I’d like to set up some kind of lease agreement, pay you rent.”