Montana Cherries (The Wildes of Birch Bay Book 1)

by Kim Law

  But she no longer felt as though she’d been in the wrong for writing the words she had.

  The other had become the place she’d allowed herself to feel over the past couple of months. It often seemed like blood had been shed as she’d written on those pages, but the blood—the tears—had freed her in a way she’d never imagined.

  How was she now? Had her wants changed?

  She was good. And quite possibly yes.

  But could she do anything about it, was the question.

  Or was it already too late?

  “You going home for Thanksgiving?” Aunt Sadie tactfully changed the subject.

  “I don’t know.” Dani leaned back, putting her elbows on the riser behind her, and stared up at the black night. If she went home for Thanksgiving, she’d get to see the stars.

  If she went home, she might get to see Ben.

  “I wonder if any of the boys will be there,” she questioned. She hadn’t asked them yet.

  “I understand they’re all planning to come home.”

  “Really?” Dani straightened on the seat. It had been years since everyone had been home for the holidays.

  “Jonas and I plan to, as well,” Aunt Sadie added with a tender smile. “We’re all hoping you can make it.”

  Her whole family would be in Montana for Thanksgiving? She had to be there.

  And maybe . . .

  Her stomach twisted into a knot. Was it too late to want more with Ben?

  Could she consider new wants?

  She loved her job here. Her roommate. She even loved the city—or . . . she didn’t hate it. But she couldn’t just walk away from the commitments she’d made here. Could she? She had clients who asked for her by name. She’d have to break a lease.

  But in Montana . . .

  She looked at the sky again. And she pictured Ben’s face.

  How much had she already lost?

  And was any of it salvageable?

  She nodded, returning to her aunt’s question. The decision to go home for the holiday was easy. “I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it.”

  The harder question was, would she go home seeking more?

  chapter twenty-seven

  Ben scrolled through the pictures on his laptop to find the one he wanted to work on next, and as it loaded he sipped his cup of coffee. He zoomed in, taking note of the details in the subject’s eyes. It was a woman in her early forties. She’d posed for him a couple of years ago. She wasn’t a professional, just someone he’d met at a coffee shop similar to the one he sat in today.

  He’d been taken with the woman’s eyes, as well as her entire face.

  Her bone structure hadn’t been perfect, but she was one of those people who was more beautiful because of it. He’d caught her unsmiling, and the shot seemed to invite people in.

  “Can I get you anything else, hot stuff?”

  Ben looked up and shot Karen an easy smile. Karen was a server he’d taken out a couple of times. Working on his book in the coffee shop most days, he’d become friends with her. So when she’d invited him to a Halloween party last month, he’d decided it was time to do more than spend his evenings staring at the lake. The date had gone well, and he’d asked her to the movies the following weekend.

  That had been fine, too.

  But then he’d cancelled on her at the last minute the previous Saturday. He felt bad about that.

  “I’m good,” he answered now. “Still working on my coffee.”

  She pulled out a chair and sank onto it. “How about something . . . that you can’t get here, then?” she asked, seeming embarrassed. It was endearing.

  “Like . . . an omelet?” he teased.

  She laughed. She was pretty—blonde, trim, maybe five-six. And she was nice. He’d been in here with Haley a few times after picking her up from school, and if Karen was on the clock, she always made it a point to stop and chat with his daughter, usually bringing her a place mat to color.

  “I wasn’t really thinking an omelet,” she admitted. Dimples flashed in her cheeks. “Maybe dinner? Thought you might be free this weekend.”

  She seemed to hold her breath as she waited, and Ben forced himself not to immediately decline. They’d had a good time together. It’s just that he hadn’t been overly eager to do it again. He’d rather spend his evenings with his daughter.

  He hadn’t hated it, though. He’d merely been neutral.

  But maybe he needed to reconsider. Push it a step further. Probably he should actually kiss her before writing her off.

  Only, he had little desire to kiss anyone.

  “There’s Haley,” he pondered out loud. She’d been his excuse for cancelling last weekend, claiming a babysitter emergency.

  Of course, there had been no issue. He and Haley had both ended up spending the evening with Max and Gloria, instead of Haley being there by herself. Gloria hadn’t asked about the change in plans, but she’d given him a look as if she’d known.

  As if it had something to do with Dani. Which it did not. He was over Dani.

  Or, he’d like to be.

  But with Dani’s regular conversations with Haley, he’d found that getting over her was harder to do than he’d anticipated. He’d watched her throughout the weeks. Every time Haley and she talked. He’d stood off to the side and drunk in the sight of her the way an addict might his vice. She looked good. And the last few calls, she’d seemed different.

  More confident. More settled.

  More satisfied.

  Which made him wonder if the satisfaction came from personal changes in her life . . . or from a man.

  The thought of her happiness coming from another man filled him with a level of jealousy he couldn’t have anticipated. Especially after more than three months of her being gone. It irritated him that he even cared.

  But the fact was, he did care. She’d hurt him. And then she’d moved on.

  While he’d remained in Montana spinning his wheels.

  “We don’t have to go anywhere,” Karen proposed. “I could come to your house. Haley could be there too.” She gave a hopeful shrug. “I’d cook.”

  He didn’t want her at his house.

  Actually, he didn’t want any woman there.

  So far, other than Gloria—and all of Haley’s friends—he’d only had men inside his home. He felt protective of the space.

  Haley’s birthday party had turned into a boys’ night-slash-girls’ party. The dads had all piled into his media room while the girls had overrun the remainder of the house. Plenty of chaperones had been on-site, but not one of them had been a woman.

  It had been a really great time, and there was talk of a repeat next year. Without the girls.

  But was he ready to have a woman at his house now?

  He thought of Dani once more. She was gone. He’d lost her. He knew that.

  He had to move on, in heart and mind, as well as in body. It was time.

  Just not at his house quite yet.

  “Dinner,” he said before he could change his mind. “But I’ll find a sitter, and I’ll take you out.”

  Karen’s smile grew bright. “Great. Tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. And tell Haley I said hi, will you?” She rose, and tossed him one last smile before heading to another table.

  Left standing in her place was Dani.

  Son of a bitch.

  “Hi, Ben,” she said, and hot anger shot through him at the flare of hope her presence caused.

  “Dani.” He schooled his features into an emotionless mask. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thanksgiving,” she murmured. “Everyone’s coming home.” Her hands twisted together in front of her as she glanced at Karen, and Ben watched her eyes, trying to figure out what she wa
s thinking. Why she was in the coffee shop.

  Why she stood before him after three wordless months.

  She’d never once asked to talk to him when she’d been on the phone with Haley. Nor had she even asked about him. Had he meant nothing to her?

  But then, hadn’t she made it clear she didn’t love him?

  She turned back to the table, and he forced himself to loosen the clench of his jaw.

  “And I’m here in the coffee shop because I needed to see you,” she said. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to want her.

  Only . . . Fuck.

  With a slight nod, he motioned for her to go on, giving silent permission for her to say her piece. He would hear it, and then he’d make sure she left.

  Dani stepped closer. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Ben.” Her eyes softened with her words. “I never wanted to, and I’ve felt bad about it since I left. But I do maintain my belief that I had to go. By myself,” she added softly, almost apologetically. “I’ve learned a lot over the past months. I have a better handle on who I am. Who I want to be.” She licked her lips. “And what I want in the future.”

  He stared at her and forgot to blink. What did she want?

  “You needed me to know something once before,” she continued. “And today I’m here because I need you to know something too. That I’ve missed you.”

  No words came to mind. He did force himself to blink, though.

  Then Karen passed through his peripheral vision, and he let his gaze follow her as his brain screamed at the injustice of Dani’s words. She missed him. What did that mean? Was he supposed to care?

  Did she think he’d pack his bags and head to New York now? After all this time?

  Because he wouldn’t.

  He didn’t need her anymore.

  As he continued to focus on Karen, he had the quick thought that Karen was the type of woman he needed. She was cute and normal. Nice.

  And she wouldn’t make him love her, then rip out his heart.

  He returned his attention to Dani, taking note of the overt glances being tossed their way from surrounding customers, and shut down the quickening of his pulse. He didn’t care that Dani had missed him. He couldn’t care.

  “You’ve been gone a long time,” he said. He didn’t adjust his voice for politeness.

  “I have.”

  “You told me to move on.”

  Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth and she nodded. “I did tell you that.”

  “That’s what I’m doing.”

  For a moment, she glanced down at her hands, and he thought she’d leave. He’d won. She would not stand there and verbally shred his heart.

  But then she looked back up, and he saw the determination in her eyes. “Could we find a more private place to talk, do you think? There’s more I’d like to say.”

  His instinct shouted no. They didn’t need privacy. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say.

  Only, he was an idiot when it came to Dani. Anyone watching the two of them could probably see that the mere sight of her brought him to his knees. She made him want to hope, and he couldn’t help but selfishly drink her in. He wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. Even if that meant listening to whatever else she had to say.

  Standing, he motioned with his head, and together they moved to a more quiet area by an empty booth in the back corner. Neither of them sat.

  He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I have missed you, Ben. A lot. And Haley.” She chewed on the corner of her mouth. “But I also came here today to tell you that I can love you now.”

  Ben’s heart clenched. “You can love me now?” he repeated. Ire rose inside him. “Well, thanks so much.”

  The woman drove him crazy.

  “What I’m saying is,” she began, the tightness of her mouth showing her frustration, “that I love me now. Or, I’m learning to. Therefore I can be capable of loving you. I tried to explain that before.” She made a face before adding, “I probably didn’t do a good job of it. I wasn’t completely sure I knew what I was talking about, anyway.”

  “Dani.” He held up a hand. “Just stop. You’ve been gone for over three months. Am I supposed to care at this point? What the hell does that mean, anyway? Capable of loving me?”

  “It means . . .” She stopped talking when Karen passed by, leading a customer to a nearby table. Karen’s gaze sought him out, and he couldn’t help but let his cling to hers. He needed to not need Dani at that moment.

  He needed to not need her ever again.

  Because her words were already reaching inside him. Seeking out more than he thought he wanted to give.

  “Never mind,” Dani murmured. “I get it. I’m too late.” She pressed her lips together and eyed Karen one last time, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths before turning back and staring directly at him. “I came here because I wanted another chance, Ben. You’re what I want in the future. That’s the other thing I figured out in New York. I don’t want to give up on us. But I see that option is off the table. I’ll be around if you ever want to talk.”

  She turned, then, and as she had the last time he’d seen her, she walked out of his life.

  And as he had before, he let her go.

  Two seconds later the spot before him was empty, and his head felt like it was spinning in circles. What in the hell had just happened? She wanted him back?

  She could love him now?

  What did any of that mean? Did she love him? Did he care?

  Did he want her back?

  And what had she meant about being around if he wanted to talk? Was she here for the week . . . or for longer?

  And again, did he care? He’d just moved on. Today. He’d made a third date with Karen. He intended to kiss her. Maybe more. He was over Dani.

  Only . . .

  She could love him now.

  She wanted him back.

  His chest deflated. He couldn’t get his hopes up. Not again. Not for Dani. His heart couldn’t take another beating.

  No. He shook his head, ignoring the renewed looks from customers. He’d stick with Karen. They had a date tomorrow night. That was enough. Karen was safe.

  And that was all he wanted.

  The smell of warm bread greeted Dani as the front door of her childhood home opened later that afternoon.

  “Dani!” Gloria gasped and Dani gave the older woman a little hey-I’m-home smile. “Come in. Please.” Gloria ushered her inside the house. “Your dad is in the family room. You’re earlier than we expected. He’ll be so pleased to see you.”

  Dani had shown up at the house, without calling or even telling anyone she planned to return to Montana before next Thursday, but as she’d driven up the driveway in her rental, it had occurred to her that this was no longer her home. She’d moved away. And her dad and another woman had moved in.

  Her dad and the woman he loved—who loved him back—had moved in.

  That was the pertinent fact. And it made her happy.

  But still, it was their home now. She couldn’t very well just traipse in the back door as she’d always done. Especially not when the air between her and her dad had not been fully cleared.

  Therefore, she’d found herself standing on the front porch like a stranger. And she hadn’t liked it one bit.

  As she made her way down the hallway, she caught a glimpse inside her open bedroom door. The colors were brighter in the room, and there was a new bed in there, as well as matching, breezy curtains hanging at the windows.

  “It’s still your room.” Gloria patted her on the arm. “It just needed a bed.”

  Dani nodded, unable to speak. The changes weren’t bad . . . just different.

  When she came into sight of her dad, he
rose from the recliner. “Dani.” His surprise was evident in his voice. As well as not a small amount of nerves. “What are you doing home already?”

  She wasn’t sure how to answer. Honestly?

  Instead of immediately replying, she took in the room. It was different, same as her bedroom. For starters, there was a lovely flowered armchair in the space where her mother’s chair had once sat. Dani had removed her mother’s chair before leaving, and the new one looked very much like something Gloria would pick out. It complemented her dad’s recliner nicely.

  The colors had been changed in here too. The room had a softer feel than ever before.

  Happier.

  And there was a basket of kids’ toys sitting by the fireplace. She assumed it was there for Haley.

  As she noted the changes, Dani could sense the nerves coming from Gloria.

  “It looks good in here,” she finally said, including the other woman in her gaze. “Really lovely.”

  “I was worried I might have changed too much,” Gloria hedged.

  “No.” Dani shook her head. “You didn’t. It’s needed this for a long time.”

  Her mother was now completely gone from the space, and seeing that had the strange effect of allowing Dani to breathe much more freely. Thus making her decide to answer her father’s question with brutal honesty. It was time to move beyond their issues.

  “I’m home because I missed it.” She faced her dad. That was part one of the truth.

  The lines on his face eased, and he crossed to her. They’d had several conversations over the past few months, but talking from twenty-five hundred miles away couldn’t compete with face-to-face.

  “I’m home because this is where I belong, Dad. I’m not healed—I won’t ever be ‘healed’—but I am better. I can’t forget, but I can forgive. And you’re my dad. Your life wasn’t easy either, I do understand that. You were a victim in your own right. So I’m here bearing an olive branch. I hope you’ll accept it and hold out one of your own.”

  He did better. He pulled her in for the best hug of her life.

  She clung to him as if she would never again get the opportunity to do so, and she noticed that his embrace felt the same. Their distance over the past months had been needed, but it had also healed.