Christie Ridgway

by Zane

  That last part he tried very hard not to think about.

  “I’m moving in with her,” Sam said.

  Blinking, Zane felt his mouth drop. “Huh?”

  “It makes sense,” his dad continued. “We’ll start our lives together in her place. She moved there after her husband died, so there’s no ghosts. Not like at our house.”

  “But…” Surprise stole Zane’s words.

  “It’s time I get out of my rut, as Brenda has been telling me.”

  “Grandpa Max lives there,” Zane pointed out, still trying to absorb the news.

  “And he can stay on in the apartment over the garage or go back to his house once it’s repaired. You know how he likes his own space. He won’t be sorry to live alone again.”

  “Do you…does she…” He shook his head, still amazed by the changes his father was proposing.

  “I love her,” Sam said simply. “She loves me. The past is behind us and we want a future together. And we want that future to start right now. As a matter of fact, we’re looking at the calendar to determine when we’ll become husband and wife.”

  Husband and wife? Zane blinked again, trying to take in this next piece of information. Really? He opened his mouth, about to gently suggest they slow the Sam-and-Brenda train down a little, but then he recalled what Harper once told him. A man who really wants to marry someone should want to settle on a date right away.

  “Well.” Zane got to his feet to man-hug his dad, adding a bone-jolting slap to his back. “I’m happy for you, Dad.”

  And he was, now that he was getting more accustomed to the idea. Happy for Brenda too. “Where is the lucky lady? I’d like to offer her my best wishes.”

  Sam nodded toward the pass-through. “At a table in the corner.”

  Craning his neck, Zane indeed saw Brenda, sitting with a mug in front of her. Across from his mother.

  He looked back at his dad. “She’s still here?”

  “For a couple more days, from what I understand. You should go out and say hello.”

  Beyond the brief and superficial conversation he’d had with his mother at Bailey’s soft opening, he’d not seen her or exchanged additional words with her. Engrossed in work and wrapped up in his bad mood, he’d actually not given her another thought.

  If he had, he’d guess she’d been hanging with Bailey. Adam certainly hadn’t mentioned her.

  But now she was inside No Man’s Land, with Brenda. Though that wasn’t so very weird, was it? Years ago, they’d been good friends. Good enough friends, he supposed now—hoped so, anyway—that his mother didn’t begrudge a new chapter of life for her ex-husband and the woman he’d worked alongside for so many years.

  “Go on, Son,” Sam counseled, in that dad tone of voice that was impossible to ignore. “It will be good for both of you.”

  As Zane approached the two women, Brenda rose from her seat. She’d done something to her hair, it was much shorter now and framed her face. But Zane guessed the new youthfulness he sensed about her was due more to the joy she’d found with Sam than a hairdresser’s scissors.

  Way to go, Brenda.

  “Hey.” He kissed her cheek as she passed him on her path to the kitchen. “Welcome to the family.”

  That brought a sheen of tears to her eyes.

  He recalled the same in Harper’s Thursday night when she’d dumped him and felt another flood of…whatever it was. He ruthlessly tamped it down, though, and continued to his mother. She watched carefully as he lowered into the chair across from her.

  “Zane,” she said, inclining her head.

  “Mom.” He studied her face, unsurprised to find she looked older, but just as beautiful in the natural light of day. “You’re still in town.”

  “I have a suite at the Broadleaf. I’m going home Monday morning, but I want to be with Bailey at Blue Moon during its first weekend.”

  “I’m sure she appreciates that.”

  His mother glanced down at her mug, her hand turning it in idle circles. “I have considered stopping at A To Z Watersports, but I wasn’t sure of my welcome.”

  Zane shrugged. “You should come by if you can make the time. It’s no fancy farm-to-table restaurant, but Adam and I like it. It’s the perfect business for us.”

  She glanced up at him now, a small smile curving her mouth. “I’m so glad. I always said you’d get everything you wanted.”

  “Yeah.” Even when he’d been struggling for his next breath, she’d been certain, so he’d been certain. “Thanks for that.”

  “I know I hurt you, though, by leaving. That I was selfish—”

  “Let’s not go there.” He didn’t say it to be kind, he said it because it was all so long ago he saw no point in raking through the old pain. The anger he’d felt then had no place in his present.

  “All right.” His mother nodded, then sipped from her mug, set it down again. “I enjoyed meeting your friend the other night. Though I’m supposing Harper’s a little more that.”

  He was already shaking his head. “It’s not going to work out between us.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’m not the right guy for her,” he found himself telling his mother. “I’ve always been a man not interested in settling down—I just don’t see myself that way. And she deserves more. A forever type who’ll be all that that means.”

  “And you aren’t one of those forever types?”

  “Nope, like I said, I just don’t see myself that way.” He linked his hands on the table. “I’m going to be the bachelor uncle. The ice guy.”

  His mom tilted her head. “The what?”

  “You know. The guy who’s only trusted to brings bags of ice to the holiday bashes. Maybe a dozen rolls or two if I really prove myself.”

  She laughed. He suddenly recalled that sound, the lightness of it and how it had once filled their old house. “That doesn’t sound like much to look forward to.”

  “It’s who I am.” He shrugged. “How I’ve always been.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t change, Zane. Be different. You can change your plans for yourself and what your future might be.”

  As his dad would say, get out of his rut? But he shook his head again. “No. I—”

  “Take it from me,” his mother said, reaching across the table to touch her fingertips to the back of his hand. “Things might turn out different than you expect. Sometimes a dream drags you forward, right out of your comfort zone.”

  Sunday morning, Zane woke when it was still dark. He stared in the direction of the ceiling and for the first time felt the silence of his house as oppressive. Not to mention lonely. The A-frame could use more laughter, he thought. A softer touch. A woman’s voice.

  Echoes of her voice and of her perfume.

  He jackknifed up, eager to get away from that uncomfortable notion. At the first thump of his feet to the floor, Gambler came awake, shaking and dancing and communicating his impatience for breakfast with a cold nose in the cup of Zane’s palm.

  The dog scrambled down the stairs ahead of him and then ran circles in the kitchen, his tail sweeping the pencil sharpener off the low desk. “Whoa, boy,” Zane said, as always amazed by his dog’s unceasing energy. It was incredible how this bundle of furred mania and odd panics could quiet when around books and little Bella.

  The child’s presence calmed him and it seemed, with her, he’d found his canine purpose.

  Not unlike the peace Zane had found with Harper. He’d slept in her library and on her couch, both unprecedented. Things he’d never shared with his twin—about his hapless romance with the Southern belle and about the guilt he’d felt when his mother left—he’d revealed to Harper. He’d never let down his guard like that with any other woman.

  Then there was that bookmark he continued carrying around like a talisman. Why couldn’t he let it go?

  Why didn’t he want to let her go?

  Because she’s your purpose, a voice inside him said. Your purpose is
to make Harper happy. To be that forever man she deserves.

  “I can’t,” he said aloud, alarmed by the concept. His mouth dried and his stomach went queasy. “Even if I wanted to, I’m not—”

  Sometimes a dream drags you forward. His mother’s voice echoed in his head now. Right out of your comfort zone.

  You can change your plans for yourself and what your future might be.

  Change. That damn word that had been plaguing him for weeks. He didn’t want to, damn it—or more precisely, he didn’t think he could. Nobody had ever considered him husband material before and that’s what Harper Grace deserved…a man who could be soft when she needed him to be. A man who could be gentle. Everybody knew Zane was that bull in a china shop only guaranteed to break things.

  Later, still troubled by his early morning thoughts, he met his brother, Ryder, and Wyatt at the staging center for the mud run, just on the outskirts of Sentinel Park. Though they did some heavy lifting—cases of water, boxes of first aid supplies—all looked to be in readiness for the nine o’clock start time. Kudos to the Eagle Scout-in-the-making and particularly the volunteers from the fire department. They’d designed and built the mud-and-obstacle course on a vast tract of cleared county land that usually stored heavy machinery as well as supplies for road and sewer repair.

  What he didn’t see was any sign of Harper, even when there was a mere hour to go before the runners were to set off. Had she decided not to participate after all?

  He was standing beside Wyatt, both of them dressed in athletic wear and with their contestant numbers pinned to their shirts, when the sassy swing of a ponytail caught his eye.

  Half-turning, he saw her twenty-five yards away, her head bent over a clipboard, dressed in running tights and a matching long-sleeved runner’s tee. Someone walked by and paused to have a word with her. She looked up at the person, smiled.

  And Zane felt that heart he’d always supposed to be as hard and unmovable as the rest of him tumble down to his toes, then bounce up to his throat, before settling behind his ribs once again, beating there at a frantic, urgent pace.

  It was then that the truth that had been swirling around him all morning—hell, probably since she’d shut the door in his face Thursday night—finally penetrated his stubborn brain.

  He was in love.

  He was in love with Harper Grace.

  That’s what it meant, the peace he experienced when he was around her, the purpose he felt compelled to pursue—her happiness—the anticipation rising inside him as he imagined explaining this to her and persuading her into his arms once again.

  Would she believe he wanted a forever with her now? Because, so help him, he did. Badly.

  It was a change, sure, but change was in the air, and if Bailey could do it, and Adam, and even his dad and Brenda, then Zane was going after what he now wanted too.

  “You are gone for that woman,” Wyatt said. “Don’t even bother lying to me about it.”

  Zane looked over at his friend. “I—” he began, ready to deny the charge.

  But he never wanted to lie about that, he realized. To himself, to anyone. “I do,” he told Wyatt, his heart still beating wildly. The sun seemed to shine brighter and the trees and sky bombarded him with an extra dose of beauty. “God help me, I really do.”

  “Then you owe me,” the other man said. “And I have spent some time considering my end of the wager. As a matter of fact, I’ve struck upon the perfect thing.”

  Uh-oh. Wyatt’s oh-so-cheerful expression didn’t give Zane a good feeling in his gut.

  It only got worse when the man shared the exact price Zane would have to pay for falling in love.

  Protest was compulsory, because hell, it was just too much to expect. “Damn it, Wyatt, come on—”

  The former SEAL crossed his arms over his chest. “A bet is a bet.”

  A bet is a bet. Words Zane had lived by, and might possibly die of humiliation by. “Fine, whatever.” Still, he glared at his friend. “If this causes me to permanently lose the girl, I personally guarantee your next career move will be to Seattle’s Woodland Park Zoo, where you’ll be elephant shit scooper-in-chief.”

  Harper’s nerves were strung to the breaking point as she walked about the mud run staging area checking on the final last minute details. Not only did she want the event to be a success for the library, but she’d realized it was also a testing ground for her ability to remain in Eagle’s Ridge. Thanks to all that needed to be accomplished in the last couple of days, she’d had plenty of reasons to remain holed up in her office. But today she’d be forced to face community members, new friends, and Zane’s family.

  She wasn’t entirely sure, but maybe even Zane himself.

  If that hurt too much, if knowing she could never have him as her own was going to make every day in Eagle’s Ridge a misery, then she was going to have to move on.

  In the middle of a sleepless night, alone in her bed and remembering his every touch, his every word, his smile, she’d struck upon the idea that the mud run would be her trial. The four miles of mud and obstacles were sure to exact a physical and emotional toll—because her determination to participate came straight back to Zane, after all—but if she could cross the finish line on her own, then she was strong enough to stay in this town even when he moved on to some other woman.

  In a place so small, she’d be sure to hear about it. See it.

  Just the thought ripped a tear in her heart, but maybe she could find the inner strength to carry on. This morning she’d find out.

  Now it was time to gather near the starting line, with its wide banner declaring Get Dirty for Books! She handed off her clipboard to Josh, the almost-Eagle Scout, and took a place at the very back. Though she’d considered saying a few words before the “gun” went off—they’d be using the siren function on a megaphone—she left that to the mayor and the fire chief.

  Mayor Warren thanked the hundreds of participants and the dozens of volunteers. The fire chief explained where to find the aid stations, urged participants not to push too hard, especially those young, old, and new to physical endurance trials. After that he led them all in a pledge, making them repeat they understood that the event was “a challenge, not a race.” “Teamwork” and “partnerships,” he told them, were more important than individual achievement this Sunday morning.

  Then the siren blasted and the crowd began to move.

  From her position at the very back, Harper and the knot of participants around her at first could only manage a slow jog. Caught as she was amongst them, she really couldn’t see what was in store and mostly worked on managing to avoid the elbows of the people on either side of her and trying not to step on the heels of the person directly in front of her as they climbed a substantial hill.

  Still, the incline and her lingering nerves had her breathing hard as she breached the top. The woman beside her was panting too, and she gave Harper a sidelong look. “It gets harder than this,” she said. “I hope I don’t embarrass myself.”

  “Yeah, me…” Then her words trailed off as the ground fell away below them and they could see what lay ahead.

  Yellow flags, the small ones like landscapers used, delineated the snaking path that led from obstacle to obstacle. She saw muddy ponds of water, low hills, a maze of old tires hanging from chains. Then a couple more ponds, these topped with lines of “razor wire”—she’d been told it was actually flexible and rubber covered—that would require participants to bend or crawl, followed by wooden walls with long ropes flung over them to aid in climbing. More mud. More water. Balance beams across even more rectangles of sludgy water. Hay, piled twenty feet high would be interesting to scale when one was damp and dirty. Beyond them, metal culverts were half-buried and would require more crawling and ducking.

  She exchanged a look with the other woman. “Fun?”

  Her companion lifted her hand, inviting a high-five. “Let’s get dirty for books!”

  And then they set off, their pace
still impeded by the crowd ahead. But they persisted, encouraged by the volunteers and spectators milling about the space, yet staying well clear of the inevitable muddy arcs of water as people ran, stumbled, and fell in the process of moving through, up, over, or down what was put in their way.

  Harper quickly understood where her training had been incomplete. While the actual one-foot-in-front-of-the-other was doable, she should have also worked on her upper body strength. On the first wooden wall she was expected to mount, she stalled, her hands slipping on the rope that was supposed to aid her way.

  Disappointment and frustration made her scowl. She couldn’t give up so easily. Then she felt a hand on her behind, boosting her up. “C’mon, you can do it.”

  She glanced over her shoulder to meet distinctive blue-green eyes, and for a moment her heart squeezed and her grip went slack. That hand gave another push and she realized it was Adam, not Zane, who was behind her. With renewed determination, she scrambled upward, and upon reaching the top was able to give him a breathless “Thanks.”

  He smiled, its similarity to his brother’s giving her heart another quick wring. “You okay?”

  His kindness made her nose sting and she blinked away hot tears. “Great,” she mumbled.

  “I’ll watch you climb down,” he said gently. “Go slow. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

  Why did that sound like he referred to something else? she wondered, as she picked her way to the bottom, using the 2 x 4 footholds provided.

  Then Adam was passing her, with a pat on the back and a quick wink. “Keep an eye out for my brother.”

  Oh, no, she groaned silently. That meant he was here, didn’t it? But she wasn’t going to be looking for him. She was going to keep her head down and cross the finish line without giving him another thought.

  Okay, she thought of him a dozen times as she struggled along the route. Nerves jangling, worried that any moment she might come across him, she stumbled and fell face first in a waist-high vat of thick mud. Chagrined, she clambered to her feet, rivulets of wet dirt oozing off of her, and was grateful to find a firefighter once she climbed out who had a hose in hand, ready to spray clean water. She closed her eyes as he rinsed her down and only opened them to see Bailey standing nearby, Gambler on a leash at her side.