by A. J. Pine
“Sam, she said again, the playfulness gone from her tone.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, you can kiss me.”
He skimmed his fingers over the hair at her temples and brushed his thumb over a scratch on her cheek. He cradled her face in his hand and dipped his head, brushing his lips softly against hers. It had been less than twenty-four hours since they’d done this, but it felt like weeks. She tasted so good, and it felt so right to hold her. Yet the second he got scared, he pushed her as far away as possible.
“Scout!” Delaney blurted.
He laughed, thankful for the levity, then leaned back, his brows drawn together. “Um…I may not be an expert at this, but I’m pretty sure when you kiss someone, you’re not supposed to call out their dog’s name.”
She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Is she okay? I’m so sorry she got messed up in this, that any of you did. I promised myself I’d keep her safe, and if she—”
“She’s fine,” Sam assured her. “Snout’s a little itchy, but she’ll be back to sniffing out any rodents trying to get onto the property in no time.” He laughed. This was good. They were talking. And kissing. This was progress, he hoped. He just wasn’t sure what came next. “That’s how she got her name, you know. The shelter who found her said she was keener than a bloodhound.”
“She’s a lucky girl.” Delaney smiled. “Now about that kiss…”
Sam didn’t need to be asked twice. He drew her close and tilted his head toward hers.
The kiss was soft and sweet. He didn’t want to linger too long, not when he had so much to say.
He held out his right hand, and she linked her fingers with his, like it was the most natural thing to do. And if he weren’t so damned terrified, he’d be doing it every day from here on out. But he didn’t know how to let go of the fear, which meant the best gift he could give her was letting her go instead.
“I need to show you something,” he said.
He led her through the ER lobby and out into the blaring, late-morning sun. The small parking lot was fairly empty, so when she gasped, he knew she’d found her surprise.
“Millie!” she exclaimed, then ran toward the old car like it was a shiny new bike sitting under a Christmas tree.
Once she’d decided to stay in town whether her car was fixed or not, they hadn’t pushed Boone to get it done sooner rather than later. Just by the end of the festival. But today was the day. She wasn’t stranded anymore.
Sam pulled the key fob out of his pocket and unlocked the door just in time for her to throw it open. When he caught up with her, she was sitting on the driver’s seat hugging the steering wheel.
“Wow,” he said. “You two go way back, huh?”
She nodded and held out her hand. “Key, please.”
He obliged. As the engine roared to life, he rounded the rear of the vehicle and let himself into the passenger side.
“Boone and Colt brought it by about an hour ago. Figured you’d be happy about it, but I didn’t realize how much.”
Cold air blew out from the vents, and she let out a contented sigh. “Millie’s my proof,” she said. “Bought her all by myself and kept her going all these years. She’s my reminder that no matter how many wrong turns I might make, I can still get to where I want to be without anyone else having to rescue me.” She winced. “Unless I forget my EpiPen.”
But she was right. She could stand on her own two feet, and he loved that about her. She was resilient. She’d bounce back after their whirlwind of a week, and the thought gave him comfort.
She pressed a palm to his cheek, and he held his breath.
“I didn’t know about Revolver before last night,” she said. “That he was your dad’s. He liked the Beatles, huh? That is a great album.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “After what Wade pulled last night—and this morning, I guess—I realized that he is never going to change, not for me or anyone else. It has to be what he wants.”
“I know,” Sam said. He also knew she was talking about more than Wade.
“It really hit me while I was in the exam room,” she continued. “All the pieces of your life that weren’t entirely yours—the horse named after your mom, a truck that belonged to your dad, and that beautiful framed photograph on your bookshelf of a family before it splintered off into separate parts.” She looked away and let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, so I was snooping that day. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re holding on to pieces of a past that is long gone.” She paused. “I know your future is uncertain—more so than for other people. Having to watch your dad go through this and realizing it could be you someday? I can’t imagine how scary that is. But I also know that what you did last night—pushing me away—was because you think asking someone else to help you shoulder the burden of that fear is asking too much. But you never even gave me a say. You just made up your mind what was best for me.”
Sam’s chest tightened. “My father hit you,” he said, finally addressing the elephant in the room. He couldn’t stop seeing it in his head, couldn’t stop imagining it was him and not his dad. “I know I need to cope with what might happen to me. But if the test results are positive, that means coping with me being the one to hurt you like that someday.”
“He didn’t mean to do it.” She shook her head and wiped away a tear before it fell. “I love you, Sam. Whether you get tested or not. Whether the test is positive or not. If you need to cope, I want to cope with you. But until you forgive yourself for what hasn’t even happened yet—until you understand that you are worthy of being loved no matter what—there’s no chance for us.”
He couldn’t imagine hearing any better words falling from her lips. I love you. Yet it felt like his chest was caving in.
“I love you too,” he said after a long silence. “But I don’t know how to do what you’re asking of me.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Then it’s for the best, right? Relationships that start under intense circumstances never work out anyway, and I don’t think it gets more intense than us.”
He laughed at his romantic life being summed up by a line from an action movie. Yet nothing about the situation was funny at all because Delaney Harper was really leaving.
He kissed her anyway. There was nothing he could say to fix this, not when she could see something in him he couldn’t see for himself. So he tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her good-bye. He took one final taste of her lips and tried to tell her without his fumbling words that he would be the man she wanted if he could. And when she took his hand and pressed his palm over her heart, he let himself believe that for the span of this kiss, in a tiny little car that seemed to defy the odds, he was exactly that.
“I can come back and help you pack up,” he said, his throat tight.
She shook her head. “I don’t think I could handle saying good-bye to you again,” she said. “I know it goes against the reason I came here in the first place, but maybe just this once we should take the easy way out, let this be it.”
He nodded once, then exited the vehicle, wishing that if he closed the door she’d turn the car off, come after him, and tell him that she’d wait until he figured himself out. But it wasn’t a fair wish. He knew that. Delaney knew it, too, which was why she pulled away and didn’t look back.
After she’d gone, Sam drove to see the only person who might understand what he was going through—who’d loved and lost like he had to an even stronger degree. He wasn’t supposed to show up until later that afternoon, but suddenly it seemed the only person he could talk to was his father.
When he walked into the game room of the memory care facility, Nolan Callahan was thumbing over a stack of board games trying to pick which one to play, and his partner—sitting at the table his father stood on more than a week ago when he and Delaney had first met—was an older woman with chin-length wavy brown hair, a few stubborn grays woven through. She wore
a simple blue sweater, jeans, and her telltale riding boots.
The original Barbara Ann.
“Mom?” he said.
She looked up and smiled. “Well, Nolan,” she said, still facing her son. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”
Nolan Callahan spun toward his son, beaming. “You’re just in time.” He held up a box. “Cards Against Humanity.”
“Dad,” he said. “No.”
His mother laughed. “Not while Sam’s here, at least.”
“Why wasn’t I invited to the family reunion?”
Sam turned to find Ben standing behind him. It was the first time all four of them were in the same room since—well, since who knew how long.
“I’m as shocked as you are,” Sam said to his brother. “I was just stopping by to check on Dad.”
“Same here,” Ben said.
Together the two brothers approached the table, both with the same careful steps they’d use to avoid spooking an animal.
Nolan waved them off. “Sit down already. It’s just your mother, for crying out loud.” He picked up another game box. “How about Yahtzee? It’s good practice for casino night.”
Sam and Ben kissed their mother on respective cheeks and sat.
“Okay, someone better explain what’s going on because I don’t think I can handle any Yahtzee until this all makes sense,” Sam finally said, and he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yeah,” Ben added. “I’m with big bro. How long has this been going on?”
Their mother blew out a breath, and her eyes grew wet.
“I messed up,” she said, a tear streaking her left cheek.
Nolan collapsed into the empty chair and dropped Yahtzee on the table. Then he wrapped an arm around their mother’s shoulders and gave her a soft squeeze.
“So did I, darlin’,” he said, then kissed the top of her head. “But that’s all in the past now. Let’s worry about the future.” Nolan beamed when he looked at his sons. “There’s something I never thought I’d say.”
Sam shook his head. “But Ted. And Tahoe. And…Ted.” He couldn’t even formulate a complete sentence.
Their mother nodded. “Ted’s a good man. But he’s not the right man. We separated last year. When I moved out, the first thing I did was drive out to see your father.”
Sam felt as though he’d been leveled with a right hook all over again. His mom left her husband for his dad, after all that had happened?
“Dad, you were telling the truth? When you said Mom would be sad to miss the Orionids? You’ve been seeing each other regularly?”
“Why didn’t anyone here tell Sam about you having other visitors?” Ben asked. “Why didn’t you tell anyone, Dad?”
Nolan waved them off, but his face grew serious. “Look, I know how much you boys do for me, how much you sacrifice. It’s hard for me to put into words what that means. Your mother and I, we didn’t want you to worry. We didn’t want to say anything until she found a place up here and had a chance to figure out how and what to tell you.” He laughed. “I don’t think there’s a manual for this.”
“I guess now would be a good time.” Sam’s mother pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed under each eye. “I never forgave myself for leaving when things got tough.”
“You didn’t know what you were up against,” Nolan interrupted. “None of us did. But we know now.”
Nolan sounded like himself, like the man he was a decade ago. He sounded like their father again.
Their mom nodded. “I always figured if I’d been so angry with myself, then you boys would likely never forgive me. But I’ve missed you so much—all three of you. I hope you’ll let me try again.”
Sam had endured enough heartache to last him a lifetime. He didn’t have the energy to withhold forgiveness, not when he was more his mother’s son than he’d ever realized.
Delaney would have stayed, would have loved him no matter what. But because he couldn’t run away, he’d convinced her to run instead. He didn’t want to be that guy anymore. Delaney learned to face her fears head-on, and it was time Sam did the same.
He could still get tested, and if those fears were realized, then they’d have time to prepare. He and Delaney didn’t have to be his parents, not if she could forgive him.
He reached for his mother’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Welcome home, Mom.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
One week later
Delaney enjoyed the three days a week she worked as a tech in a local veterinarian’s office. If not for the couple of slot machines in the waiting room—animal themed, at least—and the fact that Vegas was Vegas and not a small ranching town in Northern California, she could almost make herself believe that she had everything she wanted.
Today, though, she sat in the back office of her family’s motel paying a few invoices and cleaning out her inbox.
“Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail,” she said to herself as she highlighted a whole column of messages she was too lazy to open and click Unsubscribe. But then she saw it, the email she’d been hoping to receive since she left Meadow Valley last week. It was from her aunt Debra, and the subject line simply read No court!
She clicked open the message, her finger shaking as it tapped the mouse pad.
“Beth!” she called, hoping there weren’t any patrons up front. “Beth, get your ass back here!”
She threw a hand over her mouth.
Oops.
There was a reason she was meant to work with animals instead of humans. None of that pesky language etiquette to get in the way.
“What’s wrong?” Beth asked. “If you’re calling me in here for something related to a living thing with four, eight, or more legs, you’ve got the wrong girl.”
Delaney laughed and shook her head.
“Wade’s pleading guilty to the forgery. He’s going to prison for six months.” She winced. “I didn’t mean to sound excited about the second part.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “He got off easy,” she said.
Delaney worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “When he secures legal employment—somewhere down the line—he’s mandated to pay some of his salary to me each month until he makes financial restitution.”
Beth’s brows rose. “I’m impressed. Wade Harper is finally doing something right.”
Delaney nodded. “Which means no court date for the whole sort-of-being-kidnapped incident or to prove the forgery—and no having to go back to Meadow Valley.” Her throat tightened as she spoke the last two words. “I can finally close the book on all things Wade Harper and Meadow Valley.”
Beth crossed her arms. “You said Meadow Valley twice in the span of about four seconds.”
“I did not,” she said defensively.
“Lanes. You find a way to mention Meadow Valley at least once a day. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re disappointed you don’t have to go back. But you know, if you wanted to go back…”
Delaney turned her focus back to her laptop, pretending she was typing something important when really she was just seeing how quickly she could type the alphabet without looking at the screen.
“I already tried that, remember? Fell in love, got my heart broken, lost my land again.” Well, she never actually got it back. But still. Potato, potahto.
She pointed to the map on the wall behind Beth. “Every day, I throw a new dart, see where it lands, and do my research. Soon I’m going to find the perfect place to open my rescue shelter.”
Beth spun and strode toward the map, inspecting it, running her fingers over it.
“Funny,” she said, “but it looks like there are an awful lot of holes up here in Northern California. You sure you’re not throwing the dart in the same place every time?”
Delaney blew out a breath. So what if she was? She tried to aim at the Midwest, the Northeast. But the dart kept going west.
“Hey,” her sister said. “It’s okay if a lifetime in the desert isn’t for you. I don�
��t want to be a Vegas showgirl forever, you know. In fact, as soon as I get the guts to tell Mom and Dad—and come up with some sort of a plan—I’m heading to New York. Don’t suppose you’d want to head out with me? I bet there are plenty of stray animals who’d love you to take them in.”
For the first time since Delaney could remember, her always bold, take-no-prisoners little sister sounded scared.
Delaney smiled. “You know I’d do anything for you—except that. You’re the city girl, not me. But when you’re in your first show as the newest member of the Rockettes, I’ll be in the front row at Radio City Music Hall.” She got up from her chair and hugged her sister tight. “I know it’s terrifying, but if chasing a dream was easy, everyone would do it. Good thing you’re the bravest girl I know.”
Beth laughed. “That’s great advice. Wonder if that applies to anyone else in this room.”
She was saved by the bell—the front desk bell.
“Whose idea was it again for me to take Monday mornings so Mom and Dad could sleep in?” her sister asked as she headed back up front.
“I am brave,” Delaney mumbled, collapsing back into her chair. “And I chased my dream. Twice.” To the very same place, and where had it left her?
She stared at the map on the wall, squinting at the cluster of tiny holes all in the same part of one particular state.
Sam wasn’t part of the dream she’d been chasing, but maybe dreams could change. Where once it had been a place and a purpose, what if it also included a person? And a dog?
A meow came from under her desk, and Butch Catsidy leapt into her lap.
“And a cat,” she said.
She picked her phone up off the desk.
“Damn it, Sam,” she said out loud. She loved him, no matter what. No matter how scared he was. Yet she’d left.
Maybe he needed to hear it again. Maybe she needed to make a recording of it and play it on loop until he believed her. Maybe—maybe she should tell him.
“Screw it,” she said, talking to herself again. “If dreams were easy…”