“Wow,” Alex says. “That’s kind of cool.”
“Pot roast with mashed potatoes was his favorite home-cooked meal,” Willa says as she dishes up Alex’s plate. “With extra gravy.”
“I want extra gravy,” Alex says. “What other foods did he like?”
“He loved pizza with Canadian bacon and pineapple,” I say, thinking about it.
“I don’t like that,” Alex says. “What else?”
“Remember that burger place that used to be just outside of town?” Willa asks. “He loved that place.”
“One time, when we were in high school, Cary and I went to that burger joint, and he hit on the waitress.”
“I didn’t know that,” Willa says.
“Well, she turned him down flat. But as we were leaving, she gave me her number and asked me to give it to him. She was shy.”
“Did he call her?” Alex asks with a grin.
“He did. And they went out on a date. I think it was his very first date ever, but he was so nervous, he threw up on his way there. He had to stand her up and go home to clean his car.”
“That’s horrible,” Willa says, her face horrified. “Poor Cary.”
“He ended up doing all right,” I remind her with a raised brow, and she laughs with a nod.
“That’s true.”
“What else did you used to do with my dad?” Alex asks as he shoves mashed potatoes into his mouth, then slips a piece of meat down to Rocky.
“When we were really young, like about your age, we would go camping.”
“Alone?” Alex’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Yeah, just the two of us. My dad would drive us up the road a bit from their old house where there was a campground, and we’d pitch a tent and roast hot dogs on the fire that one of the other campers would make for us.”
“Good God, don’t even think about doing that,” Willa says to Alex, rubbing her fingers over her forehead. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“No way, this is awesome,” Alex says with a laugh. “Can you take me camping?”
“I don’t see why not. Oh, this one time, we were down at the river fishing, and your dad caught a fish that was at least five pounds.”
“No way,” Alex says with excitement. “My dad liked to fish?”
“It was his favorite thing,” I confirm. “And he was good at it, too. I always thought it was a little boring, honestly.”
“I’d like to fish.”
“Maybe Papa will take you this summer,” Willa says. “Papa taught your dad, you know.”
“Papa’s good at lots of things,” Alex says with a nod. “He’ll totally take me. He said he’d teach me how to play baseball, too.”
“Your dad was an all-state baseball player,” Willa says. “Max and I used to go to every single one of his games to cheer him on.”
“Wow,” Alex says. “That’s really cool. Does he have trophies?”
“I’m sure he did,” I say with a frown and look over to Willa. “Do you know if Jean and Dan kept any of his things from school?”
“I think so,” she says with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll ask them, and then when they come up for the summer, maybe they’ll show them to you, Alex.”
“That would be awesome. I think Thursdays are going to be my new favorite. It’s even better than Taco Tuesday. Tell me more.”
“Well, remember when I said your dad loved to fish? This one time…”
I settle in, eating and telling stories about my best friend to my son, watching his face light up in excitement at hearing about the man who gave him life.
And when I gaze at Willa and see the love reflected back at me, I realize that the worst moment in my life gave me the best ones. That as we move on from grief and guilt, we’re blessed with the gift of joy and love.
And I don’t think I can ever thank Cary enough for that.
Epilogue
~Willa~
“THIS IS A TRADITION?” Alex asks as we set up camping chairs in the snow at Cary’s grave. “With root beer and everything?”
“I usually bring real beer, but neither you nor your mom can drink that, so, root beer it is,” Max says with a wink, pops the top off one bottle of the soda, and sets it on top of the tombstone. I lay the red roses at the base of it. “Your dad gets the first one.”
Max opens three more and passes them to us, and then we all sit down as if we’re settling in for a long chat.
Because we are.
“Hi, Dad,” Alex begins. The train whistle blows, making me smile and look over at Max, who’s also grinning. “I guess this is my first time here.”
It’s been a year since the day I walked up to this spot and found Max here. A year since my world changed forever.
“I think you’re old enough to come,” I reply and take a sip of my root beer. It’s cold, but we’re all nicely bundled up, with toe and hand warmers stuffed into our socks and gloves. “You can talk to him, you know.”
“Yeah,” Alex says, staring at his bottle. “We have lots to tell you, Dad. First of all, Mom and Max got married last year. I call him Dad now, and I hope that doesn’t make you mad.”
The train whistle blows again, and I smile softly. Cary’s here, and he’s talking to Alex.
“The wedding was in California, which I thought was kinda weird at first, but it turned out really great.”
Alex spends the next fifteen minutes giving Cary a play-by-play of the past year.
“Oh, and I got a dog. His name is Rocky. I wanted to bring him to show you ’cause he’s the best dog there is, but Mom said it’s too cold today, so he’s at home. I’ll bring him in the summer so you can meet him.
“My best friend, Pierce, got a dog, too. But Rocky’s better. When I told Pierce that, he said I was full of shit.”
My head whips up in shock. “Alexander Cary Monroe-Hull. Watch your mouth.”
He grins and giggles. He loves to say shocking things so I use his full name. He was thrilled when Max presented him with adoption papers at our wedding, hyphenating his last name.
“His dad would have laughed his ass off at that,” Max whispers to me, and I narrow my eyes at my husband.
“You’re not helping.”
“We get to move into our new house this summer,” Alex continues, chatting as if he were actually sitting with his dad. “And I’m excited because I have a whole suite of rooms, with a game room and everything. Mom’s gonna let me decorate it. Oh! And Mom has news, too. Go ahead, Mom.”
“You want me to tell him?”
“Yeah.” He takes a swig of his root beer and grins.
“Well, we’re going to have a baby.” I cover my belly with my hands over my coat and rub a circle. “We’re only halfway there, and she’ll probably come when it’s time to move into the house because nothing’s ever easy, but we’re excited.”
“The baby’s suite is the same exact size as mine,” Alex says. “But first, she’ll be in a room by Mom and Dad’s room that they’ll make into a sitting room later.”
He sounds so grown-up, talking about babies and house plans.
“When did you grow up?” I ask him. “Where’s my baby?”
“In your belly.” He giggles. “I’m a big kid, Mom.”
“That you are. Do you have anything else to talk about?”
“No, I think that about covers it,” Alex says.
“Then I guess we’d better go,” I reply. “If you want to get some skiing in this afternoon, we need to get a move on.”
“I wish you could ski with us,” Alex says.
“It’s not that I’m afraid, Alex. Remember?”
No, I’ve let go of the fear.
“I know. You have to protect Bailey.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m going to hang back for a second,” Max says and kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is perfect. I just need to thank him.”
&nb
sp; I frown, but then understanding dawns.
“He already knows, my love. But I understand.”
I turn and follow Alex to the car, with Bailey turning circles in my belly. I don’t know what Max just said to Cary, but the train whistle blows behind me.
Chapter One
~Fallon~
“NAMASTE.”
“Namaste,” my class repeats. Some of them jump up immediately to get on with their days, and some sit quietly for a few more minutes.
Summer yoga is my favorite. I get to teach classes every morning at the Lodge on the Lake, for tourists and locals alike. Some days we’re overflowing with newcomers, and some days like today, it’s mostly familiar faces.
The sun rises early in this part of the world during the summer months, so a start time of seven a.m. is perfect to get the blood moving through our veins.
“Sorry I came rushing in late, Fallon,” Nina Wolfe says with a smile. She’s rolling her mat. “I can’t believe I over slept.”
“No worries,” I reply. “It happens to all of us. I’m just glad you made it.”
She sighs and walks over to me, her mat slung over her shoulder. Nina is a pretty blonde woman, with an athletic body and a happy smile. She moved to Cunningham Falls, Montana just a few months ago to be closer to her brother, Christian.
Who happens to be Christian Wolfe, the hottest Hollywood actor in the world.
Of course, he’s married to another client of mine, Jenna.
“How long have you lived here, Fallon?” Nina asks.
“Oh goodness, it must be almost two years now.” I blink rapidly, realizing that this is the longest I’ve stayed in one place in more than five years. “Wow, time flies.”
“Was it hard for you to feel like you fit in? To make friends? I mean, I have Christian and Jenna, and I have acquaintances of course, but—”
“I get it,” I say with a nod. “Small town life is different. There’s not a lot of people here, and it feels like there are a lot of cliques.”
“Yes,” she says with a relieved nod. “And most everyone I know is originally from here, so they have that network in place. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy.”
“You’re not,” I assure her and pat her shoulder. “And it does get easier.”
“Why don’t we go get some drinks or coffee or something sometime,” she asks. “I’ve been coming to your class for months. We’re friends.”
“Sure.” I reach into my bag and pull out a card. “My cell is on here. Just text me and we’ll set it up.”
“Awesome.” Nina grins and takes a step back. “I also might have some professional things to discuss with you. Pick your brain.”
“I’m always happy to have my brain plucked.” I wink and sling my bag over my shoulder, walking toward my car. “Have a good day, Nina.”
“See you!”
I climb in my Jeep and drive toward my house, which is just a couple miles away. Sometimes I walk to class, but I was running late this morning myself.
And I admit, I like the feel of the sun beating on me, the wind blowing through the Jeep as I drive.
After the long Montana winter, summer is just what the doctor ordered.
I’ve just stepped through my front door when my phone rings. I grin as I answer.
“Hey there.”
“Hi yourself.” Claire, my friend from back home, yawns in my ear. “Whatcha doing?”
“Just got home from class,” I reply as I brew some tea. “It sounds like you just woke up.”
“I did.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Does that mean someone just left?”
“He left awhile ago,” she says. “And I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” I carry my tea out to my back patio and sit at my outdoor dining table. This spot is what sold me on renting this house. The trees and bushes are in bloom, making it feel like a magical garden.
“He moans weird,” she says, making me laugh. “Like an old man bending over to put on his socks.”
“Not sexy,” I agree.
“Too bad, too. He had a nice body. Ah well, there are about a billion more out there.”
“With nice bodies? Maybe not a billion.”
“You’re right. Are you dating a hot cowboy yet?”
I grin and trace the Drips & Sips logo on my mug. “No. It’s a small town, Claire. Not a lot to choose from.”
“So when are you going to move on to the next place? Or come home?”
I sigh, thinking it over. I don’t think I’ll ever move back to Chicago. Now that my grandma’s gone, I don’t have any family there, and Claire is my only tie to the city. I’ve been roaming around the country, living in my bucket list towns for the past five-plus years.
“I like it here,” I reply.
“You’ve been there longer than the others.”
“I know. I just realized this morning that it’s been almost two years. I like the community. I’m making friends.”
Claire scoffs in my ear.
“What was that for?”
“Fallon McCarthy, you don’t make friends. You make acquaintances. And even then, getting to know you isn’t easy.”
“I know,” I murmur. That’s the way it’s always been, my whole life. I’m an introvert. I enjoy my own company more than I like being with others. “People exhaust me.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re better in a small town,” she says. “Fewer people.”
“That’s definitely a plus,” I agree. “What are you doing today?”
“I’m going in to work for a bit.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Hey, you worked today.”
“For an hour. I don’t have any other classes today.”
“Well, I have some accounts to work on. What are you going to do with the rest of your day?”
“I think I’ll go on a short hike,” I reply. “It’s a beautiful day today.”
“Like, on the treadmill?” she asks. “A simulated hike?”
“No, city girl, a real hike. In the woods. On a path.”
“Do you, like, have hiking boots?”
I smile and tip back in my chair, enjoying my friend. “I have hiking shoes. They’re not boots.”
“Huh. Well, whatever floats your boat, my friend. Have a good day.”
“You, too.”
I hang up, go inside to rinse my mug and put on the hiking shoes that will need to be replaced soon, and drive across town to my favorite hiking trail.
One of the things I like best about Cunningham Falls is all of the outdoor activities here. There are miles and miles of hiking trails that the city keeps groomed and safe for hikers. Last week when I came to walk on this particular trail, it was closed due to mountain lion activity.
That gave me pause.
But I carry bear spray, and the only animal I’ve ever seen on the trail is deer.
Half-way up to the lookout point, I get a text from Nina.
Breakfast tomorrow? 9:00 at Ed’s?
I grin and type a quick reply.
Sure, see you then.
Claire’s right, I don’t easily make friends. I wouldn’t even consider Claire my best friend. She’s a close friend. But the sad thing is, she’s probably the best friend I have.
I just don’t tell her everything.
I don’t even have a bunch of baggage in my past that would cause my lack of trust in others. No one has betrayed me. Or bullied me.
It’s just my nature to hold back. To be the observer and soak everything in.
And because of that, I am sensitive to moods and emotions, and that’s exhausting.
So instead, I’ve made a habit of being a loner. It suits me fine.
But having breakfast with a new friend sounds fun, too. Maybe I’m just evolving as a person. I’m only thirty-two. A person can change.
I come around a corner and shift to the side of the trail so a runner can zoom past me. H
e nods in thanks and keeps going.
Nice ass, I think to myself with a grin.
I set off again, about to come over the ridge to the overlook. It’s a great place to sit and breathe, watching the lake and the boats floating on it, not to mention the gorgeous Blacktail Mountain above it.
But a rustling in the bushes catches my attention. I reach for my bear spray, just in case, but then pause and squint, trying to see what’s going on.
“It’s a bird,” I mutter, stepping closer. A white head pops up and I gasp. “A bald eagle. Hi there, sweetie. Are you hurt?”
One wing is flapping, but the other wing isn’t moving at all.
It’s hurt.
“Crap, I don’t know what to do about this. I’m not ready.”
I look up and down the trail, but there’s no one close by. The runner is long gone.
So, I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Claire.
“Did you get eaten by a tiger?” she asks.
“There are no tigers in North America, Claire. But I did find an injured eagle. I don’t know what to do?”
“Why did you call me?” she asks.
“Because I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”
“Call animal control?”
I frown, watching as the poor thing struggles. “What are they going to do? Fine it?”
“I live in Chicago, Fallon. I don’t know. Call 911. Call the sheriff. Call anyone but me.”
“Thanks a lot.” I hang up and take a deep breath. “Who do I call for you?”
A veterinarian!
I Google vet offices in Cunningham Falls and call the first one on the list.
“I’m on the Bear Mountain trail, just outside of town, and I found an injured eagle. What do I do?”
“Oh, you’ll want to call Spread Your Wings,” the receptionist says. “They’ll come help you.”
“Thanks.” I hang up, not at all sure of what Spread Your Wings is, but a phone number comes up when I Google it, so I call.
“This is Noah.”
“Uh, hi, my name is Fallon. I just found an injured eagle.” I repeat my location.
“Don’t move,” he says briskly. “I’m coming right now. How far up the trail are you?”
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