After double-checking the baby monitor’s volume, Thomas hooked the receiver on his belt and left the nursery, keeping the door cracked open a foot. Downstairs, he collapsed in the recliner.
Robbie lounged on the couch. “Thomas, I gotta say: you’d make a good dad one day. Have you ever thought about it?”
Thomas flipped up the footrest. It was already after eleven. In Andrea’s family room, all the lights were dimmed except one table lamp. “Never wanted them. I guess I figured I was that apple at the foot of my parents’ mangled tree. And if I had kids, I’d mess them up.”
“You aren’t your parents.”
“My brain knows that. But this voice keeps reminding me that I’m bound to hurt anyone I get close to.”
“Tell that voice to stuff it.”
Thomas thumbed the seam in the recliner’s arm. “It isn’t that easy, Robbie.”
“What about Blue?”
“I don’t think she’d appreciate me saying that to her.”
“Oh, ha ha. Do you honestly think you could ever hurt her? The way your dad hurt your mom or your mom hurt your dad? No way. There’s no rule that we have to turn out like our parents. We get a choice.” Robbie grabbed his coat off the arm of the sofa and spread it over him like a blanket as he settled in for some sleep. “You know, I’m glad you called, brother. I’m happy to help with bedtime or middle-of-the-night feedings. It’s a good reminder of what’s coming my way in May. But why didn’t you call Blue for help? She knows kids as well as I do.”
Thomas cracked his neck from side to side.
“She can handle being around kids. She’s a tough girl. Do you remember the junk she put up with during football season? And that hit she took?”
The hit that Thomas felt rattle his own spine just watching? The hit that tore her ACL, put her on a surgeon’s table, and ended her season?
“I bet you blame yourself for that, too.”
“I missed a tackle. If I’d done my job—”
“She’d have still gotten hit. I saw it clearly from the sideline. You had two guys on your flank. You had to choose. Just like the dam that day.”
“Robbie—”
“No, you need to hear it. I know that you’re still beating yourself up about it. You couldn’t have known Ella was on that riverbank. You had a job to do, and it was to protect the integrity of the dam and the river. If you failed at that job, there could’ve been a whole lot more lives lost.”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Robbie.”
“I just want you to know that you aren’t some danger to her and any children that might come your way. And inviting her in, whether that’s into a situation like this with someone else’s children or into a future, maybe with kids of your own, isn’t called risk. It’s life.”
“I don’t want to ever hurt her.”
“And here I thought I was the dumb one. Of course you’re going to hurt her. And she’ll hurt you. We’re fallen people—even the best of us. Our job is to try and then do everything we can to make things right when we fail. And if you love her and she loves you, that will be easy.”
Thomas dipped his chin once.
“At this point, I think you’d hurt her most by holding back all that you’re feeling. Not to mention yourself. Give happiness a chance for once in your life. Now let’s get some shut-eye. Your namesake is going to be waking up in a few hours.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Walker family basement was dark and quiet except for the scratching at the closet door. Thomas tried to ignore it until the low whine nearly broke his heart.
“Poor girl,” Blue said breathlessly. “I think we’ve been in here longer than seven minutes.”
Without taking his lips off Blue’s neck, Thomas turned the doorknob and opened the closet door. Molly, excited to have found her people, bounded around their feet, until Thomas nearly fell forward. To keep from pinning Blue against the shelf of board games, he steadied himself with one hand on a stack of puzzle boxes. The last time he was in this closet, he’d been much smaller.
“It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been in here,” Thomas said. “We’re playing Sardines, not Seven Minutes in Heaven. And the rules say when you find the person hiding, you must squeeze in beside them and wait for the last person—or in this case, dog—to come along. I’m just following the rules.”
Her giggle sent his nerves into a complete frenzy. “Funny how you become so talkative when it suits you.”
“Blue, I could give an entire discourse on why I should never stop kissing you.”
Her lips reached for his once more, then she stepped away from him out of the closet, into the main part of the basement. “My turn to hide. Count to twenty, then come find me.”
She flashed a glint of a smile before disappearing into the darkness. It took all his self-control to not immediately chase her. Molly felt the same way, and Thomas had to kneel and hold her collar to keep her from running after Blue. The dog whined.
“Now you know how I feel. But instead of twenty seconds, I had to wait decades to catch her.” The transition from friends to more was smoother than he’d imagined. It just made sense to share his days with her, cook dinner alongside her, and tuck her (and his dog) into bed each night before heading home himself. And when he was on shift, it felt right sending her texts telling her he missed her—those sentiments were far easier to type than say. And when he came home, especially after a particularly hard call, there was no greater comfort in the world than her arms around his neck. Happiness, as Robbie called it, felt good.
“Ready or not, here we come,” he called.
Molly galloped up the stairs ahead of him. But while she kept going up to the third floor where the bedrooms were, Thomas felt his way through the kitchen, then into the family room. A sound turned his head, like something hard—maybe a button—scraping against glass. He moved to the windows—the ones that offered a glorious view of the Madison River and the canyon if the curtains were ever pushed out of the way. But Blue still struggled to look at the river more than a few seconds at a time. He ran his left hand along the row of curtains, walking slowly, listening for more sounds giving away her location. His hand plowed into something soft, and she laughed. Thomas searched for the closest opening in the draperies. When he found it, he ducked behind them. She greeted him with a kiss that lingered deliciously long as they waited for Molly to find them. With luck, the dog had already retired for the night in Blue’s bed. Something caught Thomas’s eye. A wave of green across the sky above the river. And another.
“Blue, look. The northern lights.”
She kept her focus on Thomas.
“You’ll be fine. I’m right here.”
Slowly, Blue turned her face toward the glass, toward the northern lights, and toward the river. He felt the chills course through her, and he held her tighter. “It’s . . . amazing.”
And so was this. He could do this forever with her. If this is what marriage looked like, maybe he wouldn’t be so bad at it after all.
She tilted her chin up to him, and he kissed her, sealing a promise with himself to do whatever it took to make this thing last.
“Blue? Honey?” a voice said as lights flickered on.
Blue’s eyes grew wide. My parents, she mouthed.
“Are you here?” her mother said.
“The garage is open, so she better be here.”
A big, goofy grin stretched across her face. She rested her forehead against his chest, and her shoulders shook in silent laughter. At least she thought this was funny. Meanwhile, Thomas felt sweat trickle down his back.
“Why were all the lights off?” Her mother again.
A rumble reverberated from the direction of the stairs, followed by toenails on tile. “Whose dog—? That’s Thomas’s dog.”
Something nudged Thomas’s leg through the curtai
n. They were caught.
Blue and Thomas both felt for the opening in the drapes. Eventually, they found it and revealed themselves to her stunned parents.
“Hi, honey. Thomas,” Mr. Walker said. “What were you doing behind there?”
“Northern lights,” Thomas said, at the same time Blue blurted out, “Kissing.”
Thomas angled a glare her way, but she exuded only mischief and pride with that smirk of hers.
While her parents looked between the two of them and his crazy dog who was currently lying on her back, awaiting a belly rub, Blue ran to them for hugs. A few seconds into the embrace, she beckoned for Thomas to join them. Although he did step forward, he did not enter into the hug. Neighbors didn’t hug. That was something families did. Just not any family he’d ever had. Molly, of course, had other ideas, and soon, she was right there between their legs.
Despite Blue’s attempts to loop Thomas into the conversation, he stayed in the background as she and her parents chatted about the current season of The Dragon’s Lair. They had a break from filming and decided to come home to surprise Blue. The following season was slated to be their last. Then the Walkers would return full-time to the States. Where would Blue be at that time? Still living in their house? Or maybe . . .
Thomas scolded himself. He shouldn’t be thinking of her or marriage. It was far too soon. Still, the way she lit up when she was surrounded by family was nearly enough to make him take a knee right now.
Perhaps that was what he was thinking an hour later when he jumped from the mountainside to the porch roof, nearly sliding to his death—or at least a bad fracture—on the slick snow. He rapped on her window, only to be greeted by his dog’s black nose pressing against the glass and fogging it up. Someone really should train her. Blue blushed as she nudged Molly out of the way and then lifted the window.
“You’re crazy,” she said. “How icy is it out there?”
“Pretty icy. I wanted to kiss you good night. It was a bit awkward down there with your parents. Plus, this might have been something I used to imagine doing in high school.”
“Me, too. We really should’ve communicated better.” She leaned down, and he drank in the heat from her lips.
The bedroom door opened, and Blue’s mom yelled, “Oh!”
Thomas’s feet slipped, but Blue caught his hand on the window ledge.
“For the love, Blue. You are twenty-nine years old. If your boyfriend wants to kiss you good night, invite him to walk through the house, not kill himself climbing onto the roof. Thomas, you get inside and let yourself out through the door once you have”—Mrs. Walker waved her finger their way—“done whatever you’re planning to do. Blue, I was going to invite you to come to a Valentine’s Day brunch with us on Sunday. Thomas, you’re invited, too.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Walker.”
“Thomas, we’ve known each other a long time. From the looks of it, we’ll keep knowing each other for a lot longer, too. Please, call me Linda.”
* * *
* * *
A chocolate fountain at breakfast? I can’t say I’ve ever had that before. The Woodwards sure know how to throw a brunch, don’t they?” Thomas stretched his arms above his head, soaking in the mid-February sunshine as they walked to his Bronco. It was about as mild a winter day as Montana ever saw. One could actually step outside without instant frostbite on exposed skin. Still, Blue’s mouth seemed to be frozen in a straight line. It had been that way all morning, prompting Are you okay, dear? many times. Now, Thomas was about to ask the exact same question.
“Will you go somewhere with me?” she asked. “Please.”
“Anywhere.”
Blue looked out over the mountainscape. She found the river snaking its way across the land. “Okay. I’d like to go to the cemetery. I bought something to go on the grave—for Valentine’s Day.”
Tender, steady hands rested on her shoulders. “I’d be honored.”
The drive to the cemetery was quiet, except for the classic country song playing over the radio. Garth Brooks. Normally, she loved this song. “To Make You Feel My Love.” After all, this was how she felt about Thomas, and she guessed it was how he felt about her. There was no doubt they’d move heaven and earth for each other if necessary. But that sentiment was weighed down by her first visit to the grave since the funeral. She could do this. She needed to do this. For Ella.
They were the only ones in the small parking lot. A single set of tracks led in and out since last night’s snow. Thomas parked in the spot closest to the cemetery’s entrance. He came around and opened the door for her. Blue withdrew the gift she’d purchased last week. A small stuffed dog—yellow—Ella’s favorite color. It actually looked a bit like Molly. And wouldn’t Ella have loved that sweet girl? Especially the nightly sleepovers.
As they walked along the unshoveled sidewalk, Thomas held her tight against him. His feet almost matched the early-morning visitor’s footsteps completely. In size, but not print. She felt bad. Thomas had worn his one pair of dress shoes to this brunch, and now here they were, traipsing through snow.
Curiously, the footprints brought them straight to Ella’s grave and stopped before turning around and heading back to the lot. Who on earth . . . ?
The gravestone lacked the inches of snow that shrouded the other ones surrounding it. Whoever had visited had not only brushed the snow off the marble but also placed a small yellow teddy bear on the ground in front of the words Our sweet girl.
Blue’s legs weakened. Thomas put his arm around her waist, his strength persevering when hers failed.
Words, if she could find any, wouldn’t have done any good. Blue knew that Ella’s soul was up in heaven. Still, being here and staring at the name Blue had prayed over and chosen offered a strange reprieve. After being in a marriage that had shamed her for grieving too long, she was now allowed to let go. Before she knew it, she was crying, wetting Thomas’s shoulder probably straight through his coat. This time, though, he didn’t shush her or tell her it would all be okay. And he certainly didn’t push her away or hide. He just absorbed all her sorrow.
In all their years of friendship, she’d never once known Thomas to cry. Not when his father left for the last time. Not when he walked away from her at prom. Not when she hand-delivered her wedding invitation and he’d seen her pregnant belly.
She’d been so ashamed. Once, at the church youth group she’d invited him to join, he’d seen her pledge to wait for marriage. Then, at the first temptation, she’d given in. Would she have married Hunter if she hadn’t gotten pregnant? Who knows? Even then, as she tried to right her wrong with the promise of a proper ceremony, hand-lettered on overpriced card stock, he was expressionless and quiet. She’d half expected him to say something—try to stop her from making another mistake. Instead, he’d only nodded.
Yes, Thomas’s emotions had always remained folded into neat squares and stacked neatly in the darkest crevice of his soul. And yet, when they got back in the Bronco in the cemetery’s lot and Blue ran her hands through her hair, she felt a bit of wetness where his face had rested as he held her.
Chapter Thirty
The afternoon sun’s light glistened across the pristine snow between their homes as Thomas escorted Blue down the one worn, tamped-down path linking their doors. His and her boot prints served as evidence of the connection tethering them. And, of course, the uneven paw prints where Molly made her nightly jaunt to comfort Blue in her sleep, then returned the next morning to Thomas’s door. But when the path converged with her parents’ driveway after the break in the fence, there was a new set of tire tracks Blue didn’t recognize. Her gaze followed them to the back bumper of a black Land Rover.
Her toes jammed into the snow, and her tightened grasp on Thomas’s arm spun him around to face her. “What’s wrong?”
“Hunter.” She nodded to the car. “Why is he here? Filming doesn’
t start for over three months.”
Worry creased Thomas’s brow while fury blazed in his eyes.
“Why don’t you go back home and let Molly out? You can still make me dinner for Valentine’s Day, and I’ll still wear a dress I have no business wearing when it’s fifteen degrees out.” She tried to dispel his clouds with a smile, but it was no use. She squared her shoulders to his, then pulled off one of her gloves. His cheek felt cold against her palm, but the touch had the desired effect as he practically melted into it. “I chose you. And I’ll continue to choose you every day.”
Blue sealed the promise with a kiss that lingered until she was sure Thomas believed her. She watched him pace back to his porch before heading into her parents’ home. She kicked off her boots in the garage and peeled off her layers prior to taking the steps to the kitchen and main living area. Before she’d even seen a human, she was ravaged by the absurd bouquet of roses crowding her parents’ kitchen table. Perfectly expensive long-stemmed red roses that Blue would never want Thomas wasting his money on even if he could afford them.
Her father met her with a hug and a whisper. “We didn’t know, either. Say the word, and I’ll grab my shotgun and run him out of here.”
“Dad, you don’t own a shotgun,” she said.
“I’ll borrow one from Chuck Matthews.”
“It’s fine. I’ve run him off once before.” She released herself from her father’s hold and approached Hunter over by the fireplace, where he was perusing Walker family pictures, which had been de-Huntered since their separation.
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