Had they ever had a spark? She couldn’t be sure. As exciting as those few moments had been when they first met, they seemed bland in hindsight.
Matt silently took her hands and stroked the tops with his thumbs. She thought of the first time he held her hand. They’d been out on the boardwalk along the Fountain Paint Pot. She’d tripped, and he thought she was about to fall through the thin crust into the scalding water below. Or maybe he used that as an excuse to take her hand; she still wasn’t sure. But he didn’t release it for the next hour. Feeling her hand in his, as simple as that had been, was the closest thing to bliss she’d ever experienced.
Had he run his thumb over the top of her hand then, too? She couldn’t remember.
Their first kiss had been special. It had definitely meant something, and it warmed her to her toes. But it didn’t take place anywhere exciting or memorable, just on the tailgate of his truck somewhere in the park.
Their kisses had mostly turned into mostly pecks of hello and goodnight, with none of the warm butterflies flying in mad circles in her stomach like before.
She and Matt had grown comfortable like an old couple who used walkers to get around. Comfortable was nice, in a way. Probably inevitable. When you were ninety, did you really want to risk a heart attack by having youthful passion rushing through your veins? She was in her mid-twenties. Couldn’t there be a middle ground between the excitement of a new relationship and the boring sameness of comfortable?
Matt released her hands and faced the geyser, resting his forearms on his legs as before. This time, his hands were clasped so tightly his knuckles turned white. Every few seconds, he released and clasped them the other way — a habit that meant he was thinking hard.
She wanted to slip her arm around his again, but the muscles in his arm had gone tight. His whole body felt so rigid. He was probably mad. He was feeling some strong emotion, clearly. But what, beyond being troubled? Hurt? Would he break up with her right now, then storm off to his car?
No, that kind of behavior wasn’t in him. If he broke things off, he’d still make sure she got to her car safely. He’d probably watch her drive away, too. That’s who he was. Even after telling her that it was over, Matt would always be a gentleman. But he’d do those things for any woman, not because he loved her.
That fact maddened her even more. Couldn’t he let out emotion? Did he always have to be mellow and quiet? Was Matt capable of feeling any intense emotion?
Steam rose from Old Faithful’s opening, growing thicker and thicker, with occasional signs of water burbling here and there as a prelude to the eruption. Cassie turned to face the geyser too. She leaned forward, unconsciously mimicking Matt’s posture, and waited for him to say something. She didn’t dare say more; she’d probably said too much.
What felt like an eon passed. The water spurted, first three feet, then six, then nine, into the air. Before it went any higher, Matt stood and nodded toward the parking lot. “Let’s get you to your car.”
He didn’t reach for her; instead he slipped both hands into his pockets. She felt the loss of his touch like a physical ache. He stood only two feet away, but the park’s thousands of square miles might as well have separated them. He took a few steps backward as if confirming the distance.
I probably deserve that, she thought. She’d said hurtful things — honest things, but painful ones nonetheless. If I could take them back, would I? She didn’t know.
She followed him across the lot. At her car, she handed him his jacket and, as usual, he opened her door. She paused before getting inside, expecting his typical chaste peck on the lips. He didn’t offer one. He didn’t say “Love ya,” either, not even in the casual way that had made her wonder if he meant it.
He lowered his eyes, and she climbed in. Without a word, he closed the door. With nothing else to do, she started her car. As she pulled away, she kept looking at her rearview mirror, hoping to see what she had a thousand times — Matt with his hand raised in a wave.
She didn’t see it. He watched her drive off, jacket draped over one arm, the other hand back in his pocket.
Something seemed to be cutting off her air supply. Her heart raced, and not in the delicious way she’d dreamed of earlier. She gripped the steering wheel and replayed the last few minutes over and over again.
What did I just do? Maybe her actions would lead to the kind of relationship she wanted.
Or maybe I blasted my boyfriend right out of my life.
Chapter Four
Matt stared at the winding forest road long after Cassie’s car had disappeared into the trees. Heartsick and confused, he couldn’t move.
Had he lost Cassie? What had he done wrong? More like, what hadn’t he done right? What did she want?
A song, apparently, he thought. But that was only the tip.
Conflicting emotions warred inside him. On the one hand, anger tried rearing its head. He’d done nothing wrong. He’d always been faithful and good to Cassie. He’d been nothing but a gentleman, always making sure she was safe, regularly taking her out. The greater Yellowstone area wasn’t one that had a lot of potential for fancy, expensive dates, but he’d thought they’d made the most out of it — hiking, fishing, boating, and camping together.
What more did she want? Romance, apparently. But what does that even mean? I’m a guy. Guys don’t always think in terms of “romance.” And I can’t read her mind. If she’d felt like this for a while now, why hadn’t she said anything?
This whole thing could be just a passing phase. If Cassie’s old friends had brought up the problem, then after they left, everything could return to normal. If not, he’d probably lose her forever. Then again, they’d been in a relationship for a long time. Why hadn’t he made things move forward?
A bit of shame settled on his shoulders as he realized the answer: He’d been comfortable with the way things were, and he hated taking risks. The result was that he’d taken her for granted. He hadn’t needed to make any kind of move, so he never had to risk getting hurt. In taking the easy, slow — careful — way, he’d put himself in a position to lose the one woman he loved.
A heaviness settled in his middle. Cassie was his soul mate, the woman he loved more than he loved himself. He’d do anything for her, any time, any place. He knew that now.
He’d already done a lot for her, things he’d thought had been meaningful. Like the time he’d fixed her washing machine when getting a repairman to come out to do it would have cost twice what the machine was worth.
Or the time she broke her foot on a hike. When the group she was with radioed for help, he went to find her and then carried her out. He stayed by her side and drove her home and gave her pain medication, tracking the times and doses, knowing she was too loopy to remember. He made sure her casted foot was elevated. He cooked dinner, tucked her into a warm bed, and contacted her mother in Washington State. In fact, he didn’t leave Cassie’s side until her mother showed up the next morning after driving all night.
Standing in the empty parking lot, Matt sighed. None of that stuff mattered if he didn’t have the guts to be the kind of man she wanted him to be. But he liked taking his time, and he didn’t want to mess up a good thing. He scuffed his boots on the asphalt, sending tiny pebbles skittering. Finally, he turned around and got into his truck to drive to his quarters in the park.
Why had things changed, and how could he fix them going forward?
He pictured the first time he noticed Cassie — it was her first day on the job. Her hair had been pulled back in a cute ponytail. She’d always been pretty in a fresh, natural way. She didn’t always wear makeup, and when she did, it was only enough to accentuate her features without looking like she was layering it on or trying to be someone else.
They often spent many hours together fishing in Henry’s Lake or feeding the huge fish below the bridge at Big Springs, always visiting in the early morning hours to avoid the crowds. They’d gone on hikes, sometimes leaving before dawn, so they could
watch the sunrise side by side. Those things seemed plenty romantic, he thought. I guess I was kidding myself.
Memories of when he first asked her out, held her hand, and kissed her all rushed into his mind like the tide. He could have sworn that she’d blushed that day at the Fountain Paint Pot when he saved her from falling. And their first kiss had been under a twilight sky. Her breath had sped up. He remembered because his had, too.
Were those feelings real? Or was he fooling himself?
He tried to focus on the road. The truck’s headlights cut through the darkness, lighting only enough of the road to wind his way through the trees. Finally, he reached the cabin where he lived during the summer months. But after parking, he wanted to turn around and drive to Cassie’s place, even if it would take over an hour to get there. Then he could take her into his arms and kiss her good and long.
No, he thought. She needs her space. He killed the engine and sat in the truck, staring into the darkness beyond the windshield. The again, would going over in the middle of the night be the kind of romantic gesture she’d appreciate?
In frustration, he shook his head and slammed the steering wheel with one fist. What am I supposed to do? I have no idea. Unless…
He slowly got out of the truck and let an idea crystallize in his mind. If Andrea and Tammy had firsthand experience with what Cassie considered to be romantic, then it was time to go to the most reliable source he knew about what Cassie would want, and then give it to her.
I hope it’s not too late. That she’ll give me another chance.
He unlocked his door and walked straight to his laptop on the desk in the corner. Cassie had mentioned creating a Facebook profile at her friends’ urging. He’d log on and try to contact both Andrea and Tammy. With any luck, he’d have an entire battle plan ready to go by morning.
He found Tammy’s and Andrea’s profiles easily through Cassie’s. Then he sent them both messages, identifying himself, and soon the three of them had a group message thread going. The bulk of the conversation consisted of the two women typing out romantic ideas while Matt made notes, answered questions, and asked a few of his own. He was so focused on finding out how to fix things with Cassie that he didn’t realize how hungry he was until his stomach growled. He shrugged it off; he could always heat up leftovers later.
Tammy and Andrea seemed to have an unending supply of “perfectly romantic” things he could do, along with an unending stream of virtual swoons and a profuse use of emoticons. He opened a file on his laptop where he copied and pasted from the thread, so he wouldn’t forget exactly how they’d phrased things.
As he waited for them to type more, he studied what they’d already said and tried to figure out how to make things on the list happen here, far from any metropolitan area. Nothing like Broadway shows or sites like the Space Needle existed anywhere nearby.
At one point, Andrea asked how they could live without a Target. They probably thought his life resembled Jim Bridger’s — if they even knew who he was.
Eventually, both women signed off, and Matt heated up a frozen dinner. He settled in to eat and plan. In one sense, Cassie was right; he had taken her for granted and let their relationship coast.
It was past time to ask for her hand. He loved her more than anything and couldn’t imagine his life without her. He pictured saying goodbye to her again mid-August as she returned to her teaching job, and something inside him ached. No. He didn’t want to do that again. He wanted to be with her every day, forever.
And that meant acting quickly to fix what he’d messed up. It also meant proposing in either a big, private way, or a big, public way. Either way, it had to be big.
Something told him that she would prefer the big proposal to be public. The thought was enough to make him feel as if he were breaking out in hives. Personally, he preferred to keep something that special private. But if Cassie needed a public declaration, that’s what she would get, even if it made him feel like he needed an EpiPen afterward. He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head, hating the idea but knowing that to have any shot at keeping Cassie in his life permanently, that was the price he would pay.
But what can I do up here in the middle of nowhere?
On Andrea’s recommendation, he opened a spiral notebook and began two lists: one of possible songs he could finagle into being played during their dates, so one of them could become their song, and the other of romantic movies Andrea and Tammy assigned him to watch.
The first movie was Fifty First Dates. Matt had a hard time believing that Adam Sandler could be romantic, although they insisted that he was in that one as well as in The Wedding Singer. Next came Music and Lyrics, When in Rome, and a few older ones, like Can’t Buy Me Love, from the ’90s, and An Affair to Remember, which was far older. Tammy assured him that that one was a must-see because of Cary Grant, who was “utterly swoon worthy.”
You’ll understand Cass so much better after you watch them, she typed out, and Andrea heartily agreed, adding a row of exclamation points and another of heart emojis.
He took their word for it. He studied both lists and decided to refer back to the women’s profiles to see if he could glean anything else to help him understand Cassie a bit better.
He ended up scrolling through years of status updates, pictures, and events. He found at least a dozen shared Tom Hiddleston memes, which told him that the actor was probably considered “swoon worthy” too. Whatever attracts women to the guy, I probably don’t have it, Matt thought. Especially if a British accent has anything to do with it.
He scrolled past pictures of both Andrea and Tammy at bars with men — lots of men, in lots of pictures, and rarely the same men. Some pictures had both women. Others had one or the other. They had an awful lot of pictures taken in bars. No wonder Cassie didn’t see them much; she lived a very different lifestyle.
Andrea’s relationship status was listed as “engaged.” He found plenty of photographic evidence of a hunky fiancé, including several images of the very proposal that had sent Cassie spiraling. What exactly had that guy done, in what way, and in front of how many people, to achieve the right effect?
He clicked around some more and learned that Andrea had two previous marriages, and a child from each. Oddly, she didn’t seem to have any kind of custody arrangements to see them, and from what he could tell, she lived five states away from them. Maybe she had a good reason for not living near them — or, apparently, seeing them much beyond an annual visit — something referred to in several photos.
A summer visit with young children didn’t seem likely nearly enough. He couldn’t imagine Cassie being okay with being apart from her future children for more than a few days. The people she loved were simply part of who she was. That was one of the things he loved about her; she was so bound to loved ones that he often joked that devotion was her superpower.
No wonder Andrea and Cassie had drifted apart; they were nothing alike, not really, except for the fact that Cassie now had her heart set on romance. Matt wanted to earn the forever kind of devotion Cassie was capable of. And he knew — knew — that when Cassie decided to make a commitment to a man, it would be for life.
I want to be that man.
He left Andrea’s profile and began looking through Tammy’s. A few seconds of scrolling told him that she didn’t exactly have a happily-ever-after life either. For one thing, she listed herself as engaged, but her supposed fiancé’s status didn’t even say he was in a relationship. Until tonight, Cassie hadn’t been on Facebook, but Matt’s status had long read “in a relationship.” He had a sudden urge to be able to change it to “engaged.”
A look through Tammy’s pictures showed several he’d already seen on Andrea’s page. But he found several apparent past boyfriends, and the date stamps made Tammy’s life look like a revolving door of beaux. A photo with the caption “our first date!” showing the new fiancé was taken only four months ago. He scrolled back and counted to be sure. Yep, Tammy had had thr
ee serious boyfriends in the last year.
She’s nothing like Cassie.
Why did these two women with party lifestyles and no clear evidence of successful relationships have such a powerful influence on Cassie?
He eventually found a picture of the three friends, and his eyes immediately landed on Cassie’s wide smile — the one that showed her teeth. Her eyes that seemed bright and happy. When was the last time he’d seen that smile?
Matt raked both hands through his hair again. He closed the laptop and went to get ready for bed. Thoughts of Cassie and her friends stayed with him as he brushed his teeth. Now that he had a peek into their lives, he didn’t trust their judgment any more than he could outrun a black bear. Yet something was off. Cassie was unhappy.
Even if Andrea and Tammy were totally off their rockers — and he was willing to put money on the fact that they were — Cassie needed something more than what he’d been giving her.
Matt stared at his reflection in the mirror, thinking back on their relationship.
Cassie is right about one thing, he thought. I haven’t worked at being a good boyfriend in far too long. She deserves more.
His pulse pounded with intent and a sliver of hope that he could fix this. He wiped his face then headed out of the bathroom and to the couch. He grabbed the remote and stabbed the buttons, searching for romantic movies. He scrolled through titles until he saw one he recognized from the list, Pride and Prejudice. He stopped to confirm that it was the correct version; Andrea had insisted that Colin Firth had to play Mr. Darcy, or it didn’t count.
He hit play and settled in to watch and learn. He’d spend all night watching movies if that’s what it took to understand the love of his life and win her back. Matt settled in to watch and learn.
Love Far from Home Box Set Page 8