The background noise is a little garbled and I realize he’s driving. “I’m off, but I’m not going to make it before the ball drops.” His voice is tentative and maybe even a little distracted.
“Is everything okay?” I ask almost frantically as I step into the kitchen so I can hear better.
I hear a familiar voice in the background. “—not. I can’t believe you.”
My breath hitches in my throat. “Nick?”
“Yeah, well—no. It will be, though. I’m helping Bethany find Jesse.”
“Wait, what? What happened? He’s missing?” I watch the time change on the television screen. Another minute closer to the New Year. “It’s almost midnight. Did you call the police?”
There’s rustling and I hear Bethany yelling at someone in the background. “No, not yet. We think we know where he is. I’ll fill you in later, Mac. I just wanted you to know. I gotta go.”
“Call me later, Nick. Please. I want to know he’s okay.”
My thoughts are frantic, wondering what the hell a kid was doing out in the middle of the night anyway and how she could misplace him. And why the hell did she go to Nick for help?
“I will, and don’t . . . just don’t jump to any conclusion, Mac.” The sound of his voice is pained and conflicted. Nick knows me well enough to assume I’d easily go into blaming-Bethany mode. He was asking me to trust him.
So, I do. “I won’t. Please just keep me posted.”
“I will. I gotta go.”
The call drops and I stare at the screen for a minute, worrying about Jesse—about Nick. Maybe even about Bethany. I’ve seen her with Jesse; she wouldn’t be so irresponsible as to simply lose her little brother.
Heavy footsteps stop behind me. “Is everything okay?” Colton asks quietly, his breath warm and soft against my ear.
I shake my head. “Well, I hope it will be.” I turn around and meet his concerned expression, imagining Casey out on a freezing, crazy night like this. “This girl we know . . . her little brother is missing.” My chest tightens to imagine Jesse, probably scared wherever he is and maybe even alone.
Colton rubs my arms in reassurance and pulls me against him.
“Nick’s helping her find him. He said he’ll call me back when he can.”
“Is there anything we can do?” he asks, his voice low as he glances at his parents and Casey in the living room, unaware.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. But don’t say anything, I don’t want anyone else to worry.”
Colton nods. “Keep your phone on you.” He leans down and kisses my temple. “Nick’s smart—they’ll find him or he’ll figure out how.”
I nod, offering him a weak smile. “I know.” And I do, and I’m sure everything will be fine, but the fact that Nick’s the one who’s helping Bethany—that he’s once again sucked into her life in some strange way—worries me.
As minutes tick on and the clock is closer to striking midnight, I gather myself, wanting this night to be special for Colton and his parents, because he deserves it. We pour some bubbles and a smidge of cider for Casey, and we watch the ball start its descent. Casey’s excitement, the happiness that crinkles Colton’s mother’s face, brings me back to this moment of family and gratitude. I smile, genuinely, as the ball drops farther and farther.
“FOUR . . .” We count in unison. “THREE . . . TWO . . . ONE . . . HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Henry kisses my cheek and gives me a bear hug, and Cindy wraps her arms around me next, whispering a breathy “Thank you, darling” in my ear as she tries to keep her emotions at bay. “Happy New Year.”
I embrace her tighter. “Thank you for having a wonderful son.” I smile at her as we pull away. She studies me a moment and runs her hand over my hair before she squeezes my upper arm, affection and gratitude filling her eyes.
Colton steps out of an embrace with his father and meets my gaze. His blue eyes are fixed and unwavering on me as he leans down and kisses me, gently, unrushed, but containing more sentiment than I’ve ever felt—a make-your-toes-curl-and-your-heart-flutter sort of kiss. When he finally eases away, I’m breathless. “Happy New Year,” he breathes.
“Happy New Year,” I mouth, strangely unable to catch my breath.
After Colton’s parents go back to their bed and breakfast, and Nick texts me, reporting they’d found Jesse and he would fill me in later, Colton and I lie in bed. My mind is still too full for sleep and I think about how changeable things can be. Feeling a strange sense of calm, I let out a breath and finally allow myself to really unwind.
“What are you thinking about?” Colton whispers. The rumble of his voice and the reality that he’s lying behind me—that we’re an us—makes me smile.
“Life,” I finally say. “Change and how it can be so unexpected and scary at first, but somehow . . . it works itself out.”
“True.” I think I detect a hint of amusement in his voice, but he doesn’t say anything else.
The moon creeps further out of sight, the silvery light filtering through the windows moving with it. “What are you thinking about?” I whisper.
When Colton doesn’t answer, I peer over my shoulder to see if he’s fallen asleep. His eyes are open and he blinks, watching me. I turn onto my side to face him, balling my pillow up under my head, like his.
“Well?”
“I think I’m losing my mind a little,” he says. I detect a secret smile in his voice.
“Uh-oh, and why’s that?”
“Because I want to marry you.”
I pause.
He blinks. His gaze is keen but soft, and there’s no longer a smile in his expression. He’s serious.
“You what?” I breathe.
This time his cheek twitches and his mouth curves ever so slightly. “Totally insane, I know. I’m thinking about seeing a doctor.” I scowl at him and reach for another pillow to chuck at him. His hands shoot up in surrender. “I’m joking—I’m only joking,” he says with a laugh. “About the insane part.”
My chest heaves a little as I wait in uncertainty. “Only the insane part?” I ask hoarsely. As always, there are dozens of surmounting questions I’m itching to ask, and I yearn to know what thoughts are behind his shrewd, assessing gaze. He’s summing me up, gauging my reaction. Waiting for something, though I’m not sure what. There’s no coldness in his eyes now, no walls, and my heartbeat quickens as I begin to grasp how real and pivotal this moment is—that he might be serious. “Don’t you think you should—”
“Think about it more? Wait and see what happens? Don’t rush into anything?”
I nod, hesitant.
He leans into me and presses a featherlight kiss against my lips. “I’m not talking about tomorrow or next year even, but one day, Machaela Carmichael, I will marry you. I promise.” The commitment I’d wanted—his grand gesture to me. It’s more than I ever expected or even though possible. “I’m telling you now so that if I ever get struck stupid again you can remind me of this moment—of how I can’t get you out of my head; how happy you make me when you accidentally curse around Casey and how your face reddens when you do.”
“It doesn’t happen that much,” I say, but there’s no conviction. When Colton’s eyebrow lifts, a grin pulls at both corners of my mouth.
“You have your version, I have mine,” he finally says, and I can’t stop my smile from growing so wide that my cheeks hurt.
“And,” I start, considering the certainty in his words. I will marry you. “Do I get a say in this?”
Colton gives me a halfhearted shrug. “Casey made it very clear. It’s already two against one, majority rules.”
THE END
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Author’s Note
Hello again! I’m so happy you made it all the way through the story, and I hope you enjoyed reading Mac and Colton’s adventure—that you adored Casey as much as I enjoyed writing her, and that Cal, Nick, and the rest of the crew stole your heart as they often do mine. There’s something comforting in being immersed in this new series with characters I’ve created, love, and know so well; it’s like being with old friends, similar to how I felt working on The Ending Series. It’s heartening to know I’ve found that again with the Saratoga Falls crew.
Writing Mac’s story in ninety-nine-degree weather was a bit of a challenge, but as I write this letter to you now, the holidays are just around the corner and her story feels so perfect. I did realize something after writing Nothing But Trouble, though. I might have dystopian westerns, fairytales, and love stories up my sleeve for future books, but the Saratoga Falls clan, in a sense, is very much who I am. Perhaps that’s why I felt the need to write these stories now.
Sam’s story was sort of a homage to both the darker and more happier parts of my childhood—the despair and the horses, the scents of summertime and annual canoe trips. Mac’s story is almost a nostalgic revisiting of my own happily ever after—meeting my husband, the banter, and an interesting New Year together way back when. While he and I are not Mac and Colton, other than he’s a mechanic and I curse like a sailor, working at “the shop” was very much a part of who I was, who he is, and how we met. It felt natural writing this story, and I’m so happy I can finally share it with you.
Happy Reading Adventures!
Linds
P.S. If you have time, I’d be grateful if you would leave an honest review on Goodreads and/or your preferred retailer.
Prologue
New Year’s Eve
Bethany
The night is dark, the road covered in snow, and my heart thumps in time with the blinker as Nick turns onto Main Street.
“Are you all right?” His voice is tentative and breaks the charged silence that hangs in the warm air blasting from the heater—it’s thick and almost smothering in my panic, but I can’t stop shaking. I don’t think it’s because of the cold, though.
“Not really,” I rasp. “It’s twelve degrees outside and my baby brother is out there.” Alone.
My mind races with unease, but my vision is still a little hazy from too much sparkling wine. I press my eyelids closed and take a deep breath. When I blink them open, I force the night surrounding us into focus. “This is all my fault.”
I peer out at the passing streetlights and each of my panicked breaths steam up the passenger side window. I knew I shouldn’t have gone out partying tonight—I knew something like this would happen. “I shouldn’t have left him.”
“Left him?” Nick grinds out. “Left him where? Jesus, Bethany. I know you like to party, but you left him—alone?” His voice is sharp and drips with judgement, more than I can stomach right now.
“No.” I laugh bitterly. “I didn’t leave him alone. You have no idea what you’re talking about, Nick.” I glare at him, staring into his wide, hazel eyes.
“I know enough,” he says caustically, a strand of brown hair falling into his face.
“Excuse me?” I have no idea what Nick thinks he knows about me, but he’s clueless if it’s that I would ever put my brother in danger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You know nothing about me, no matter what you might think.” I shake my head, scoffing at my idiocy. “I confide in you when I’m like, twelve, and you think you have me and my life all figured out?” The words form and roll off my tongue too easily, and I’ve had too many drinks tonight to stop them. “You’re clueless, Nick, no matter what you and your perfect, preppy group of friends think. So just mind your own business.”
“Hey, I might be clueless, but I could’ve left you freaking out in the parking lot at Lick’s.” His anger is sobering, and he’s right. I have no idea what I would be doing right now if he hadn’t offered to help me.
Balling my purse strap in my hands, I force myself to calm down. The constant tug and pull between Nick and me is not something I can deal with right now. Unable to meet his eyes, I peer out the window, willing Jesse’s form to come into view.
“I told you I would help you, and I will,” Nick says, breaking the wounded silence. He rests his hand on mine. “I’m just—I’m really confused right now.” His eyes shift back to the road. “You have an AWOL brother, and I have no clue what happened,” he says more calmly, and his fingers squeeze mine reassuringly.
His touch makes me feel like I’m sixteen again. His hand is big and warm, and I can’t tear my gaze away from the way it wraps around mine. The last time he held my hand we were only kids, and even if I’m not as innocent, Nick still affects me the same way. Only, this time he smells of Old Spice and his voice is more commanding. Even now, after all these years and what’s transpired between us, I feel emboldened and want to confide in him again.
“Thank you for helping me,” I say and pull my hand away from his.
He looks at me askance. “You’re welcome, but you’re not very forthcoming with information, you know? You never have been.” It’s a light-hearted gibe that I appreciate in the tension, and I choke out a sad, pathetic laugh. All I remember from the day we first met are my tears and Nick’s infectious smile. It was comforting and pulled me in. It’s stuck with me ever since.
“I guess very little changes, despite the years,” I think aloud. “It’s exhausting, you know. Keeping it all in.”
“So, tell me what happened,” he urges.
“I don’t know what happened after I left, but I needed to get out of the house tonight. I should’ve stayed, I knew I should have, but I just . . . you don’t know what it’s like. It’s never enough, nothing is ever enough.” My voice is foreign to me, desperate like I haven’t heard it in a while, and I do everything I can to reel my frayed emotions back in and spare us both the humiliation of my impending breakdown. In spite of the alcohol in my blood and the fear clouding my mind, I have to keep it together long enough to find Jesse and get him home.
Running my fingers through my loose curls, I take a deep breath. Sweat still lingers on my skin from dancing in a drunken throng of handsy party-goers. “If I would’ve slept in just a little bit longer this morning,” I say under my breath, “none of this would’ve happened.” I would’ve missed my dad’s homecoming, as well as his disappointment, and I would’ve stayed home tonight with Jesse.
“He was supposed to be at home with my parents. I knew something was wrong when I had a missed call from my mom. My dad said something—he upset Jesse somehow. I know how it goes, even if I wasn’t there.” Shaking my head, I wonder if nothing will ever change. “I’d just stepped outside to listen to my mom’s message, when you walked out.” I eye the snow-covered sidewalks as we drive down Main Street. “I didn’t expect Jesse to have run away. Not in the middle of the night.” Not in the snow with nowhere to go.
“Are you sure he ran away?” Nick asks tentatively. “Maybe he went to a friend’s house.” The incredulity in his voice is both painstakingly sweet and maddeningly naïve. It’s just another reminder of how different Nick and I are.
“Jesse doesn’t have friends,” I explain. “Not really. He’s obsessed with movies, science, and he likes building things. He knows more pop culture trivia than anyone I know.” The awe in my voice seems to surprise him. “But, sometimes Jesse gets triggered and spirals, and he goes off on his own. It’s how he’s been acting out lately, and it’s scary as hell because an autistic eleven-year-old on his own, relatively high-functioning or not, is like a mouse running across a highway, everything is fast and scary, and . . .” My voice breaks off, and I glance at Nick. He’s frowning, staring out the windshield.
“He’s done this twice now, but he’s always gone to the ice cream shop down the street from my house. It’s familiar and safe. At this time of night—I have no idea where he would’ve gone.�
��
“Why isn’t your mom helping you look for him?” Nick almost spits out the words.
“She is,” I breathe. “I think. But she won’t find him. She doesn’t know him like I do.” It’s a sad, pathetic truth, but it’s the truth all the same. I brace my elbow on the door and watch the flurries of snow pass by the window.
“I feel like the police should be involved in this, Bethany. It’s freezing out, and if you don’t know where to look for him—”
“Let’s just check the park, and then I’ll call them, okay? Just—not yet.” I’m still living the aftermath of the last time I acted preemptively, and I’m not ready to get the authorities involved just yet. “Turn here,” I say, pointing to Beecham Street.
“You think he might be at the park?”
I stare out at the passing shadows, searching for any sign of my brother, trudging along or sitting on the curb, or even fallen down in the snow. “Jesse liked organizing Mac’s shop the other day when we were in there dropping off the Range Rover,” I say, more frantic as it hits me that, if he’s not here, he might actually be lost or in danger. “For a few days after, every time we got in the car, he asked if we were going to see Mac. He’s got it in his head that he likes the shop or her. Maybe he’ll show up there. Or—he likes to read all the info boards at the park . . . It’s all I can think of.” I breathe out my last bit of hope.
Nick’s hands tighten audibly around the leather-bound steering wheel before he lets out a despondent sigh. “If he’s not here, Bethany, we’re calling the police. We can’t search the whole town in the dark by ourselves. Especially if he’s cold and scared.”
I nod because Nick’s right, even if it’s the last thing I want to do. Glancing at the clock approaching midnight, I wipe the silent tears from my cheeks. “I know.”
I scour the shadows of Cal’s Auto, where I half expect Jesse to be standing, staring in the window at the Christmas tree’s blinking lights he seemed so taken with the other day. But he’s not there.
Saratoga Falls: The Complete Love Story Series Page 67