Breaking Her No-Dating Rule

by Amalie Berlin

  “Did it?”

  “My mom is still gone. Max can be distracted and move on from a...really awful experience by giving him a win...but...”

  “But you’re smarter than that,” she said, squeezing the dog one more time and then standing up. “When I devised this plan I pictured you crawling inside, finding your toy...and I hoped it might help you.”

  “My toy?”

  “The army man your mom used as a puppet to act out stories for you.”

  He’d never told her it was an army man. “Did you find...? Was the toy in there?”

  She smiled and unzipped her crazy snowsuit, reached inside and pulled out his army hero action figure. Something in his gut twisted as she held the toy out to him and he felt the light plastic weight of it in his hand for the first time in twenty-five years.

  “Sargent Stan.” He said the toy’s name and then stepped back to a bank of snow and sat, not feeling like his legs could support him suddenly. “Why would you even think to do this?”

  She followed and knelt before him, pulled off her dirty mittens and stuffed them into the open monstrosity she wore so she could clean Sgt. Stan’s face with her fingernail. “I know you already know what I’m going to tell you, but I think you still need to hear it.”

  He looked up from the doll at those warm brown eyes and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  “You can’t find something on the mountain that you didn’t lose on the mountain.”

  It was like talking to her in the first hours they’d met. He knew she was saying something that she felt was important, but he needed some landmarks to try and run this linguistic obstacle course. He nodded, slowly, hoping she’d elaborate.

  “I internet-stalked you.”

  He nodded again, still waiting.

  “Your mom was an emergency room doctor.”

  “Yes.” He could understand that statement.

  “And so are you.”

  He nodded.

  She added, “And you save people from the fate that befell her when she...saved you.”

  Max sensed his growing discomfort and came to sniff at his face. Anson leaned back and gently shoved the dog’s head to his lap to pet.

  Ellory added, “You lost her on the mountain. But you didn’t. She died here, but she was found, and because she was found, you were found. She had a funeral.”

  All he could do was nod.

  “She’s not here, Anson. Because you didn’t lose her on the mountain. Not really. But Sargent Stan...” She repeated the toy’s name and then laid her hand on Max’s head to pet him too. “You did lose him here. And now you have him back, and the memory of your mom doing whatever she could to make you feel better...”

  Her voice strangled at the end and she looked away long enough to swipe her cheeks. When she looked back he saw her tears had streaked the dirt and muddied her up a little. Any other woman he knew would stop and clean her face at this point, but Ellory didn’t and he suddenly knew why: dirt was natural. Like the material of her insane outfit. Natural and real, like she was.

  “I went there to find that because I feel like he’s your totem. And because I really do think that Max needed to find someone...”

  “He did.” Anson murmured, not sure how he felt about all this. Or what she meant by totem, but all he could see was his mother’s hand holding Sgt. Stan. He wished he could remember what she’d said...

  “I found something else. Something I didn’t expect. You didn’t tell me...”

  She slipped one hand into her pocket and when she pulled it out it was closed around something.

  “I told you the whole story...all that I know, at least.” He kept his eyes off the toy, it was too emotionally charged and he was barely keeping himself together. And he was afraid to look at whatever was in her hand.

  “Then it’s another piece to cobble together,” she whispered, and opened her hand and held it out to him.

  Dirt-covered and tarnished, his mother’s locket rested in her little hand.

  He couldn’t move. And when he didn’t reach out for it Ellory popped the thing open with her fingernail and showed him the portrait he knew was inside: the one of him and Mom when he’d been a spaghetti-sauce-covered monster toddler, and she’d pressed her cheek to his for a close-up picture all the same. All smiles.

  “You have her eyes.”

  He nodded, and swallowed, finally reaching for the piece of jewelry.

  “She left her totem to protect you. Before she left. The rescuers probably just didn’t see it.” She paused and then added, “You can’t control what other people do, that’s what I learned from this Jude mess. You can’t control anyone but yourself—whether they do something awful like Jude, or whether they’re true heroes like your mom. All you can control is how you respond. I get why you’re a doctor and why you and Max risk your lives for others.” She stood and backed away from him, focusing on getting her dirty mittens back on, so he almost missed it when she whispered, “She’d be proud of you.”

  His mother would be proud of him, something he had heard from other people in his life, but had never believed. But when Ellory said it...he did believe it. And he suddenly wished he had something he could say to her that would help. He’d been so focused on Jude and Chelsea, on how the search had made him feel, he had neglected tending her in the way she tended him... She was still hurting. He’d done nothing to diminish it.

  “I wouldn’t try to clean it too much,” she said, breaking through his thoughts. “The picture is fragile, and any chemicals that would remove the tarnish would probably ruin the photo. Plus...”

  “Dirt is natural?” he asked, teasing a little.

  “It is, but I was going to say...maybe there’s still a trace of her. Even a particle. Maybe even protected by the tarnish.” And then she shrugged, and turned toward the tree line and slogged off through the snow. “Which is also natural. Tarnish... Or you could ignore me.”

  “Doubtful.” He closed the locket, unzipped his suit and stashed the precious cargo in an interior pocket. “Where are you going?” He zipped back up and stood to follow her.

  “Lodge.” She reached the trees and turned up the hill, using them like posts to help pull herself up through the snow. “It’s cold.”

  And she was wearing the world’s most ridiculous snowsuit. “Is it wet?” he asked, hurrying to catch up to her so he could link elbows and they could pull up the steep slope together.

  “Yep. It doesn’t hold water out as well as...” She looked at his face and stopped speaking, probably noticing how displeased he was with this little tidbit. Out in the cold, freezing for his benefit...

  He let the silence go on between them for a few minutes before asking, “Are your feet cold?”

  “My feet are fairly warm. Not wet, three pairs of wool socks. Boots two sizes too big.”

  When they’d made it far enough up the slope to reach the snowmobiles, she pulled away from him and climbed on hers. She waved a mittened hand at him and called, “Take care of yourself and Max,” then turned around and zoomed across the slope, heading back for the lodge and leaving Anson to try and catch his breath.

  His chest ached, though not from exertion or even from his cracked ribs.

  Her farewell had sounded an awful lot like goodbye.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “SHE LEFT.”

  Anson stood in the doorway of Miranda Dupris’s office, staring at the woman. “What do you mean, she left?”

  “I mean she isn’t here any more. She doesn’t work at the lodge any more. I told her we’d be happy to have her here for the whole year, guests don’t just get hurt when skiing, but you and I both know that as much as she loved being here, she has her code and that code requires space.” She paused and looked at him. “As well as no central heating. She’s been making small changes, but she’s still very against central heating.”

  Okay, so it had taken him a couple of weeks to figure his life out, what he wanted versus what he did. But h
e hadn’t expected her to run away in the meantime. Winter wasn’t even over yet. “Did she go back to Peru?”

  She could be anywhere!

  Mira shook her head.

  “Do you know how to contact her?”

  “Of course I do.”

  Best friend, guardian at the gate, torturing the guy who’d hurt her best friend. Right. He deserved that. “Will you call her, please?” He tried some honey, because what he really wanted to do was hose the woman down in vinegar. And shake her.

  “What do you want to say to her?”

  Definitely shake her. Except if he was going to be part of Ellory’s life, he couldn’t go shaking her best friend. And they obviously stuck together. Tight.

  “I don’t need to be vetted before you’ll let me talk to her. Trust me.”

  “You hurt her,” Mira said, and then sat down at her desk, hands linked as she fixed him with an unrelenting stare.

  Anson sighed, closed the door and went to sit down.

  If he had to jump through hoops to reach Ellory, it was his own damned fault. “I did.”

  “You don’t understand, you made her break her resolution and then you hurt her on top of that.”

  “I understand. Believe me.” He had to say something to convince her. “I don’t know if she will want to take me back, but I have to talk to her even if it’s just to tell her one thing. And if I have to go all the way to Patagonia to do it, I will go all the way to Patagonia.”

  Mira said nothing, just watched him.

  “I love her, Mira.”

  “Is that what you want to say?”

  “That, and I want to tell her something about her father.”

  She sat up straighter, brows surging to her hairline. “Did you go see him?”

  “Yes, I did,” Anson answered, then frowned, “After I told him what I’d come to tell him, he refused to tell me where she was. I didn’t expect him to know, I just wanted to highlight this fact in a completely obnoxious manner.”

  An hour later, after he’d relayed a blow-by-blow account of his meeting with Ellory’s parents, Anson left with a Main Street address in hand and the urge to shake Mira again.

  He’d spent the whole time thinking Ellory had left the country, and she was just in town.

  *

  A brass bell at the top of the main door rang and Ellory popped her head round the corner from the back room. “We’re not open for business yet,” she called, but all other words died in her throat. Anson stood in the doorway wearing actual clothes, nothing orange in sight.

  Jeans that fit his muscled frame well. A worn leather jacket hung open, revealing a flannel button-down over a navy thermal top.

  He’d shaved.

  His hair was combed back and not hidden beneath a knit cap.

  And he had a plant with him.

  Max, his perpetual companion, didn’t stand on ceremony and obviously didn’t feel any of the awkwardness the humans felt. He danced around the counter in that happy wagging-tail way of his to greet her.

  Ellory greeted Max before he destroyed the place with his big swinging tail.

  “Max,” Anson grunted, “You’re stealing the show, buddy. Go lie down.” He snapped his fingers and pointed to the fire, which was enough. The big black Newfoundland all but pranced over and flopped onto the old worn wood floor of the building Ellory had leased from Mira.

  Her heart in her throat, Ellory looked back at the man, and only then realized she should say something. “Thank you. For the...the...spa-warming gift.”

  “I wanted to get flowers but apparently you can’t buy flowers that are locally sourced in winter.” He approached the counter and thrust the potted fern at her.

  She took the pot, careful not to accidentally touch the man, and set it on the counter. “It’s really nice. Reminds me of the rainforest. Besides, cut flowers just die anyway. Nice of you to bring it by.”

  “I actually don’t have any clue if the plant is a viable substitute... You’re supposed to bring flowers when you apologize to the woman you love.”

  No preamble. He just laid it out there so boldly that her mind went blank.

  “You can’t control what other people do, right? That’s what you said. You can’t control what other people do...or think or anything. Just you, how you react.”

  “Right,” she whispered, her hands starting to shake. The blasted bracelets jangled, and he noticed.

  Before she could hide her hands, Anson reached out and took both of them, his thumbs on top to stroke the backs of her hands. “I visited your father.”

  “Oh, no... Did you hit him?”

  “No. I wanted to, but he’s a miserable old cuss, and nothing I can do will ever change that.” He said the words slowly, like she hadn’t already come to that conclusion on the mountain.

  “I know that now. And I hate to say it, but Jude taught me that lesson.”

  He nodded, seeking her gaze and holding it for the space of several heartbeats. She loved his eyes...

  “That’s why you left us? So I could figure everything out? It wasn’t because you stopped loving us?”

  Us. She knew he meant him and Max, not the two of them as a couple, but it was still cute how he was hiding in language a little bit.

  “I never said I loved you.” Having her hands in his gave her the confidence to torment him a little. It had been at least twelve years since she’d seen him on the mountain...a couple of weeks ago. Twelve really long years.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “No, I didn’t. I definitely never said that.”

  He shook his head, looking at her like she was crazy. “You did too.”

  “I never ever said that to anyone but my parents and Mira. Never. Not once.”

  “Well, I heard you say it.” He let go of her hands suddenly and reached across the counter, his hands folding over her shoulders to pull her toward him as he leaned in to meet her. No working up to it, no flirting and coyness, he just kissed her like a starving man, like it was all he could do to keep from dragging her across the counter into his arms.

  She did it for him. Ellory’s arms stole around his shoulders and she hooked one knee on the counter to climb over. Warm hands slid to her waist and he helped drag her to the front with him, and right onto the floor, only deepening the kiss when he got her well and truly plastered against him.

  By the time he came up for air the worried look she’d seen in his eyes was gone, and he smiled. “And there you said it again.”

  “Did not.” She grabbed his head and pulled him back down, not caring at all whoever happened to walk by the big glass windows on the old general store she was converting, and that they might see them making out.

  Though she was really glad that she’d taken several days to clean and restore the hardwood floors with lemons and beeswax. Which reminded her...kissing and making out hadn’t been their problem. They were really good at that.

  “Say it,” he grumbled. “I know you love me. You might as well admit it.”

  Ellory sighed and then nodded. “I love you. But that doesn’t mean we’re compatible.”

  He snorted softly. “Are you and Mira compatible?”

  “Of course we are.”

  “You’re totally different. And you still fit together. You and I? We’re not that different, and we fit together. I can prove it.”

  “You cannot prove it.”

  “Things you’d do to improve the house and property—greenhouse, doghouse, solar panels everywhere, and a thermal well into the earth to get the heat without a drop of carbon in the atmosphere. How am I doing?”

  She laughed up at him. “Proud that you figured that out? It’s pretty obvious.”

  “I’m a smart guy, what can I say?”

  “I can’t really tell you if I like your little house or not. You never let me inside, smart guy.”

  “Okay, yes, I have made some mistakes. But you will love it, as much as you love me and Max.”

  “But I still never said that.�
�

  “Everything about you says it. Mira said you moved out of the lodge. Where are you living?”

  She pointed up at the ceiling.

  “Above the shop?”

  A nod. “Spa.”

  “Is it furnished?”

  “Mmm it has a futon...and a fridge. And a pot-bellied stove.”

  Because she hated central heating.

  “What made you decide to stay?”

  “What I realized in your cave.” She started to look a little nervous then, and chewed her lip which made him want to kiss her some more.

  “About my mom?”

  “Sort of.” She started wriggling to get out from under him, but Anson knew better than to let her get away again.

  “Look at me. I just told you I love you. What can you possibly be afraid of?”

  “You don’t know how successful I’ve been with wrangling my compulsions.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m about half as obnoxious as I was.” Ellory said, shrugging. “It’s not going to happen overnight, and I don’t want to just become whatever you want me to be. I want to be what I want to be, and I need some time to figure that out.”

  “Okay. If you want to wait, I can wait.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “So is this a grocery?”

  “Do you see fresh fruit? It’s a spa, maybe a wellness center. There will be some natural remedies available, oils and decoctions for different common ailments—like muscle soreness, and the respiratory flush we used on our patient guests. And some other natural stuff. Like deodorants without propylene glycol and other bad chemicals. Meditation, yoga, and primarily treatments.”

  “Treatments?”

  “Massage therapy...remember? And with Mira’s old contacts there are a few serious ski competitors who will likely be bringing their physio orders here.”

  “How have the epiphanies affected your stance on children?”

  She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again, her shoulders creeping up.

  “You don’t know?”

  “I didn’t want to think about it,” she confirmed, though with less energy than she’d spoken with up to that point.