Charlee swallowed, mouth going dry and thirsty. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to erase the image, but it wouldn’t go. Couldn’t go. It was her answer. It would ease the pain. Her breath came in short gasps and spurts as she started the Jeep, a plan forming in her head as if she were on autopilot. No one would know. No one had to know anything yet and besides, it was none of their business. She could slip away for a few hours. Not days. Just a few hours and no one would know because they didn’t know about Mr. Gruber.
She pressed the clutch, ready to make her escape, ready to go, to run. But only for a little while this time, not for long. And wasn’t that progress? She let the clutch out too quickly and the Jeep bucked and died. Feverish now, she reached to the ignition switch but stopped abruptly. Her hand, slick with sweat, was shaking. Her fingers trembling. And Charlee was reminded of Mr. Gruber a long time ago telling her that he’d get the shakes when he was drinking. His body would quake almost as if he were in withdrawal.
Charlee stared at her fingers, willing them to calm. Then, she tilted the rearview mirror and looked at herself. There was desperation in her eyes. Weakness, a frightened child trying to run. She wanted to look away, but wouldn’t allow herself to do so. For a long time she stared at the person in the mirror, and the words of her father’s last journal entry floated through her mind.
I met a man this morning whose eyes were filled with regret. I stared at him for a long time, and as the suffering became too great, I took a long look at my own life. Charlee, you don’t know the depths of the power within you. You only have to reach and it’s there. I met a man with regrets. I looked into his eyes and my own world was mirrored back at me. Charlee, don’t end up like me. You’re like your mother and she was so much stronger than I could ever be. I love you, Charlee. Whatever obstacles may be in your path, you have the power to destroy them. I met a man this morning with regrets. But I closed my eyes and the image in the mirror disappeared. In the darkness, I saw your face. And you became my light. I am a man with regrets, but I’m also a man with hope. Charlee, find the way.
She squeezed her eyes shut, looking for the image in the dark. Charlee let the silence inside the car surround her, absorb her. It was quiet. Like it had been earlier when Wynona held her hand. Unearthly quiet. Silence that promised peace. Rest. A long exhale escaped her lips, its hissing sound soothing, cutting through all the voices and all the noise. There, in the dark, an image took shape. Charlee’s heart jumped. As darkness became one tiny pinprick of light, she could make out a face. Her light. Her hope.
Her answer.
Charlee’s eyes snapped open. She knew what she needed to do. One quick stop at the retreat to grab the supplies she needed—she avoided everyone there—and now, she was on her way.
“Not running,” she whispered to herself as she drove. “This isn’t running.”
With a mixed cassette of nineties country tunes, Charlee drove out of her past and into her future.
CHAPTER 19
After Charlee called Rosy to find out where Ian would be, she drove straight to the construction site. She first spotted him as she whipped the Jeep onto the narrow street. Ian was standing on the skeleton roof of a building at the end of the block. Her heart leapt when she saw him, then excitement turned to horror because he wasn’t harnessed to anything. When she downshifted, he cast a look in her direction, the sun glinting off the yellow hardhat on his head. He raised a hand to shade his eyes—as if not really believing the image.
The road was paved, but littered with dust and bits of gravel from the construction site. Charlee couldn’t stop the smile on her face. It appeared, big enough to cause her cheeks to ache, and when Ian hurried to the extension ladder and descended, the smile grew even bigger. Her lungs wouldn’t fill. He looked amazing. Just amazing. More so than she even remembered. T-shirt, jeans, work boots. He was perfect.
Something to the right caught her attention. She dragged her gaze from Ian to find someone . . . some woman . . . walking toward him, a lunch box in her hands.
Charlee’s lungs squeezed out all the air. Brenna. Brenna was hurrying to him, oblivious to Charlee and the Jeep and the fact that, excuse me, this is the man I love. Charlee’s gaze went from the sashaying Brenna to Ian. Had he actually been coming down the ladder for her? Had he even seen Charlee driving up? Oh God, I’m going to throw up. Please help me not throw up.
When Brenna got to Ian first, he placed his hands on her arms. Charlee wanted to close her eyes, but train wrecks and all that. The coffee in her stomach roiled. Ian was talking, fast, a hundred miles an hour. Then he pointed toward the Jeep. Brenna’s mouth dropped open. The lunch box dropped to the ground. And Charlee’s heart dropped into her stomach.
Two steps and Ian was running toward her. She couldn’t move. Stunned. Her feet wouldn’t work. All her energy was going into figuring out what Brenna was doing there. It had only been three weeks.
Ian flung the door open and snatched her from inside. She drifted along, easily; there were no more bones in her body to hold her steadfast. He smelled like sweat and man and hard work and oh Lord, she’d missed that. Arms closed around her, but she was still a puddle of goo. Words came at her. She needed to key into them. What was wrong with her?
And then, someone else was there. Right in the middle of their moment.
Brenna. All the haze and all the confusion cleared in one quick shot of jealousy. Charlee’s gaze narrowed on Ian. His eyes darted to Brenna, giving her a warning look. What the heck did that mean?
Brenna cocked her hip, opened her mouth to speak, but Charlee cut her off. “Don’t.” Charlee lifted a hand. “Unless you’re wearing his engagement ring, don’t say a word to me.”
Brenna closed her mouth, but the warning was there, in her eyes, flying off her body.
Ian held both his hands tightly around Charlee’s forearms. Maybe excited to see her, maybe just keeping her from running away.
But the attention made Charlee bold and whatever was going on between Ian and Brenna—or whatever had gone on between Ian and Brenna—wasn’t what mattered to him. This she knew because as he’d neared her, his eyes lit with the same fire, the same love hers had when she saw him. Charlee cut a look to Brenna. “Are you?”
She frowned.
“Wearing his ring?”
Brenna’s nostrils flared, eyes flames on Charlee. “No.”
“Then, this is my man—if he’ll still have me—and if you ever come near him again, I’ll skin you like a hog.”
Brenna’s quick intake of air was accompanied by a look to Ian—Aren’t you going to defend me? it said. But he just smirked, slid an arm around Charlee, and shrugged. “You heard her. Believe me, I know this woman. She’ll do it. She’s got the tools.”
Brenna stormed off and Charlee was ready and willing to watch every step of her retreat, but she couldn’t. Ian. He was all in her face, eyes filled, those beautiful eyes so filled with so many emotions she couldn’t begin to name them.
“You’re here.” He squeezed her arms as if not really believing his senses.
“Will you still have me? I love you, Ian. I love you so much.”
Through his joy, his eyes narrowed. “I thought I could live without you. I was wrong.”
“You could have come back, you know?” Her hands closed over his arms, both of them holding the other up.
His smile faded. “I couldn’t. I made a promise to you and your father.”
She moved to stand closer to him. “I know you did.”
“And that’s why you’re here now?” There was so much hope in his voice, she could only laugh, nod. Laugh again.
His hands found their way to her face, then her hair, and she drank him in—the feel of his sun-heated flesh on her skin, the smell of pure man and pure love. “I’m sorry about Brenna. She’s been hanging around the jobsite for the last week. I told her there was nothing between us an
d there couldn’t be—”
Charlee shut him up by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Big mistake. He trapped her there, mouth opening, body angling to meet her more fully, to pin her against his torso and legs. And . . . oh, she was lost. His muscles were full and tight from work, his lips and tongue danced over her mouth, and, for a few hot seconds, there was no one in the world but them. When the catcalls became loud, Charlee broke the kiss. Her lips were swollen and rough from his whiskers and it felt incredible and tingly and alive. Her body was alive when Ian Carlisle was around. Gloriously and unashamedly alive. And right now all she wanted to do was get him alone.
She shook her head to clear it and had to take an excruciating step away from him. There was business to tend to, after all. They couldn’t be standing around sucking face while there were important items to discuss.
She reached into the back of the Jeep. “You forgot your paintings.”
Ian’s fingers reached for her as if not wanting her out of arms’ reach. To keep from grabbing her again, he closed his hands into fists. “And you’re returning them?”
She nodded. “Here’s the one Mr. Gruber painted and here’s the one I painted.”
When she pulled the painting of the big red splotch titled Blue from the wrap, he frowned. “You painted this one?”
She nodded. “Yes. And you chose to keep it in your cabin, proving you have excellent taste.”
“I chose you too.” He came at her, crushing the painting between them.
She cast a glance skyward. “Proving we can all be misguided at times.” With great effort, she pushed him away.
He took the painting of the red splotch from her and stared at it. “Will you do another one for me one day?”
She reached into the back of the Jeep again. “I already did.” When she pulled out the painting, it was a black canvas.
“Let me guess. You call it White.”
“No. I call it Life Without Ian.” Charlee lowered the canvas and rested it against the Jeep’s tire. “That’s what my world is without you. It’s just a big, dark, empty hole.”
He took a step closer, setting Blue with the other canvas. “Yeah, know the feeling.”
“Ian, I have to tell you something.” And before she could stop herself, she dove into the story about Mr. Gruber and his new lease on life and his daughter. And the doctor. And his death sentence.
Ian crushed her against him. “I’m so sorry, Charlee. He should never have come to you with that first.”
“He meant well,” she mumbled into his chest.
He tilted her out to look at him. “What did you do?”
“I ran. To you.”
On his exhale, he pulled her back into his arms.
“You were wrong, Ian. It isn’t all in me. I needed a source to draw from and I found it.”
Again, he looked into her eyes.
“My dad. And you. You gave me the strength to stop that frightened little girl inside. I’m not going to run. Not now. Not ever. Fear isn’t going to rule my life anymore. I’m free. And I swear to you, I’ll never run again.”
There were kisses that touched her heart and there were kisses that made her feel loved, but this kiss was something else, something different. It was the world and the universe; it spun the stars away from her and anchored her feet to the crumbling earth. It both lifted and dragged her. High and deep. And in all the times Charlee had been kissed in her life, she’d never felt anything like it. It was the future. It was a white picket fence and a toddler hugging her leg. It was a Fourth of July display and a quiet, snow-covered Christmas morning. It was life and it was good.
And if she had her way, it would be the first of many. When Charlee opened her eyes to look at Ian, it was as if she’d already lived that life. Her heart was content, her mind at peace, and if she lived to be a hundred, she figured there would never be a moment more precious than this one.
Until he said the next few words.
“Charlee, will you marry me?”
And the whole amazing series of emotions began again.
Charlee sat at the edge of Mr. Gruber’s bed. He’d be released later today, but she’d taken on the job of explaining about his heart and the condition that could kill him. Ian sat beside her, holding her hand, and Wes Giles stood in the far corner of the room to answer questions. Wynona was on the other side of Gruber’s bed, hand on his shoulder. Charlee had already told Wynona.
The crusty, loveable old man stayed quiet for a long time after she explained. The muscles around his mouth ticked. Then his watery blue eyes drifted up to hers. “Is that all?”
What? Charlee leaned toward him. Maybe he hadn’t understood. “Uh, yes. Mr. Gruber, isn’t that enough?”
He reached back and squeezed Wynona’s hand. “It’s no surprise that an old man is going to die one day.”
Charlee repositioned herself, gearing up to explain.
His upturned hand stopped her. “I’m old, Charlee.”
Something hit her solidly in the chest.
“If I die tomorrow, I die tomorrow.”
Charlee closed her eyes, shutting out the thought.
Gruber turned to face Dr. Giles. “But you don’t know how long I’ll live, right? ’Cause you’re just practicing.”
Jokes, Mr. Gruber was making jokes. Charlee tried to wrap her head around it.
Wes took a step toward the bed. “There’s no way to determine. And yes, I’m just practicing.”
Wynona cleared her throat. “Charlee, dear, I think what Arnold is saying is that life is a gift every day. No one knows the number of his days, but we have charge over the quality of the days we’re given.”
Gruber ran a hand over his face. “I’d like to stay on a little longer. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got more to live for now than I’ve had for years.” He angled to look up at a smiling Wynona before turning back to Charlee. “My daughter is back in my life. Coming to visit in another week. I’ll get to spend some time with my granddaughter. Even if this ticker only holds out for another month, I’ve gotten every blessing a man my age can hope for.”
Charlee nodded. She was beginning to understand. It wasn’t quantity of years. It was quality.
He closed one eye. “Now, on to more important things. You have a promise to keep to your father, little girl.”
“Spreading his ashes.”
Gruber sat up straighter. “That’s right.”
“Well, I’d like to do that when my brothers are here.” She looked over at Ian, whose smile could light up the abyss. “I’m hoping they will all be able to come for the wedding. But maybe a small preliminary ceremony would be nice.”
“Later today,” Mr. Gruber said.
Charlee flashed a quick look to Ian then turned her attention back to Mr. Gruber. “Are you sure you’d be up to that?”
“Yep. Already got a present to mark the occasion.”
“All right. This afternoon. At my favorite spot.”
Charlee stayed in the hospital room while Ian slipped downstairs to the cafeteria. He poured a cup of coffee at the help-yourself station.
Jeremiah’s voice caused him to turn. “I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell you thanks for being here for my sister.”
Ian smiled. “I’m the one who’s grateful.”
Miah ran a hand through his hair and Ian noticed two nurses stopping to watch him. “I’m really sorry about the property stuff.”
“What? The message you left about her selling the property?”
“Dude, I didn’t do that on purpose. I didn’t know about what Richard did to her.”
Ian slapped him on the shoulder. “I know you didn’t. Forget about it. Besides, I told you it would never work.”
They both chuckled.
Ian pivoted to face him. “A crisis was probably the only way for Cha
rlee to realize alcohol isn’t her answer. Everything happened the way it needed to, Jeremiah, so don’t beat yourself up.”
Miah’s eyes grew troubled. “How is she?”
“She’s got a handle on it. I know she had to dig deep, search her soul, understand that being independent and headstrong is great, but you can’t let it control you. It’s okay to need others.”
“I guess I can understand that.” Jeremiah slipped his hands into his pockets.
“Maybe it’s easier for us because we’re soldiers. You’re only as strong as the men surrounding you.” Ian took a sip of the coffee, made a face, and went back for more cream. “So, what happened with your investor?”
Miah shrugged. “Only interested in the whole plot.”
“And your brothers agreed? You only needed Charlee?”
Miah nodded. “I’m glad things worked out like this, though. I’ve been checking out the big building on my stretch of land. It’s in need of repairs, but it could be a pretty cool lodge.”
“Really? Going to open your own artists’ colony?”
Miah laughed; the sound drew the attention of three women walking by. “Hardly. I was thinking a hunting and fishing lodge.”
They took the stairs instead of the elevator and started down the long corridor. Charlee stepped out of Gruber’s room and Ian’s heart melted. Just like it always did when he saw her. He was vaguely aware of Miah saying something about the nurses’ station, but Ian barely heard. The woman of his dreams, the woman he loved, the woman who would soon become his wife was right down the hall waiting for him. As if she knew he was there, she turned and smiled.
And Ian smiled too and said a silent thanks to Major Mack, the man who brought them together. In the farthest reaches of his mind, Ian had to wonder if this had been Major Mack’s plan all along. Ian had once asked him why he’d taken such an interest in him. The major answered that if he could reach Ian, he could reach anyone. Did Mack mean anyone, even Charlee? “Thanks, Mack,” he said, then added, “You had my six.”
Along the Broken Road (The Roads to River Rock Book 1) Page 28