HORIZON MC
Page 78
“That’s right.”
“But you had a chance to continue the charade. You hadn’t thought it was a charade, and you’d made a life for yourself as Jack Ryder. People knew you as that person. Why didn’t you continue being Jack? You had everything going for you.”
“I would’ve had everyone fooled, sure,” I said. “But I didn’t want it like that. They’re good people, my friends. I wouldn’t have wanted to lie to them. And the person who meant more to me than anything was already figuring out that I wasn’t Jack.”
“Someone was figuring it out? Who?”
“Cheyenne.”
“She could tell the two of you apart?” My father shook his head. “I used to drive myself nuts trying to do the same for you and Jack. You were little doppelgängers.”
“She couldn’t at first. She knew things were off, but we both thought it was because of the amnesia. I didn’t have a baseline to establish for myself, and when she started telling me things we used to do, things I used to like and dislike, none of it matched up.”
“You didn’t seem like Jack,” my father confirmed. “I just chalked it up to combat changing you, the whole explosion and everything.”
“All of the doctors I went to said the same thing. That it was completely natural, for cases like mine, even for personalities to be different after brain trauma.”
“But you were an entirely different person. Without knowing it.”
“That’s right.”
“And Cheyenne – are you all an item?”
“Going steady and everything.”
“You smartass.”
“That was one thing that didn’t change.”
“Cheyenne led you back to yourself. She was the only one who knew both you and Jack from before.”
“She saved me.”
“You love her.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“You’re head over heels.”
“It feels that way, sometimes.” Because it did. I was sometimes so overwhelmed with how much I loved her, how deeply I owed her for being there for me as I found my way back, that it was almost intimidating. But the fear of not being good enough was what had messed me up before. Now I had to focus on accepting myself, flaws and all. I was just lucky that Cheyenne seemed to accept me so effortlessly, flaws and all.
“I still think you should marry that Cheyenne,” my father said, elbowing me. “You definitely have my blessing on that.”
“I thought you said I shouldn’t ask for permission to snap her up.”
“I’m your father. At least give me a heads up.”
“I will. I promise.”
My father. He was my father. Nothing was going to be solved immediately, but when I grasped him quickly into a hug, hoping I could convey more in the gesture than I had been able to with my explanations, he relaxed into it. Hugged me back.
And that would’ve never happened before, me initiating a hug, or him accepting it.
One small step for our revived relationship.
Cheyenne looked up from her phone with a smile as we stepped out onto the porch. Outside in the warm air, my chest loosened, and I felt the lightest I’d ever felt. There was something to be said about the healing power of confession, but I knew it was more than that. I knew my father had finally accepted me. That we were going to get through this. And no matter how long it took, I was going to have closer ties with him. Like real fathers and sons had.
“I was afraid you might run off,” my father said.
“I’m a stand-and-fight kind of girl,” Cheyenne told him, getting up from the swing. She could’ve asked how everything went, but she could probably tell things were going to be all right just due to the fact that we came out together, neither of us shouting or weeping angrily.
“Welcome back to the Ryder family,” my father told her, after a small hesitation, and it was the perfect thing to say. Cheyenne grinned and gave the old man a hug.
“Felt like I never really left,” she admitted, and, wow, were we joking about this now? Had we officially entered into this territory? Because I was relieved in a big way.
“Don’t be a stranger around here, now,” my father warned her, and she laughed.
“It would be impossible,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll be back here way more often, now. And you’re welcome in Rio Seco at any time. You should see the business your son built. Most popular bar in town.”
“Only bar in town,” I clarified, but my father was still dazzled.
“You own your own business?”
“That’s right.”
“His own very successful business,” Cheyenne threw in.
“That’s enough.” I shrugged at my father. “She has to say that. She runs the kitchen.”
“Best food in the county.”
“That much is true.”
My father was speechless for a moment, and I wondered if that had been a little too much information to take in at once, that his no-good, lazy son was back from the grave and he wasn’t no-good or lazy anymore. But I recognized the tears of joy in his eyes and had to bite the inside of my own cheek to keep from crying myself.
He was proud of me. It was a foreign feeling, especially since I hadn’t done a whole lot for him to be proud of prior to joining the Army Rangers. But now he was proud of me, for the work I’d put in and what I’d achieved because of it.
“I’d like you to see it one day,” I told him, “if you feel up to making the trip. I could always come up to get you, or send somebody.”
“Or you could even move into town,” Cheyenne suggested, then stared at our mutual reactions of mild panic. “What? You really could. Get in while the getting’s good. Didn’t James tell you? He’s almost singlehandedly responsible for the renaissance of Rio Seco. With all the fundraising and beautification projects he’s been sponsoring, almost all of the historic main street buildings are occupied now, and undergoing preservation and renovations. New businesses are setting up shop on streets that used to be empty. If you wait too long, the real estate market is going to explode. It’s a buyer’s market, and your son should be elected mayor.”
“Stop it,” I scolded her. “It wasn’t all me – you’re such an exaggerator. Dad, my best friends and I have a club that organizes the fundraisers, and we–”
The old man threw his arms around me again, squeezing me to his chest, his thinning frame trembling.
“You are exactly the man I wanted you to be,” he whispered into my ear, and even pushing my sunglasses down over my eyes did little to conceal my tears. “Maybe you had to forget about yourself for a little while, forget about all the pressure I put on you, to be the person you were meant to be. A good person.”
“Thank you,” I whispered back, not fully trusting my own voice. “Thank you.”
He stood on the porch and watched us go, and it squeezed my heart a little to imagine him still standing long after we’d gone.
“He’s a tough old man,” Cheyenne shouted into my ear, correctly guessing what was on my mind. “He’ll be fine. Especially now that he knows he has something to live for.”
“Did you really have to invite my dad to come live with us in Rio Seco?” I joked back to her. “Because you’ll be in charge of that, not me.”
“Look at you, passing the buck.”
“It was your idea.”
“And it’s your father.”
I revved the engine cheerfully, obnoxiously. “Can’t hear you.”
Miles down the road, Cheyenne squeezed me tighter. “I’m glad it went well,” she said, the words barely carrying over the wind.
“Me too.” I took my hand off the throttle for a moment to squeeze her knee. “Thanks for being there for me.”
“Always. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Before I understood who I truly was, the open road had always given me solace. The constancy of the rhythm of riding was something of a comfort, the way that I could lose myself in the miles.
But with the woman I loved a presence behind me and the whole world stretched out in front of me, heading back to Rio Seco with the promise of spring in the air, a warm wind we slid through easily, I finally felt something I had craved for a long time. Peace.
Peace with myself, with my past, present, and future.
Peace with my friends and my family.
Peace with Cheyenne, peace with loving someone so damn much.
Peace with whatever waited beyond the horizon.
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