Make Me Yours (Men of Gold Mountain)

by Brooks, Rebecca

  But Seth Richter. That was a name she hadn’t thought about in ages.

  And the whole rest of the gang—Cam Sallister and the other guy who used to play with them, the one with the bitten nails who alternated between keyboard and guitar. She didn’t even know Ryan was in touch with them anymore.

  “What were you doing with Seth Richter?” she asked. But it didn’t come out like a question. They’d passed from yelling into something far more dangerous. Far more chilling.

  “Everything was fine,” he repeated.

  She folded her arms. She couldn’t even dignify that with a response. The more he finally told her—about Cam’s call, the bar, whatever idiotic rationale had convinced him that taking Maya to meet those guys at a sleazy joint was a better idea that literally anything else he could have done—the more she felt the color draining from her face.

  By the time he got to the end, she just couldn’t listen anymore.

  “Get out,” she said, shaking her head when he was about to go on.

  “What?” Ryan screwed up his face like he couldn’t understand her.

  “I said, get out of here.”

  The Claire she used to be was quiet. Even-keeled. Mild-mannered to a fault. Never once did she throw a bucket of cold water on his head and demand he wake the fuck up, or shove her pregnancy test in his face so he couldn’t forget.

  No, she tiptoed around while he was passed out, silently packed up her things, and disappeared without a trace.

  But that person was a distant memory. Ryan might not have changed as much as she’d thought, but she’d changed even more than she’d realized. When he didn’t budge, she moved toward him, every step forward making him step back.

  “Claire,” he tried. “I’m telling you, it was an accident.”

  “I trusted you.” Another step and he was back to the door. “I trusted you with my daughter.” Another step and he was standing in the hallway. “I trusted you with my heart.”

  “She was having a really good time,” he said weakly. “Cam showed her some riffs on the drums.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She couldn’t believe he actually thought he could justify this.

  “You took Maya to a bar, Ryan. You were responsible for her for one night, and you couldn’t even put her needs first for that long. Couldn’t say no to a bunch of guys you could see any time and stick with what was best for a kid.”

  “I told you how sorry I am. Can’t you cut me one inch of slack for trying to make this better? For the fact that I was scared out of my mind? That I’ve just been through the worst experience of my entire life—and believe me, there’s some stiff competition for that title—and that all I want is to be holding you right now?”

  She heard it then, the break in his voice. Understood that what had come before—the casual stroll, the coffee, the calm to his voice—was all an act, an attempt on his part to maintain control.

  But he couldn’t fucking have it. He couldn’t be in control, and she wasn’t here to make this easier for him, to make sure he didn’t feel anything too painful, to protect him from the consequences.

  “Isn’t there anything I can do?” he said softly when she couldn’t respond.

  She shook her head. “Just let me take care of this.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’ve done enough already.”

  “You can’t kick me out, Claire. I’m her father, I’m the one who’s been talking to the doctors, and I’m not just going to leave her here.”

  The F-word again. It made her blood boil just to hear him say it.

  “I don’t just mean the hospital,” Claire said, clenching her fists to fight back the tears.

  “You don’t mean that,” he said.

  But she shook her head. He couldn’t talk her out of this.

  “Get out of the hospital, and get out of Gold Mountain. I don’t know what you think you’ve been doing these past few weeks, but your life isn’t here, Ryan. The little games we’ve been playing, pretending we can start over? Pretending there’s ever going to be a happy ending for us? Go home, Ryan. Go back to your actual life.”

  She saw him stammer, saw his eyes go dark as the sea. She almost took it back, told him they could find some kind of compromise where he got to see Maya occasionally, even if whatever else they’d been up to was officially done.

  But then she heard a faint moan, the sounds of Maya coming to behind her, and she couldn’t give him another second to weasel his way back into their lives.

  “Go home, Ryan,” she said again.

  And then she made her decision final. He was on the other side of the threshold, standing in the hallway while she was still in the room. Which made it easy for her to reach out and slam the door in his face.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ryan stared at the hospital door. The one that had just shut in front of him.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” a nurse said, pulling on his elbow in a way that was gentle yet firm. “If you don’t have custody of the child, and the mother has asked you to leave, then I’m afraid you can’t be here right now.”

  Ryan wanted to protest. Kick down the door. Scream that that was his kid in there and he had every right to see her. That the woman he loved was hurting and it was his job to be there, to hold her, to protect her from harm.

  But Claire’s words echoed in his ear.

  Go home.

  He may have carelessly shot his load some five years and nine months ago, but everyone knew he wasn’t the father in any meaningful sense of the word. And since he was the one who’d poisoned their daughter, he sure as hell had no right to be with her in the hospital now.

  He’d thought he was doing the right thing, or at least not the worst thing, when he’d told the guys he’d meet them. When he’d started thinking about how to make a music career in Washington. When he’d gotten Maya excited about music and playing the drums.

  But was he doing the right thing when he ignored her when she said she was hungry? When he had his back to her while he was conferring with Cam, entirely focused—once again—on himself and his own career?

  He’d tried to prove that he was different from the guy he used to be, that getting sober and leaving his band had changed him, made him better. Made him the man he knew he was deep down inside. The one he wanted to be.

  But here was his proof. What kind of recovering alcoholic took a five-year-old to a bar to meet up with a group of guys he didn’t even know well anymore? What kind of irresponsible father thought that was even remotely okay?

  Claire already thought he was a monster, and she only knew the barest outline of what had happened. She didn’t know that when Maya had told him she was hungry, he’d ignored her, told her it would only be a few minutes, turned his back on her to talk to Cam because at that moment he was right back to who he used to be, when all he could see was the need to prove himself, to show that he was still in the music game and nothing could tear him away.

  In some twisted way, Seth had been looking out for Maya more than he had, by at least giving her a snack. He couldn’t blame Seth for giving her the peanuts. Seth had no way of knowing. Ryan was the one who was supposed to have known. He was the one who was supposed to have been looking out for his daughter.

  His daughter.

  That first moment he’d laid eyes on Maya, he’d felt his heart grow in a way he’d never known was possible. He’d once been selfish, small, but seeing her made him…bigger. That was the only way he could put it.

  But he wasn’t bigger. He wasn’t better.

  He was the same person he’d always been. A few tattoos, a better haircut, a commitment to drinking nothing stronger than sweetened black coffee didn’t change who he fundamentally was inside.

  He didn’t deserve Claire, and he certainly didn’t deserve Maya. Claire had known that five years ago when she’d left him to have a baby on her own. Being by herself was better than being with him, and it was clear that she still felt that
way.

  She’d rejected him all over again. Only this time, she wasn’t the one walking out. She was the one telling him it was over, there was no more space for him here.

  Claire had her life in Gold Mountain—her business, family, friends, a great house she’d turned into a home. He had nothing to offer. Which was why she was right.

  He had to leave.

  He didn’t think about what he was doing. He went straight to his hotel, packed his bags, and checked out. He wanted to linger, to see the mountains one last time. But it was dark now, and there was nothing to see. Nothing worth waiting around for.

  He still had one of his guitars over at Claire’s place, but he’d leave it as a present for Maya. Maybe someday Claire would tell her about her father. Even if she didn’t, maybe Maya would grow up playing and think of him sometimes.

  Hopefully in a good way, as someone who was once friends with her mother and taught her a few chords on that guitar. Not as the person who’d done nothing but let her down.

  He called Eddie, who was so relieved Ryan hadn’t fallen into a black hole that he picked up on the first ring.

  “Thank God you’re coming home, man,” Eddie said, breathing an obvious sigh of relief. “I didn’t think I could put the rest of Little White Lie off for much longer. I’ll get you a flight tonight and tell them you’ll be in the office tomorrow, yeah?”

  Ryan was too worn out to think. “Sure,” he said. “Whatever.”

  Eddie would tell him what to do, where to go. What to sign. Even if he didn’t have his family, he’d have his career. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted all along?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Knock knock.”

  Mack, Sam, and Abbi showed up at the hospital door with so many flowers and balloons they could barely fit through the door.

  “Connor made cookies,” Mack said, opening a tin of frosted sugar cookies in dinosaur shapes. Maya was sitting up in bed and had just been complaining about how the Jell-O was “too wiggly.” But a green triceratops cookie? There was no way she’d say no to that.

  “Tell Connor to be careful,” Claire said with a sniffle as Maya dug in. “She’s going to want to be in the hospital all the time if it means this kind of royal treatment.”

  Mack kissed Maya’s forehead and then passed Claire a tissue.

  “Come on, Mama,” Abbi said, rubbing Claire’s back. “No more crying.”

  “I know,” Claire said, wiping her eyes. She’d been trying to sob a little less in front of Maya, but it wasn’t going so well.

  “The doctor said I ate something I wasn’t supposed to,” Maya said knowingly when Sam asked how she was feeling.

  “It’s not your fault, sweet pea,” Claire said. “But remember what we talked about? How if someone gives you something, you have to ask?”

  “I know,” Maya said, and looked a little less enthusiastic about her cookies. “But I was hungry, and I forgot.”

  “Where was she?” Sam asked.

  Just thinking about it made the tears flow again. “Ryan took her to a bar. And then basically ignored her. Someone else gave her a handful of those bar snacks; you know the things they have out in bowls? Pretzels and peanuts.”

  “Where’s Ryan?” Maya immediately asked, and Claire knew she shouldn’t have brought up his name.

  “He’s not here,” she said gently.

  “When is he coming back?”

  Claire glanced at her friends, hoping for some clue to how to handle this. But they all seemed to have the same question. How could she explain that sometimes the right thing to do was the thing that hurt the most?

  “I don’t know,” she said. Which was sort of true. Even if the more honest answer was more like, “Never.”

  “His friend was teaching me the drums,” Maya said. “I want to learn to play the drums, Mom. And the guitar. And I can sing, and—”

  “Okay, sweetie,” Claire said wearily, crossing her fingers that it was the medication speaking and not something Maya was going to remember and bug her about for a year. Just another thing she’d kill Ryan over. If she ever laid eyes on him again.

  “I’ll save him a dinosaur cookie,” Maya decided, taking a T. rex and putting it off to the side. Claire wasn’t sure how long that willpower would last, but she was impressed.

  And heartbroken.

  She had no idea how to tell her daughter that her favorite friend wasn’t coming back.

  Maya was released from the hospital the next day. Claire took her home and got her set up in bed with her stuffed animals, a stack of books, and a sandwich. But when she came back into Maya’s room with a glass of milk, the kid was fast asleep, clutching her dinosaur under her arm. The doctor said she’d be tired for days. She was going to miss school, but at least she was going to be okay.

  Claire went back downstairs where her friends had formed their own caretaking committee. Mack had brought wine, Sam had ordered a pizza, and Abbi was loading up their plates.

  “I can’t even think about food,” Claire said, sinking into the sofa.

  “You need to eat,” Abbi said, putting a plate in front of her.

  “Is she asleep?” Mack asked.

  Claire nodded and picked up the plate. On second thought, it did smell amazing.

  “Thanks, you guys,” she said as she took a bite. “I really appreciate all your help this weekend.”

  “You always take care of everyone else,” Mack said. “At least now we get a chance to repay you.”

  “And get the rest of the story,” Abbi said pointedly. “Tell us the dirt. Where’s Ryan?”

  Claire sighed. “I don’t know. Chicago, I assume.”

  “You assume?”

  “We didn’t exactly hash it out, okay?”

  “What do you mean? He just…left?” Sam plunked down next to her, eyes wide in surprise.

  “I think I made it pretty clear that was his only option.”

  Claire felt like shit. But she sat up a little straighter when she said it. This was her life, and it was her decision, so she’d better own it. Or something.

  “But he’s called, right?” Mack asked. “I mean, at least to check up on Maya?” She sounded incredulous. Claire couldn’t blame her. If she hadn’t known Ryan as well as she did, she wouldn’t have believed it, either.

  “You have to understand,” she said, picking at her pizza. “This is who Ryan is. It’s what he does. He’s fun and perfect and charming, and you get so swept up in him, the way Maya did.” The way I did. “But then something happens. Something real. Something where he has to make a tough decision, be an adult, put himself second for a change. Think about somebody else. And he just…” She tossed the pizza slice back on the plate. “He can’t do it, okay? And I can’t get caught up in that. Not again, and not anymore.”

  “You’ll make it through this,” Mack said. “We know you will.” But Claire could feel the glances over her shoulder, the questions they had.

  She looked down, feeling her eyes start to fill, and spotted Ryan’s guitar still in the corner of the living room where he’d left it. His favorite guitar, the one he hadn’t been without since he bought it with the earnings of his first sold-out show.

  She could practically hear his playing, his hands strong and agile as they moved across the strings. Those same hands that held her body tightly. That could be so gentle covering Maya’s as he placed her fingers over the frets.

  It wasn’t helping her resolve, and a tear spilled and dropped down her cheek.

  “Are you really sure it has to be over?” Sam asked quietly, reaching for her hand.

  Some other time, Claire could have imagined asking the same thing. She’d sat with each of her friends in moments like this and tried to find out whether everything really was as bad as it felt. Sometimes, it was. But when it came to the men they’d settled down with, she’d been the one encouraging them to go for it, take the plunge, let love in—especially in the times when it felt like too big a risk.

  But this
was different. No one here knew Ryan like she did. And while they loved Maya, it just wasn’t the same.

  “It has to be,” she said, wiping the tear away. “It doesn’t matter how great he is in other ways. He took my kid to a bar and didn’t pay attention to her or stop to think that, hey, maybe when she was hungry he should have fed her, or at the very minimum pay some attention to what a near stranger was giving her. I can’t pretend that’s okay. I thought he’d changed but—” She shook her head. “I think I just got swept up in this whole thing we were doing, and I didn’t realize it wasn’t enough.” And it was Maya who got caught in the crosshairs.

  So, to answer Sam’s question, she was sure. Breaking her own heart was a small sacrifice. She’d done it once before, and look at how well she’d recovered.

  But the truth, she now realized, was that she’d never fully gotten over that hurt. There was a splinter still in her heart. The scar tissue had healed around it, stronger than before. But it would never be as whole as it once was.

  It had seemed so easy for her to break her heart again. To say Ryan couldn’t be in her life—not after the way he’d let her down.

  Only now she was crying, her head in her hands, and it felt like it mattered, her love and her happiness, in ways she’d never quite allowed it to before.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ryan couldn’t believe what an asshole Eddie was, scheduling a meeting for so early in the morning right after he came back. He barely had time to swing by his apartment, drop his bags, shower, and change before he was out the door again, hailing a cab.

  At least Eddie knew his client and had coffee ready, not to mention a spread of donuts and those really good croissants with chocolate inside—a sign that he was seriously glad to see him and wanted Ryan to know it.