Healing You

by Katana Collins

  “Shut up. She did not say that.”

  Kyra smiled, winking at Ronnie. “Okay, maybe not that exactly. But she hasn’t put the dog down in an hour.”

  Wow. After all these years, who would have thought that her parents would be stepping up to help run her rescue? And maybe adopting their own dog while they were at it?

  Before she could think too hard on that fact, the door to the back room opened and Steve came out, tugging off surgical gloves and a face mask. All three women jumped to their feet, hands still linked.

  “How is he?” Yvonne asked. Steve’s glance faltered between all three girls, landing finally on hers. “Please, just tell me.”

  “He’s stable. For now…” His words drifted off from there and it was obvious that there was more to report than what he was saying. He pressed his lips together, the muscles at his neck roping with ferocity.

  “Whatever it is, just say it.” Not knowing was worse than anything he would tell her.

  “I won’t know until his blood workup comes back. But Dawn and I both suspect he has Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation. It’s a blood clotting disorder that sometimes appears with cancer and heat stroke.”

  Emotion tightened her throat, and Kyra and Ronnie squeezed her fingers. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means he’s not out of the woods yet. I gave him fluids to regulate his body temperature and a plasma transfusion to help with the blood clotting. But now… it’s up to Gatsby.”

  Yvonne released her friend’s hands, twisting his bandana around her fingers. “Can I see him?”

  Steve nodded. “Of course. And once he’s rested enough from the transfusion, I’ll help you take him home. If you don’t mind…” He sounded hesitant. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like to stay with you tonight. To keep an eye on him.”

  There wasn’t anything in that moment Yvonne wanted more. She nodded, the tears hot and stinging in her eyes. Steve led the way into the back procedure room where Dawn was sitting beside Gatsby, gently stroking his head. As she left, Yvonne reached out, grabbing her arm. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Dawn gave her a quick smile before exiting.

  It wasn’t until that moment that Yvonne realized her other hand was in Steve’s, fingers laced with his.

  “Do you want to be alone with him?” he asked.

  She shook her head no, and as she took a step forward, he held tight, walking beside her. She watched as Gatsby’s chest rose and fell with each steady breath.

  “Can I touch him?”

  Steve nodded. “Just don’t put too much pressure on him.”

  Steve untwined his fingers, and she stroked Gatsby’s blond fur. How many more times would she get to do this? Her palm grazed his ribs. How many more cuddles would she get with him? Her dog had taught her so many lessons throughout the years, the most important being that there is nothing more valuable in this world than a long walk with your best friend. How many more walks did they have left?

  She pressed her lips between his ears, where the fur was even softer than any other part of his body. There was a twitch of his eyebrows and his eyes drifted open, looking up at her with all the hope and love and emotion that a dog could offer. Unconditional love. Another lesson he had taught her through the years. Not letting the past dictate your future.

  She brushed her fingertips over the bridge of his square nose. “You couldn’t help but squeeze one more teaching moment in, could you?”

  “He’s waking up,” Steve observed. “That’s a really good sign.”

  Thump, thump. That tail of his gave two quick wags, hitting the stainless steel table.

  “Thank you for being there today, Steve. For me and for Gatsby.”

  “Yeah, well… I almost wasn’t. Again. I almost couldn’t get us here—”

  “But you did. You overcame that anxiety and your fear, and you saved his life.”

  Thump, thump.

  He scraped a hand down his face, kneading his knuckles into his eyes. “It’s going to be a long road with me. You know that, right? It’s not easy and I’ll probably have panic attacks far worse than anything you’ve seen from me yet—”

  The angry, pissed off teenager version of Yvonne would have thrown a fit and said that he was making excuses to push her away. But that girl hadn’t been around in some time. She moved around the table, standing in front of Steve once more. “I don’t care,” she said calmly. Moving her hands to his shoulders, desperately seeking much needed balance, she pushed onto her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his. The feel of his arms encasing her body, the scent of his lemony fresh aftershave, everything about his nearness made her knees tremble. He tilted his head, dipping his tongue into her mouth, exploring her before she pulled back ending the kiss, breathless. “We can get through this together.”

  They were surrounded by complications, and yet all Yvonne could see was the potential for an amazing life together. He smiled wryly. “I don’t want to run from you anymore,” he said quietly, but it seemed like he was also bracing for some sort of impact, his grip on her waist tightening. He remained frozen, completely unmoving as she inspected him. His eyes were intense and sharp, as steadfast as they were vulnerable.

  “But…?”

  “I also didn’t want to abandon you before, either. The anxiety won out, though. I wish I could guarantee it, but I’m terrified.”

  Sliding her fingers into his silky, blond hair, she tilted his head down, pressing a kiss to his scar. “Well, I’m not terrified,” she whispered. “Not at all.”

  That tension in his eyes seemed to drain away. “I love you, Eve.” With splayed fingers, he stroked up her back, then down again.

  “I love you, too.”

  Thump, thump.

  ‡

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Seven Months Later

  Yvonne stood at the top of Mount Washington, a light breeze blowing strands of hair out of her ponytail and whipping it around her face. The view of New Hampshire from up there was just breathtaking.

  Emotion tightened her throat, and she touched her hand to Gatsby’s handkerchief, tied around her neck and clutched her bottle of water tightly. She’d always suspected she would hike this mountain with her four-legged best friend.

  A cool hand slid into hers, his touch silky, though rough. She smiled with a sigh as she laced her fingers into Steve’s. Guess she’d just have to settle for her two-legged best friend.

  “How you holding up?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, she willed herself not to get emotional. It was her thirtieth birthday. She would not spend it crying. “For all its ups and downs, this has still been the best damn year of my life, Steve. Thank you.”

  He smiled, twirling the hair framing her face. “We have a few more hours until it marks the end of your twenty-ninth year. Let’s make it epic.” He kissed her softly, then let loose with a loud whistle.

  From the parking lot near the top of the mountain—the parking lot that some people use to cheat instead of hiking the trail—Molly and Daisy came trotting down, Gatsby following not far behind. Steve’s grin widened as Yvonne let loose with a squeal.

  “You said we shouldn’t bring them!” she said, bending to pet her dogs, scooping Daisy into her arms and squeezing Gatsby and Molly in a hug.

  “I said they shouldn’t hike it with us. I didn’t say anything about them not being allowed to join us at the top.”

  “Who’s here? Who brought them?” She peered behind Steve searching for Cam or Lydia or Ronnie… anyone. But no one was back there that she could tell.

  “It just didn’t feel right to do this, be up here without them, you know?” Steve bent down to pet Gatsby. As his hands ran over his fur, he grunted. “Oh, man,” he said. “I think Gatsby has a tick already.”

  Yvonne put Daisy down as she bent to where Steve’s hand rested at Gatsby’s neck. There, tied to Gatsby’s collar, sparkling in the New Hampshire sunlight, was the most perfect square cut diamond.


  “So, what do you say?” Steve asked. “What do you say we make this great year epic? Will you be my wife, Yvonne Brigitte Sarzacki?”

  The lump grew larger and her heart thudded in her chest. “Without a doubt. Without question.”

  He hopped to his feet, pulling her into his arms and against his mouth.

  As their kiss ended, he pulled her into his arms, hugging her. Holding her. “There’s the whole Tripp and Sarzacki clan waiting for us with champagne in the parking lot.”

  He moved to pull her toward the party, but she held on tightly to his hand, tugging him back into her. “Can we just enjoy this for one more minute? Just the two of us?”

  “Five of us,” he said pointedly, gesturing to the dogs.

  She nodded. “The five of us.”

  Steve scooped Daisy back into his arms, curling the other around her body. She pressed her cheek to his and looked out over the top of the mountain as Gatsby took his place, seated at her side.

  Thump, thump, she heard his tail.

  Thump, thump, she heard Steve’s heart.

  She looked down at the scar on her arm, not seeing a battle scar. But a constant reminder of how far they had both come.

  Together.

  ‡

  Epilogue

  Ronnie Tripp waited at the top of Mount Washington in the parking lot with the rest of her family. Excitement rattled in her body like a plastic bag in the wind. Her best friend and her brother were about to get engaged.

  The Tripp clan mingled about, everyone trying to keep their voices low. They could almost make out Steve and Yvonne through the trees at the top of the lookout of the mountain. Cam had already walked Molly, Daisy, and Gatsby down to the edge and let them run toward Steve to make the moment perfect. Knowing Yvonne? The moment that Steve proposed wouldn’t be complete without those dogs of hers there with them.

  To the right of Ronnie, Mrs. and Mr. Sarzacki stood beside their car, Mrs. Sarzacki’s little white fluff of a dog clutched in her arms. The sun caught a glint of fake diamonds on the poodle’s collar. Oh, hell. She hoped they were fake at least. Wouldn’t that be some shit? A damn dog owning more diamonds than she ever would?

  “Mrs Sarzacki,” Ronnie said quietly. “I bet Grace Kelly would have fun running around for a bit if you want to let her down.” She wished she had been kidding when she said the dog was named after the Princess of Monaco. But she wasn’t. And don’t you even dare try calling the dog by a shortened name like Gracie or GK. That woman would bite your head right off.

  “Oh, no,” Mrs. Sarzacki shook her head, clutching the cotton ball closer to her breast. “It’s so steep. What if she fell?”

  “You could keep the leash on her—”

  “Ronnie.” Marty shook her head and Ronnie stopped. What the hell was the point, anyway? Presenting reasonable and rational arguments to a woman who was afraid of everything.

  Callie leaned in, grasping Ruckus’s leash tightly in her hands. “I mean,” she whispered, “the worst could happen. The dog could chip her nail polish.”

  Ronnie snorted a laugh as their mom shot them each another look.

  “You may be joking,” Kyra said from the other side of them, “but broken nails hurt like a bitch.”

  It was Cam’s turn to spin around and give them a dirty look. Only this time, he gestured to Maddie. “You guys. Come on.”

  “Maddster,” Callie said. “You know not to regurgitate anything your aunts and uncles say, right?”

  Ronnie’s niece gave them a sheepish grin, but nodded, her dark hair swinging around at her shoulders.

  “Can anyone see what’s going on down there?” Lydia asked, pushing onto her toes, balancing her hands on Cam’s shoulders.

  Noah bent down, waving Maddie over. In a quick swooping move, he had her lifted up and sitting on his shoulders, looking through the bush to where the top of the lookout was. “See anything?”

  “He’s on one knee!” Maddie squealed, clapping.

  That nervous energy that was buzzing around the crowd swarmed louder. Trying to keep the Tripp family quiet while watching Steve get engaged was like trying to keep a swarm of bees quiet in front of a honey pot.

  A car sped into the lot, pulling into one of the farthest spots. And suddenly, those bees in Ronnie’s belly went into full flight as Lex hopped out of his Fiat and rushed over to them. “Am I late?” he asked, his tone hushed. Sweat gathered along the edge of his brow despite the leftover chill in the air from winter. “I’m so sorry. I underestimated how long it would take me to get up here.” That British accent of his was so damn attractive. Manchester, she’d come to learn. He’d been in Maple Grove for almost two years, and every now and then she’d hear some of their New England colloquialisms seep into his vernacular. Instead of “bloody cold”, he’d now and then say “wicked cold”. She loved hearing “wicked” in his accent. It made a phrase she’d grown up with and come to loathe sound foreign and sexy to her.

  She’d tried to stay far away from his bakery, Latte Da. And for the first six months he was in business, she’d been pretty successful. With the exception of the occasional coffee or latte there, she had steered clear, walking the long way around the block just so she wouldn’t have to smell the sweet scent of freshly baked goods. Even then, just thinking about Lex’s famously known pies in Maple Grove had her stomach aching for just one bite. But it wasn’t worth it. One bite always turned into three and four, and next thing Ronnie knew she had finished almost half a pie entirely by herself. She wasn’t sure what was worse. The guilt of eating, of not being able to resist, or the guilt of her purge after.

  “What are you doing here?” This was only for family. And close friends, she thought, looking at Kyra. She ignored that fluttering jolt in chest at the sight of him—tall and lean, his gray sweater hugging broad shoulders.

  Her best friend gave her a knowing grin, her platinum blond hair blowing across her face into her pink lipgloss. “Surprise!” Kyra said. “I ordered cupcakes for everyone so that we have something to nibble as we pop the champagne.”

  “Oh, Kyra,” Ronnie’s mom rushed over, giving her a hug. “That was so sweet. Thank you.”

  That conniving little—

  Ronnie looked back over at Lex, feeling her smile plumping her cheeks. A chilly gust of wind blew by frosting the tips of her ears and nose. “Are they gluten free?” she asked. Every time her family ordered a cake from him, they danced this waltz. She asked for something gluten free and he made a point of saying he would never bake anything gluten free. It had become part of their routine. A sparring match she was always ready for and delighted in.

  His smile widened, spreading over a beautiful set of teeth. His russet-brown hair had grown out a little, and his jaw, usually clean shaven, had a bit of five o’clock shadow poking through. “You truly couldn’t indulge yourself in one cupcake? Just one decadent chocolate caramel with a cookie crunch on top?” He moved in closer to her and even though it was only by two steps, her body surged with the sudden nearness of him. “After all,” he said. “You’re not celiac, right?”

  Ronnie shook her head, the base of her ponytail sweeping the back of her neck. “No. Just… careful.”

  “Maybe it’s time to live dangerously.” His eyes studied her face, sweeping down her features. Their turquoise color was alarming; bright and swirling like a Van Gogh painting.

  With all the strength she had, Ronnie pushed her gaze away from his. Temptation clawed up her body like a wild animal trapped inside of her desperate to escape. Not for the cupcakes. Screw the cupcakes. But for Lex. It came naturally for her to avoid the things she most wanted. She’d built her adult life around ignoring the urge for carbs and sugar and whenever she felt that desire, she hit the gym. But why? Would one cupcake really be such a problem? Would one date with Lex really cause her resolve to crumble? And if it did… would that be such a bad thing?

  Almost two years she had known this guy. Two years they had flirted. And he still hadn’t yet asked her out.
Then again, she wasn’t so great at the whole flirting thing. God knew, she was rusty. Maybe she was doing it wrong. Or maybe he wasn’t flirting with her at all, and this whole time she thought they had a connection, he was just being a nice guy. She didn’t really date much. She’d known almost all of the guys in town for her whole life. And to date one of them would be like dating a cousin or a brother. But Lex? He was new. Fresh meat. And most of the single women in town knew it. He was the chum in single lady infested waters, and they all circled him like starved sharks.

  “They’re kissing!” Maddie squealed. Excited chatter of everyone around them broke through their moment. If you could even define what they had just then as a moment.

  “Well, I should set up the cupcake table, then.” Lex moved to his trunk, pulling out a collapsible table and a clear plastic tier for the cupcakes.

  The buttercream frosting was decorated like Mount Washington and on the top of every cupcake were little fondant creations of Daisy, Gatsby, and Molly. Each holding a diamond ring in their mouths. They were unique. Detailed. Adorable. And perfectly fitted to Steve and Yvonne.

  “Let me help,” Ronnie offered, grabbing the cupcakes and placing them on the table. “You don’t think bugs will get them, will they?”

  With that, Lex pulled out a small mesh tent and placed it around the table. He tapped a finger to his temple and gave her a wink. “I think of everything, Ronnie.”

  “Everything except of clever, delicious ways to make healthy pastries—”

  From the bottom of his carrying case, he pulled out a cupcake with a set of barbells made out of fondant on top. “It’s made from almond flour,” he said, handing her the dessert. “The icing is made from organic dairy free whipped tofu, and sweetened with all natural Vermont maple syrup. And compared to the cupcakes everyone else will be eating, it’s dreadful. After today, I vow to never again make such a dessert … if you can even call it that.”