Rocky Mountain Forever

by Vivian Arend

  A hand had slid between Ashley’s body and Cassidy’s, and she hummed her approval. “I like it when you guys show up in the middle of the afternoon.”

  “It’s a brief stop, tempting as it is to make it longer,” Travis growled, scraping his teeth along Cassidy’s jaw before stepping back. “We should grab the kids, Cass. Daniel’s expecting us.”

  Slightly disappointed, Ashley voiced her curiosity. “You stealing them away to Daniel’s?”

  Cassidy carried her to the nearest chair, settling with her on his lap, legs draped to one side. “T is right. As much as we’d like to continue this, you have the girls coming over, yes?”

  She’d found a treasure trove of boxes hidden in the attic of the old Peter’s house where they now lived. In the ongoing quest for Coleman memory book information, she’d convinced one sister-in-law and a few cousins-in-law to come make an afternoon of it. “They’ll be here in half an hour.”

  “Daniel asked for help boxing some furniture orders he needs to ship before the end of the year. Between his boys and us, we’ll keep the babies safe,” Travis promised. “You have Forest, though.”

  The one thing Ashley never worried about in the Coleman family was their protective instincts around children. “Okay. Have fun.”

  Cassidy cupped the back of her neck. “We’ll have more fun when we get back tonight,” he promised before searing her lips with a red-hot kiss.

  And when Travis joined in, taking control before she’d had much of a chance to gasp for air, Ashley realized it might not be magic but a good old-fashioned lack of oxygen making the room sparkle with a million twinkling lights.

  Dangerously sexy, seriously committed. Impulsively, Ashley wrapped an arm around both their necks and gave a huge squeeze before letting go.

  Travis’s lips twisted up. “What was that about?”

  “Just making sure I reset the magic button. I like what we’ve got,” she admitted. “I love what we’ve got. I want to recognize how blessed I am. How loved. How much I love you both.”

  “Here I was going to make some smartass quip about your magic button, then you had to go and be all heart-achingly sweet,” Cassidy complained. “Love you too.”

  Travis didn’t say the words but pulled her against him again for a brief, intense hug before briefly vanishing upstairs with Cassidy.

  Her guys and oldest babies were out the door a few minutes later. Ashley sighed happily and slid into the kitchen to get the kettle going. She was still pumping on happy endorphins when her expected company showed up, all four of them.

  Jaxi from next door arrived first. Ashley had been spending more and more time with her, much to both their amusement.

  Melody and Allison crowded into the house next, laughing as they hung up coats and marched into the kitchen. They were not only cousins-in-law but had been good friends for many years before becoming related by marriage.

  Add in Laurel, the youngest and newest Angel Coleman, and the kitchen was suddenly very full.

  Melody looked at the stack of boxes lined up beside the sturdy kitchen table with something near to dismay. “You’re kidding. When you said you’d found some boxes, I thought maybe half a dozen. Have you been using these to insulate the walls?”

  “I don’t understand why they’re still here,” Allison teased. “You’re supposed to nest before the babies arrive, not after.”

  “She didn’t have time to nest.” Jaxi stole Forest from Ashley and cradled the teeny baby against her chest, sighing contentedly. “Now it’s not nesting but organizing. Admit it. You want these things out so you can have more room for art supplies.”

  Ashley raised a hand in the air. “Nope. I confess. I have decided to become a clothes hound. I need way more closet space for all the shoes I plan to buy.”

  Laurel snickered so hard she ended up gasping for air. Ashley helpfully patted her on the back until the younger woman wiggled away with a laugh. “See, if you’d said rubber boots, I might’ve believed you.”

  It took a couple more minutes to get set up, Allison ordering Melody around. “Put the damn box down, pregnant lady. Jeez. You need to stop with the heavy lifting.”

  “I’m pregnant, not broken,” Melody complained, but she settled and offered Ashley a wink.

  “You’ll be tied up and duct-taped to a chair in your house if you go out on another vet visit,” Laurel said slyly. “Or so I heard Steve threaten after your little adventure the other day.”

  Melody rolled her eyes. “I helped deliver kittens. It was not physically demanding.”

  Allison patted her arm gently. “It’s hard to stop when you love your job. But go near anything bigger than a kitten, and the entire clan will intervene.”

  “I know.” Melody rubbed her small baby bump. “I promise I’ll be good, kiddo, and it’ll be worth it.”

  Boxes were opened, and Jaxi began passing out the contents. “Sort into garbage or history first, and later we can create family piles to deal with.”

  Conversation continued, quiet and full of everyday things, including lots of discussion of the eclectic mix of items in the stash before them.

  “Do we need a grocery list from sometime in the 1960s?” Laurel asked.

  “Does it have the prices listed next to it? Because that would be cool, although it would probably break my brain and make me sad at the same time.” Melody leaned over her shoulder. “Nah. It’s just a list.”

  “A lot of beans,” Laurel pointed out.

  “Dangerous,” Jaxi said, and they all hummed in agreement, which caused laughter to start all over again.

  An aged envelope slipped from between the pages of a journal. “Oh look, Canada Post has arrived—” Ashley pulled out a single, torn-edged paper and read quickly. “Oh, dear.”

  She got an awful lot of attention with that small, quiet phrase. Four sets of eyes were on her instantly, waiting.

  “I take it it’s better than a list of butter and beans?” Melody asked.

  “I’m not sure…” Ashley hesitated then turned to Jaxi. “You read it and decide if it’s for public consumption.”

  “Oh. It’s one of those kinds of letters.” Allison glanced at Laurel. “Cover your ears, sweetie. We don’t want to corrupt you.”

  Laurel lifted a hand and very carefully raised her middle finger at her sister-in-law even as she blinked innocently.

  Meanwhile, Jaxi had been examining the note. “It’s not a dirty message. But it’s definitely intriguing.” She glanced around. “Family secrets stay family secrets, right?”

  Melody drew an X over her heart. “Now you’ve got me curious.”

  Jaxi laid the note on the table, pressing it flat, and they all leaned in to read it themselves.

  I never knew it was possible to be so happy and so confused at the same time. I’m not sure why I’m torn. I know I love him, completely and thoroughly, which means having any kind of feelings toward his brother is wrong.

  A soft whistle escaped Laurel’s lips. “Oh dear is right.”

  “Well, that’s a bit of an unexpected twist.” Ashley glanced at the pile she’d been digging through. She lifted her gaze to Jaxi’s. “There’s a whole lot of Six Pack ranch pictures in here.”

  “Marion?” Jaxi shook her head briskly then paused, confusion slipping into her eyes. “Nah. It couldn’t be Marion.”

  “Well, given that we’re going through boxes of Coleman memorabilia, it’s one of the aunts.”

  “Or a great-aunt,” Laurel pointed out. “You know how everybody gets handed the bits and pieces from past family. They tend to shove it all together then ignore it.”

  Allison was nodding. “That makes more sense considering it’s just a loose page all by itself. It’s not the kind of thing someone would leave lying around. Maybe they tore it out of a journal and planned on destroying it.”

  The mysterious note was put aside when Melody hit the jackpot and discovered a huge collection of pictures in another box. “Somebody made notes on the back, which I kn
ow is terrible for archive quality, but thank goodness for our sake, because otherwise it’s like a million pictures of Uncle Mike and nobody else.”

  “Ha—they do all look like Uncle Mike back then.” Laurel examined the pile of pictures she was handed. “Oh, that’s the Angel ranch. I recognize the roofline.” She flipped through the pictures. “It’s before they added the deck, and look—”

  Ashley leaned in and whistled. “Auntie Dana. Look at the hottie.”

  She snickered as Jaxi absently smacked her on the shoulder. “Stop objectifying our aunt.”

  “Just saying.” Ashley stole the pictures and fanned them out on the table. “Hubba-Hubba.”

  “You’re terrible,” Laurel complained. “I want to give these to my mother-in-law, but now the entire time I’ll be thinking about how you would’ve hit on her.”

  “Whoever took the pictures was definitely hitting on her, and she didn’t mind one bit,” Ashley offered gleefully. “That is a very I’m thinking dirty thoughts about you look in her eyes.”

  Laurel put her hands over her ears. “La la la la la la la.”

  Laughter burst free. Jaxi laid a hand on Laurel’s shoulder. “Ashley promises to behave herself and not be a terrible sex fiend anymore.”

  “Maybe only for the next half-hour or so. I don’t want her to break anything,” Laurel said as she took the pictures back. “These were taken on the rise behind the main house. That crocus field has been there forever, and every spring, it goes wild.”

  “I wonder where the wild roses are, though,” Allison said. She picked another picture and waved it. “I like this one even better. Auntie Dana is surrounded by a sea of pink. It’s beautiful.”

  Laurel nodded thoughtfully. “You know—her signature perfume is wild roses.”

  “That’s neat,” Ashley said. She frowned. “How come I don’t have a signature perfume?”

  “Sure, you do,” Melody said. She kept working on the stack in front of her, but her grin slowly widened. “Eau de Testosterone. Aftereffects from those two cavemen you hang out with.”

  Which wasn’t all bad, although Ashley was going to give some more serious consideration to real alternative. Something that was a little more floral and less dirt, sweat and sex appeal.

  Not that she had a problem with that combination…

  She turned back to the women and the task at hand and let the sweet goodness of life wash over her in continuing waves. Mysterious Coleman histories would be chatted about with her guys when they got home.

  Keeping a secret in this family, where everyone knew everyone else’s business? The fact it had held for this long was a miracle. No chance the truth wasn’t going to come out eventually.

  6

  Blake pushed back from the table, stomach protesting with how stuffed he was. Even though the holidays were over and they’d headed into the new year, there was no such thing as a small meal ever offered at his mother’s. “Ma, you and Jaxi outdid yourself tonight.”

  “Still haven’t figured out how to cook for just two,” his mom said with a laugh as she eyed the mostly full bowls lining the table. “Your kids need to hurry up and get bigger so they eat more.”

  “Dear Lord, there’s a reason why the garden keeps getting bigger every year,” Jaxi said with a wink. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Marion’s cheek. “My thanks as well. It was delicious.”

  “It was really yummy, Gramma,” Lana agreed.

  “We like your meatloaf better than Mommy’s…”

  “… because she sneaks carrots into hers.”

  A snort escaped before Blake could stop it. He schooled himself and turned a stern expression on the twins. “You seem to eat an awful lot of that meatloaf, even with the carrots.”

  “Mommy’s is good,” Becca agreed.

  “…only, Gramma’s is even better. No carrots,” Rae said slowly, as if explaining something to a small child.

  “I think you’re just digging yourself a deeper hole, Blake.” Jaxi clapped her hands. “Okay, dishes time. We’ll have conversations about the why of meatloaf ingredients when you get a little older.”

  Blake helped clear, but then his mom and Jaxi both shooed him from the kitchen area. “I can take the boys—”

  “We got it this time,” his mom insisted, gesturing to the mass of kids milling around in organized chaos. They even had little Justin perched on a tall stool at the counter, smacking his hands into the soapy dishwater as bubbles flew upward. “Go play crib or relax or whatever.”

  “And show your Dad that picture I found,” Jaxi reminded him before vanishing behind the kitchen door.

  Right. Blake reached into the breast pocket of his shirt before rejoining his dad at the now-empty table. “Jaxi and the girls were going through some boxes and found this. I’ve never seen it before.”

  He handed it to Mike, who clicked his tongue in amazement. A gentle shake of his head followed as he gazed at the slightly yellowed four-by-five photo.

  It was a collection of four Coleman men, all at different stages of their lives. They were seated on hay bales, a small baby settled in the lap of one. Canadian flags and red and white streamers hung in the background.

  “Well, I’ll be. That was taken on Canada Day the year you were born.” Mike pointed. “Grandpa Stan, I mean, your Great-Grandpa. My dad, Royce. Me and you. You would’ve been not even two months old.”

  “Four generations of Colemans.” Blake stared over his dad’s shoulder. “That’s pretty neat.”

  Mike nodded slowly. “Great-Grandpa Stan passed away later that summer, so this is probably one of the only pictures with all of us together.”

  Blake racked his memory, but he was coming up blank. “I’ve been thinking ever since Jaxi showed it to me, and I figured it was you and me, but I don’t have any memories of when Grandpa Royce was around, either.”

  “Makes sense. You were still young when he died.”

  Mike stared at the photo for a little while as womanly laughter and the sound of childish shrieking echoed from the kitchen.

  His dad tilted his head then gestured for Blake to join him outside. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  It was brisk outside, the January air cool against their skin. Their breath formed fog clouds around their heads as they strolled the path between the trailer his parents had moved into and a small barn/workshop. They’d built it last summer so Mike had somewhere to work on projects without going to the main barn across the road at the Six Pack land.

  Something was obviously on his father’s mind, but Blake paced silently beside him and let the older man take the time he needed.

  They were inside the barn, the golden lights overhead reflecting off the wooden walls. Mike stoked the coals in the airtight stove and placed another log on them before stepping back and brushing his hands clean.

  He sat at the small table along the sidewall and gestured to the seat opposite him. “Was thinking now that it’s a new year, we should head to the bank and finish up some paperwork.”

  Blake eyed his father. “You need extra money for something?”

  Which, if he did, wasn’t a problem. Nothing his Ma and Dad needed would go unanswered if Blake had anything to say about it.

  Mike shook his head. “We’ve been moving this way for a while. I want you to keep taking on more responsibility, and I want it official.”

  “Retirement.” Blake grinned. “You deserve it. No need to do anything on paper, though. None of us mind if you take extra time to go fishing or don’t do early chores anymore.”

  He’d expected his father to chuckle, but instead, the man took a deep breath then proceeded to very earnestly mess with Blake’s mind. “The picture reminded me. You don’t remember, as both your grandpa and great-grandpa passed on before you were anywhere near old enough to understand, but there’s a bunch of stuff I want in place before it’s too late.”

  His dad was being far too serious, and it shook the amusement right out of Blake. He leaned forward, elbows resting on
the table. “There something wrong that you haven’t been telling me about?”

  Mike shook his head. “Healthy as a horse, last time I went to the doctor. Only, the truth is, I don’t expect that to stay the truth.”

  “Everybody gets old, Dad.”

  “Unless they go young, like my father. He was only sixty-four when he died. He’d been broken up bad in the logging accident he had when he was in his twenties. That man lived with pain every day of his life, yet you never would’ve known it.” Mike was staring off into the distance now, rocking his chair slowly. “Didn’t complain, but I knew it hurt something inside that his strength wouldn’t be enough to get him through to old age.”

  “From what you and my uncles have said about him, he was an incredibly hard worker and a good man.”

  Mike nodded decisively. “The best. He taught me a lot.” He looked firmly at Blake. “And he taught me to do what’s right, even if it means planning ahead. Great-Grandpa Stan lived a lot longer—all the way to ninety—but the last twenty years of his life, he wasn’t really there. He lost himself. I suppose it was Alzheimer’s or some kind of dementia.”

  That was a surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Wasn’t a thing we usually talked about. It came on fast, and then he took a lot of caring for.” Mike met Blake’s eyes. “None of us begrudged the effort it took, and I’ll straight-up say it. I know if I go the same way, none of you will be sitting there cussing me out for forgetting what day it is.”

  Holy shit. “You think this is going to happen to you?”

  Mike nodded. “It’s possible. It’s very possible, and while I’ll tell you right now, I don’t want it and the thought scares me to death, even in the midst of fighting to do everything I can to keep my brain rolling the way it should for as long as I can, I am going to do the other thing my dad taught me. That’s make sure my family is ready.”

  Blake collapsed back in his chair. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing to say,” Mike returned dryly before shrugging. “Who knows. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’ll live to a hundred and beat you at crib until my dying day.”