Epilogue
Ava
I adjusted the frame on the wall while the floorboard thumped repeatedly.
“Cordelia, these are your relatives. Your son Wallace is the older man in this photo. And these are his two kids, Ed and Trina. We met them. Wallace lived a long life, but he’s moved on now. Like you should do.” Then I told her the names of every relative in the photo.
When I was done, Tyler added, “And Ed’s coming to get you. Well, he’s hiring a professional service to handle those details. But they’re going to take you to Saint Louis so you can be with Orson.”
The floorboard started thumping so hard, I could see dust flying up in the air with each hit.
“I think she’s happy,” I whispered.
“I think she can hear you, even when you whisper,” Tyler whispered back with a sassy look on his face.
Ladies, whatever you do, don’t get with a sassy mountain man. They’re the worst. And I’d found myself the sassiest one on Red Oak Mountain.
I swatted him playfully, then looked around the cabin. It was empty now, except for the furniture.
Tyler had decided to leave that behind. My place was fully furnished, and he thought my couch was better than his and my bed more comfortable.
We’d decided to have him move into my place, since he seemed so taken with it.
Silas would be the new owner of the old gardener’s cottage after today.
Looking around the building, I said, “We’re going to miss you, Cordelia. But maybe you’ll go on to Saint Louis. Or up into the light, or wherever we go when we’re done here on earth.”
The floorboard thumped again.
We stood there, arm in arm, giving the place one more look.
This property had ended up being just a pit stop in our lives. Our future was elsewhere.
Tyler rumbled, “Are you ready, girl?”
I nodded. “I sure am. Let’s go home.”
Two years later.
Tyler.
Baby Portia was cooing on my hip.
Ava and Abby had run up ahead, leaving Silas and me behind.
In the long run, Ava and I had gotten married. We’d had a tiny ceremony out at the Little Pink Wedding Chapel, a place some of her friends owned.
Ava had refrained from inviting the whole town on my account. It had been a simple wedding, with her friend Becky officiating the ceremony.
In my eyes, it had been perfect. Then nine months later, like clockwork, she’d spit out our little one.
She’d insisted on the name Portia after some Roman ancestors in her family tree from a bazillion years ago. So, I’d insisted on the name Bella as her middle name. So she could PortiaBella. Almost like the mushroom.
Somehow, Ava had let me get away with that.
Portia completed us. Completed me.
I’d never known what fatherhood would do to a man.
It had been bad enough, loving Ava so hard it hurt. Then Portia came along, and I couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. Without either of them in it.
But I was getting distracted.
Silas grunted, “You ready?”
“Not yet. You go on ahead. I’d like a minute out here to see if Cordelia comes back.”
She’d been quiet ever since they’d moved her remains to Saint Louis.
Silas said, “You know… I haven’t mentioned this to Abby. But Cordelia comes back every Halloween. I think she just comes to say hi. The rest of the year I don’t sense her at all.”
A big smile spread across my face. “Maybe next Halloween I can come visit and chat with her, too.”
Silas nodded. “Yup.”
Then he grunted and headed back over to the main house.
I sat down on the couch with Portia in my lap and looked around. It was still my old couch, even though it was Silas’ couch now.
He’d converted the old place into an art space, like he’d said he would. There was room for an artist to sleep, eat, shower, and create. And the space was quiet for them.
Or…quiet enough.
The walls weren’t lined with art, though. Instead, there were reproduction prints of photographs covering the walls. All the photos were of Cordelia, Orson, Wallace, and their kin.
Silas had even printed up a living history of their story so everyone who visited knew all about Cordelia and her tale.
It felt right somehow.
I sat out there for a long time, having a one-sided conversation with Cordelia, although I wasn’t sure if she heard me.
Then, Ava showed back up, wandering in like a spring breeze.
She found her favorite spot on the couch and took Portia from my arms. Then she asked me, “How are you doing, big guy?”
“Good. I was just thinking about old memories.” I pulled a wrapped package from my backpack. “I got you something. I think it’s fitting to give it to you here, since this is where our love affair got started.”
Her eyes lit up, and she got a questioning look on her face. “It’s not my birthday.”
“I know. Just open it.”
She carefully tugged the wrapping paper off, then gasped and held the book to her chest. “You finally found it!”
I’d been searching for a copy of Irma’s Big Lie for an eternity now.
“Yep. This one’s for you and baby Portia to read together once she gets a little older. Like a tradition.”
Ava leaned her head on my shoulder while Portia hummed on her lap. “It’s perfect, Tyler. Thank you.”
“You know, I never quite told you what happened with my hip,” I rumbled, my voice going lower than usual.
She glanced down at my legs and back up again. “Is it twinging you?”
“Naw.” I’d almost fully recovered. It only hurt on the coldest of winter nights now, and I’d managed to retire the cane. “I meant how it happened.”
Ava leaned forward. “You’re finally going to tell me.”
I let out a deep breath. “It’s not a good story. And it doesn’t involve forgetting to put my seatbelt on.”
“I knew that. But I let you get away with it because I know some things are hard to talk about. Whatever happened must have been bad.”
“Our helicopter got shot down. We were pretty low to the ground, which is the only reason any of us survived. Not all of us were that lucky though…”
I went on with my story, telling her all the grim details.
The details that had caused me to pull away from the world.
Away from life.
And in the end, when I was clearing my throat, and blinking fast, she wrapped her arms around me.
The three of us sat there until the sun set outside, and the cicadas started singing.
Then, when it was finally time, we gathered ourselves up and headed out.
But before we could shut the door, we heard one tiny thump from the floorboard in the bedroom.
Cordelia had come to say goodbye.
Can Thatcher and Shelby patch up their fight after they start off on the wrong foot? Find out in Autumn Feud With The Mountain Man.