Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Chase
The dart hits the bullseye again, and Knox lets out a groan that echoes through Timber Tavern.
"That's six in a row, Morrison. You're either getting better, or I'm getting worse."
"Both," Travis calls from the bar, where he's demolishing a burger that's roughly the size of his head. "Definitely both."
I retrieve my darts and step back, letting Knox take his turn.
Friday night at Timber is exactly what I need after the week from hell. The low rumble of conversation, the cozy warmth of the fireplace, the kind of easy company that doesn't demand anything from me except showing up.
Helps that the tavern is packed tonight.
Even Betty's here. She's claimed a booth with Etta and Mabel, the three of them hunched over what looks like wedding planning materials, which can only mean some poor soul in town is about to get ambushed with unsolicited advice.
The young kid, Sam's behind the bar with Charlie, learning to mix cocktails with the kind of intense focus usually reserved for defusing bombs.
The kid's gotten good. Charlie's teaching him well.
The smell of slow-roasted brisket and caramelized onions wafts in from the kitchen, tonight's special dish mingling with the woodsmoke and the ever-present smell of vanilla-bourbon, or whatever craft beer Charlie's pushing this week.
I line up my next throw.
"So." Knox releases his dart. It hits the outer ring. "You gonna talk about it, or we doing the strong, silent suffering thing all night?"
"What's there to talk about?"
"Oh, I don't know." Travis wipes burger grease from his chin. "How about the fact that you've been moping around like someone kicked your puppy for the last five days?"
I throw my dart and hit Bullseye again.
Knox swears under his breath.
"I'm not moping."
"You're absolutely moping," Jamie says, appearing at my elbow with a beer I didn't ask for.
He sets it on the high-top table beside the dartboard and gives me that look. The one that says he sees right through my bullshit but he's going to let me keep pretending for now.
"Appreciate the support, boss."
"Just calling it like I see it." Jamie leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching Knox's next throw go completely wide. "You've run every extra shift I've offered, volunteered for inventory twice, and reorganized the entire supply closet by expiration date."
"You said that needed doing."
"It really didn't. It was a test to see how mopey you were."
Travis snorts into his beer.
Fuck.
Have I really been that bad this week? I thought I'd been doing a good job hiding it all. Keeping it bottled up like I'm used to doing.
It's been five days since I watched Piper walk into the terminal without looking back. Five days since I stood in the departures lane like an idiot, hoping she'd turn around and tell me I'm right, and that she'll stay.
But… she didn't.
I throw the dart and it hits just left of center. My first miss all night.
"There we go," Knox says triumphantly. "Proof you're human after all."
Charlie shuffles over beside our table like some kind of flannel-wearing wizard, appearing out of nowhere and setting down a tray of loaded nachos that smell incredible.
The cheese is still bubbling, jalapenos scattered across the top like little green landmines, with dollops of sour cream and guacamole that looks homemade. Charlie doesn't do anything halfway.
"Gentlemen." He slides the tray into the center of the table. "You looked like you needed sustenance."
"We didn't order anything," I grunt.
"I know what you need better than you do." Charlie winks and disappears back toward the bar, where Sam's attempting to flip a cocktail shaker and nearly brains himself with it.
Travis immediately grabs a loaded chip, strings of cheese stretching obscenely as he pulls it toward his mouth. "God, I love this place."
"You love any place that feeds you," Knox points out. "Speaking of hungry bears, where's Beau?"
"Babysitting duty," Jamie says, grinning. "Molly needed someone to watch Maisie while she helps her sister with something. Beau drew the short straw."
"Beau Callahan. With a seven-year-old." Travis shakes his head. "I still can't believe that's a thing. Surely that's a disaster waiting to happen."
"Or, because Chase is moping around, it'll be the funniest thing that'll happen all week," Knox adds. "Twenty bucks says Maisie has him wearing a tiara by bedtime."
"I'm not moping!"
"Fifty says she's already convinced him to play tea party," Jamie counters, ignoring my like the rest of these assholes.
I take a pull from the beer Jamie brought. It's one of Charlie's newer craft selections, something hoppy with notes of citrus that's probably got some ridiculous name like Mountain Mist IPA or Timber's Tears.
It's good, though. Everything Charlie serves is good.
Jamie settles into the chair across from me, stretching his legs out. "Brooke's meeting us in a bit. She got held up with a patient at the station."
"How's she doing?"
"Good. Great, actually."
Something soft crosses Jamie's face. The same expression he gets whenever he talks about Brooke. Like he still can't quite believe she chose to stay.
If only I could have convinced my girl to stay.
"She's talking about expanding the clinic," Jamie continues. "Maybe hiring another nurse."
The word nurse hits different than it should, and I grab another dart to stop thinking about the prospect of Piper being that 'other nurse.'
Knox leans against the wall beside me, arms crossed. "So when does your girl get in tonight? I'm assuming you're ditching us the second she lands."
The dart slips from my fingertips but I catch it before it hits the floor.
"What?"
Knox smirks and shakes his head. "Piper. You know, the hip to your hop. The ying to your yang."
"Oh." I frown. "She's not coming."
The words come out flat, like I'm reporting the weather at morning brief back at the station.
Travis is so shocked, he drops his dart. It bounces off the toe of his boot and clatters across the hardwood floor.
"What do you mean she's not coming?" Knox's voice goes sharp. "It's Friday."
"She's got a thing in Chicago."
"A thing?"
I line up another throw, but my hand's not steady. There's a reason I haven't told the guys why Piper's not here. Why she's not coming. I didn't want this.
"I thought she liked coming here." Knox's voice remains too high-pitched for a bearded mountain man. "Hoity-toity as she is, but still."
I shrug and take aim again. "Yeah, well. She's got some gala. For her parents' foundation."
"And she chose that over—" Travis gestures vaguely at the tavern, at Stone River, at me. "Over this?"
"Apparently."
The dart hits the board. Outer ring. Shit.
"And you're pissed she didn't tell you," Knox says.
Jamie's watching me with that look that makes me feel like I'm back in basic training, getting evaluated by a drill sergeant who can see every weakness I'm doing my damn best to hide.
"Oh dear. I know a fight when I see one. What happened?" he asks.
I retrieve my darts, taking my time, remembering it all. Betty hasn't left me alone all week after witnessing the way-too-public outburst we shared over breakfast on Sunday.
"I'm pissed she lied." The words rush out, desperate to escape after a week of being bottled up. "She stood there at the lookout, agreed to go to the Harvest Dance with me, knowing she'd already committed to Chicago. She let me—"
I stop.
She let me fall in love with her while planning to leave.
I don't say that part out loud.
Travis grabs another nacho, but he's not eating it. Just holding it, cheese dripping onto the plate. "Did you talk to her about it?"
"Yeah. Sunday morning, before her flight."
"And?"
"And I told her she had to choose. This or Chicago." I down half my beer in one pull. "And she chose Chicago. So here I am, moping around with you assholes."
The silence that follows is heavy enough to sink ships.
Then Brooke's voice slices through the tension, and all four of us practically launch ourselves into orbit.
"Are you kidding me right now?"
I turn, heart suddenly racing from the fucking fright she just gave me.
"Brooke, fuck…" Jamie huffs, still clutching his chest. "You scared us."
She's standing at the edge of our table, still in her rescue doctor scrubs, hair pulled back in a messy bun, and she looks like she's about to murder me with her stethoscope.
Jamie stands, recovering from his mini-heartattack, dropping a kiss on her temple. "Hey, babe."
"Don't 'hey babe' me." She swats his chest, then rounds on me. "You gave her an ultimatum?"
"No." I grunt, stepping away from Brooke's advancing death stare. "I gave her a choice."
"No… you gave her an ultimatum." Brooke backs me up against the wall.
I swear to God her eyes are glowing red as she pulls her phone out with the kind of aggressive energy that usually precedes someone getting their ass handed to them.
"And I thought you were good for her. That you understood her.
Do you have any idea how terrified she is of disappointing her parents? "
"She told me about the pressure—"
"And you responded by adding more?" Brooke's scrolling through her messages now, her jaw tight. "Real supportive, Chase. Well done."
Guilt twists in my gut, but I push it down. "She lied to me, Brooke."
"She was scared." Brooke shoves her phone in my face. "Read."
I don't want to.
I really, really don't want to. I've been trying so damn hard to even forget that Piper exists this week. A text here and there, but not like it was.
Jamie's watching me with that look again, and Knox has gone quiet. Travis is stress-eating nachos like the world's about to end.
So I pick up the phone.
The messages are from today. All day, actually, starting at six this morning and continuing through this afternoon.
Piper: Fuck me. Mom's assistant sent another reminder about the fitting. Third one this week!
Piper: Do you think it's possible to be homesick for a place that isn't home?
Piper: I miss the mountains.