Chapter 2 #2
“You’re welcome. Shout if you need anything else.”
“Will do.” I bow my head. “Lord, I ask that you bless this food. Let it nourish my body. Thank You for the wondrous blessings you bestow upon me. I pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Amen,” Riley says beside me.
I pour the dressing over the top of my salad and mix it in, then take my first bite.
It’s the first time I’ve eaten today since my breakfast consisted of a protein shake after my run, then a mad dash out the front door so I wouldn’t be late to the Saturday staff meeting at the school where I teach kindergarten.
“Any big plans today?” Riley asks.
I finish chewing and swallowing my current bite. “Just preparations for the school’s fall festival. Then I’m headed over to Charlene’s place for a bit.”
“How is she doing?”
“Not great,” I reply sadly. Charlene Thomas lost her husband of nearly sixty years last month.
She’s been struggling with depression, on top of the Alzheimer’s that’s been slowly pulling her further and further away from us.
Most of the time, she forgets to do basic tasks, so even though she has a full-time nurse, I still head over at least once a day to sit with her and help wherever I can.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”
“Actually, if you have time, her back porch has a couple of loose railings. She likes to take tea out there every afternoon, and I’m honestly worried that she’s going to fall through one of these days.”
“Consider it done.” He smiles.
“Thanks so much.” I open my notepad and check off the line that says ‘Get Charlene’s Porch Fixed.’ Because if one of the Hunts says they’ll do something, it’s as good as done.
“You had that on your to-do list?” he asks, amused.
“I did. It’s been on there for the last couple of days. I’ve fallen a bit behind. It’s actually happenstance I ran into you because I was going to call Bradyn this afternoon.”
“You and those lists,” he says with a laugh.
“Don’t mock. They keep me organized.”
“I bet you still add ‘make a list’ to your lists.”
I glare at him, though a smile turns up the corners of my lips. “That happened one time. Dylan never let me live it down.” His name used to roll so easily off my lips. Now, it’s like a boulder falling on my toe. My happiness dies just a bit, so I turn my attention back to my salad.
“You okay?” Riley questions.
“Fine.” I say it a bit sharper than I mean to, so I offer him a smile. “I’m completely okay,” I add.
“Alright. Well, you know that I’m here if you need me. We all are.”
“Thanks, Riley.” Even though Dylan is their brother, they all supported me during the months when Dylan was in rehab. During that whole year, after the initial hospital visit ended horribly, I’d waited for the day Dylan would call and want to see me again, but it’s a call that never came.
“No problem.” He offers me a smile, then returns to his book, so I finish eating in silence, all while my mind constantly replays the moments I had with Dylan before everything fell apart.
“Well, well, Ma, what are you working on?” I playfully hold up a small pair of crocheted socks.
“I don’t want to forget,” Charlene replies, a sheepish smile on her aging face. The floral couch she’s sitting on is one I’ve spent more than a few nights on since her husband’s passing. It also happens to be nearly the same pale pink as the dress she’s currently wearing.
“Forget what? How to crochet?”
“No, about the baby.”
“What baby?”
Charlene’s expression turns frustrated. Which means that she’s grasping at something I’m not comprehending and doesn’t understand why I don’t understand.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I say quickly. “Sorry, the baby, of course. Tell me about the baby.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “You know all about the baby, Emmaline. It is yours, after all.”
Mine. “Oh?” I glance back at Ursula, her nurse, who simply smiles sadly.
“Yes. Yours and that Hunt boy—Dylan. How could I forget his name?” She snaps her fingers. “That kid was running around after you from the time he could walk.”
My chest tightens. How many times did I dream about being married to Dylan? About carrying his child and being the one he turned to when things got hard? Instead, during his darkest moments, he pushed me away.
“Ma, Dylan and Emma aren’t together anymore,” her nurse says carefully. “Remember?”
Charlene looks at me, confusion in her blue gaze. “Not together anymore. Since when?”
“Quite a few years, Ma,” Ursula says, once again using Charlene’s pet name. She was an elementary school teacher up until she retired, and everyone has always called her Ma. Even the students called her Ma Thomas instead of Mrs. Thomas. “They haven’t been together in a long time.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. You were going to be married, remember? Baby’s breath and lilacs.”
It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, because if I’d been standing, I imagine I would have fallen over, thanks to the weakness in my legs. Embarrassment, sadness, it all hits me as I look at her broken expression.
“Those were just plans,” I tell her, trying to keep a friendly smile on my face even as my bottom lip quivers just slightly. Walking her through this is like reliving it all over again. And the pain is just as fresh today as it was then. “Sometimes, plans don’t work out.”
“No. You two were more than plans. You were fated. Just like me and my love. I saw it. I saw it.” She shakes her head, then lifts her crochet project again.
As she begins working the hook through the yarn, she smiles and mutters happily to herself, lost in whatever daydream she’s currently walking in.
Maybe in her version of reality, Dylan and I are still together. Maybe we’re having a child.
Would the young one have his hazel eyes? Crooked smile?
Because just thinking about it has me in desperate need of air, I push up from the chair and head into the kitchen to place my glass of tea in the sink.
Outside, I can hear Riley working on the porch.
The occasional nail being shot into place has taken up a good portion of the time I’ve been here.
I keep meaning to pop out and thank him for being so quick to get over here, but I haven’t had the chance yet.
“You okay, honey?” Ursula questions. She was close friends with my mom, having also grown up here in Pine Creek.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“She’s only thinking about Dylan since she saw him earlier.”
“When did she see him?” Since Charlene doesn’t tend to get out, it would be unusual for her to see Dylan, who rarely leaves the ranch, aside from Sunday mornings or missions for Hunt Brothers Search and Rescue.
Ursula looks at me, confused. “He’s outside.” She points to the porch. “I thought you knew.”
“I—” And then it hits me—Riley. Mischievous troublemaker.
Ugh. Despite not wanting to speak his brother’s name around me, he’s always trying to put Dylan in my path.
Likely because he hopes that, one day, what’s broken will be repaired.
What he doesn’t realize, though, is that, even if Dylan offered to give me the time of day, I don’t know that I would be interested.
He broke too much of me to put back together.
She arches a brow. “Didn’t you ask him to fix the porch?”
“I asked Riley. I’ll be right back.” Forcing a smile onto my face, I open the back door and step out onto the porch.
As I do, my mouth dries.
Dylan’s back is to me, his white tank top drenched with sweat. Scars snake out of the edges of the shirt, climbing onto his shoulder blades. It’s the first I’ve seen of the physical damage done to him all those years ago.
And my eyes fill at the sight of it.
The muscles of his back contract as he works with a piece of lumber that’s straddling two sawhorses. He slips a pencil behind his ear, then turns to face me, stopping abruptly when he sees me standing there.
Hazel eyes so piercing they steal the very air around me level on mine.
He’s always had this power over me. The ability to make everything and everyone else around me disappear—similar to how I feel when I read a book. Maybe that’s why I loved him so much. His ability to block out the noise and ground me in the present.
“I asked Riley to fix this,” I blurt.
“Riley’s busy.” He lifts the piece of lumber and carries it up to the porch, then lays it in place and uses a nail gun to fix it in place.
“I didn’t mean for you to do it.”
Dylan doesn’t verbally respond, just nods.
“You don’t have to do it.”
“I don’t mind.”
It’s hard to believe we used to talk for hours when he can barely utter three words to me in a single sentence these days.
“Fine.” Hating myself for letting it get under my skin even after all this time, I turn on my heel and head back into the house. Ursula is getting Charlene to her feet.
“Emmaline! Dearest girl, when did you get here?”
Tears filling my eyes and emotions searing my throat, I force a smile. “Not too long ago, Ma. Are you off to take your afternoon nap?”
Her expression turns regretful. “I was, but you just got here. Why don’t we have some tea?”
“You know? I actually just got a call and need to head out. Can I take a rain check?”
“Of course, honey. You go do what needs to be done. You’re such a good girl. Give your parents my love, okay?”
“Okay,” I choke out, still doing everything I can to keep the smile on my face and tears out of my eyes while Ursula guides her down the hallway and to her bedroom.
I grab my purse and head out front, walking right past the Hunt Family Ranch truck parked in front of my car.
As I climb inside, I close my eyes and bow my head.
“Lord, please grant me the strength. Please take this pain. I don’t know how I can keep carrying it.
I feel crazy. Please, God. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.”
After wiping the tears that I couldn’t quite blink away, I pull away from the curb in front of Charlene’s house and head back toward mine. Back to my carefully crafted world where everything makes sense and I’ve hidden away all traces of Dylan Hunt.