CHAPTER TWENTY #2
The table chuckles as everyone who didn’t know stands to hug and congratulate the pair.
Amidst the chaos I see Haden shake Nash’s hand before telling Wade he’s going to take a plate of breakfast to the guys that couldn’t make it up to the house.
I watch as he hugs CeCe and smiles wide at her.
It’s the biggest smile I’ve seen him wear since that night we were together, and I have to admit, it’s just as beautiful as I remember. Maybe even more so.
He makes his way over to me before he heads out, and I can’t help but wonder what is going on behind those eyes as they focus intently on me.
“Take a few days to settle in,” he says, before adding: “And Ivy is right. It’s a good idea to ride. Horses—well, all animals really—they help with trauma.”
“Then I guess all I need is Silver Pines,” I say as I fold my arms over my chest, one eyebrow raised.
“Look. I love your family, and they want to see you get better.” His gaze is serious, which makes me nervous. “But I have two rules. I ride early, and you do what I say so I can keep you safe. Which means no social media stunts. I’ll see you Monday morning. Meet me at the main barn at seven a.m.”
“Seven?” I ask incredulously. These days, I rarely get up before noon.
Haden smirks at me, but it’s the kind of smirk that tells me he probably thinks I’m spoiled.
“Yes, Princess, seven,” he says before turning away from me. “Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.” I say just loud enough for the people in my surrounding area to hear, but Haden doesn’t turn back.
It’s like he can’t get out of here fast enough.
Olivia snickers beside me. I look over at her and return her smile.
She might have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen.
Her auburn waves fall around her shoulders as she leans in.
“There’s definitely a story there. So if you ever feel like talking about it …” She picks up my cell from beside my plate and passes it to me. I look down at it, then back to her questioningly. She smiles again. “I’m giving you my number.”
“Oh,” I say, unlocking my phone and handing it to her. She types for a second then hands it back and we start to clear the breakfast plates. As we approach the kitchen, Olivia wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“I put Ginger’s number in there too. And if you ever feel like having some real fun, we have this thing here at our local bar called Sangria Sundays …”
By the time I’ve finished unpacking it’s after six o’clock.
This cabin might be the smallest little one-bedroom on the property, but it suits me just fine.
The living room and kitchen are open-plan and there are no upper cabinets in the rustic space, only open wooden shelves where glassware and plates are stacked on display.
Each one was carefully washed by Ivy and my mama, who’s currently busy putting food away, before I even arrived.
There’s a butcher block peninsula in the kitchen that divides the space from the dining area and small living room.
A heavy wooden mantel above the fireplace is the centerpiece Ivy says is in every cabin.
There is firewood lined up beside it for me, as if I have any idea how to build my own fire.
It looks pretty, nonetheless. There isn’t much furniture—just an overstuffed dark sofa and loveseat around a rustic square coffee table.
“You should be stocked up for a little while. You’ve got the staples, at least.”
I smile at my mama. “As long as there’s coffee.”
“And fruit, eggs and veggies. I’ve learned over the last few years, the best way to keep your mind healthy is to also keep your body healthy. You been keeping up with your yoga?”
I shake my head. “I have a Pelaton in my Nashville apartment. That’s as close as I get.” And I’m barely ever there..
“Well, here you have all the peace you’ll ever need. No one will ruffle your feathers unless you want them to.”
I glance out of the picture window to the front of the cabin, and glimpse Haden’s porch. I wonder if he ever sits on it. I remember my first time here and the coffee mug I noticed when I was walking by. I wonder how I’ll ever stop wondering about him, with him living so close to me.
“You think so?” I hear my mama say as she makes her way over to sit down beside me.
My eyes snap to hers. “Huh?” I ask.
She grins. Her short dark bob is tucked behind her ears, and her blue eyes crinkle in the corners. “You heard none of that?”
I pat her arm with a sigh. “Sorry, Mama, I’m drained.”
Her blue eyes analyze mine.
“I let you down, Cass,” she says after a moment of silence has passed.
“Mama—”
“I don’t want you to respond, I just want you to listen. I let you down. For a long time. But despite that, you still turned into the strongest, most beautiful woman.” Her eyes fill with tears. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but those days are over. I’m here for you now, baby. Please just let me.”
She places her hand over mine and, for the first time in more than ten years, I feel like I have my mama back. It’s at this moment I decide that whatever happened before is in the past.
I squeeze her hand back. “What did Daddy always say? You can’t ever move backward.”
“Only forward,” she finishes.
“That sounds good,” I say with a nod.
“I can stay tonight if you want. We can watch a movie?”
“No Mama, go out with Jo.” She already told me they have their weekly crochet club tonight.
“You sure?”
I let out a small laugh. “Yes, I’m sure. I think I want to be alone for my first night anyway.”
“Alrighty. I’ll get out of your hair then. But I’ll be back at my cabin around ten if you need anything,” she says as she walks toward the door. She turns the lamp on for me to brighten the room with the setting sun. “I left you some of my special soup in the fridge too, honey.”
I sit down on the surprisingly comfortable sofa and breathe out a sigh. “Thank you, Mama.”
She blows me a kiss, then closes the door behind her and I sit for a few minutes, letting everything wash over me.
My mother is so different now. She was always incredible when I was very young, but after my daddy died, she was broken.
It was hard. I always had Ivy and I know my mom did her best not to drink a lot until after we went to bed.
But we knew. By the time I was sixteen, she needed taking care of.
Now she’s taking care of me again. Funny how life can flip and come all the way full-circle when you aren’t even looking.
I glance out of the window again. There aren’t any lights on in Haden’s cabin.
Where is he? Still working? I think of his face today, and the look in his eyes when he spoke.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself really remember him.
The way he touched me that night. The way I felt so alive when his mouth met mine.
I let out a frustrated groan at the thought.
He’s probably moved on to some new woman by now.
I heat up my soup and scroll through my phone as I eat, reading messages from Dax that remind me to post some clips from recent shows to my socials.
There’s a message from Cherry asking how I am, but I don’t know her well enough to tell her I’m still sort of a wreck.
So I just let her know I’m visiting family.
By the time I’m done eating, and have taken a long hot shower in my cute little white subway-tiled bathroom, I curl up to watch a romcom and wish I knew how to start a fire to help with the chill in this old cabin.
No movie feels quite right and the slow, steady seep of anxiety starts to creep in through the silence.
I do my best to push the vision of the woman’s eyes from my mind.
They were brown. They were afraid. Unable to keep still, I stand and start doing a sweep of the cabin.
There has to be alcohol in here somewhere, right?
I scan the kitchen cabinets, and when I see a bottle of expensive bourbon in the bottom corner of one of them, I breathe a sigh of relief. Definitely liking my new almost brother-in-law more as I read the accompanying note.
“This shit is potent, drink with caution.”
Perfect.
I pop the corked top and tag a swig right from the bottle. Then another. It’s the bourbon I had at their house in the fall. Damn, that’s good.
I pour a small glass and decide a change of scenery is best to calm my frayed nerves.
Tossing on my slippers and my heavy coat, I move out to the front porch.
The moment I breathe in the late-night winter air, the heaviness in my chest subsides a little.
I sit on one of the two rocking chairs and take in my surroundings while listening to the creak of the chair against the wooden floor and some coyotes howling.
I use the therapy notes milling about in my head to imagine what I’m going through as a rain cloud, full and heavy.
I picture the Ashby family, and use that to imagine clouds parting, letting a stream of sunlight in.
Then I imagine how the warmth of that sun would feel on my face.
I blink after a few seconds—feeling calmer and more settled—before glancing at Haden’s cabin.
His truck still isn’t there, and I almost wish it was.
I have no idea why, but it would make me feel a little more settled knowing he was home.
I nearly jump out of my skin when my phone vibrates with a text. Too fucking quiet here. I flip it over and see it’s from Dax. Hard pass.
But over the next thirty minutes he keeps texting. And then a few minutes later, he calls me.
“I’m on R&R time,” I remind him when I answer. I was feeling lighter than I’ve felt for eight months before his message popped up.
“Cassie, you’re gonna want to look at the video I just sent you. And don’t freak out. We can get ahead of this.”