Chapter Seventeen
MATT
My heart races as the helicopter touches down at the airport. After three-and-a-half long months away, I've been planning this surprise for weeks, juggling shift changes while praying for pleasant weather.
As I hurry to board the plane to Craig, I feel nervous. If anything goes wrong now, all my plans to surprise Eliza for Valentine's Day will be ruined.
Luck is on my side, and the flight lands on time in Craig. As I step off the plane, I spot Hank waiting for me with a smile on his weathered face.
“Well, well,” he drawls, eyeing my duffel bag. “If it isn't the prodigal son-in-law-to-be. Ready to make a teacher's day?” he asks as we climb into his plane.
“I'm more than ready,” I say. “Thanks for helping me pull this off.”
Hank winks as he preps to take off. “Ah, don't mention it. I'm a sucker for a good love story.” Then, with a more serious expression, he turns to me. “You're doing the right thing, kid. That girl's been working herself to the bone, between teaching and helping her mama. She needs this.”
A lump forms in my throat. “I know. I hope I can make it special for her.”
Hank starts up the engine, chuckling. “Son, you could show up empty-handed and covered in fish guts, and Eliza would still think it was special. That's what love does to a person.”
As we move down the runway, the nervousness in my stomach is replaced by excited anticipation. Soon, I'll be reuniting with Eliza, and nothing else matters.
The flight to Port Promise seems to take forever, but eventually, I spot the coastline.
This time, the ride isn't nearly as nerve-wracking as it used to be.
Months ago, the idea of flying over endless water had my stomach in knots.
But now, it feels almost routine; the fear has been replaced by a steady calm.
Hank expertly lands the floatplane and cruises to the dock.
As I climb out, he calls after me, “Remember, if anyone asks, you parachuted in! Makes for a better story!”
Shaking my head and laughing, I check my watch. Perfect timing.
As I approach the community center, excitement stirs with each step. I can hear Eliza's voice, clear and animated, as I near her classroom. I step into the doorway.
Eliza's back is to me as she writes on the chalkboard, her hand moving smoothly as she talks.
“And that's why the salmon's life cycle is so important to our ecosystem,” she says, her voice steady and clear, but all I can focus on is her.
After months apart, the sight of her hits me harder than I expected.
She looks how I remember, and yet somehow more. The curve of her shoulders, the way a few strands of hair have escaped her ponytail and brush the back of her neck—it's as if time stood still while I was gone, waiting for me to come back to her.
For a moment, I stand there, taking her in and feeling grateful for the chance to lay eyes on her again. My heart pounds as I take a step closer, trying to steady my voice. “Excuse me, Ms. Hollister,” I say. “I have a question about salmon.”
Eliza freezes, then turns around. Her expression shifts from disbelief to pure joy. “Matt?” she whispers.
The next thing I know, she's thrown herself into my arms and I'm lifting her off her feet, spinning her around as her students cheer and giggle.
Holding her again feels like everything is clicking into place.
The feel of her against me—it's like I've been carrying this heaviness I didn't even know was there, and now it's gone.
The world narrows down to her, the sound of her laughter in my ear, and the way her arms wrap tightly around my neck.
For the first time in months, everything feels right.
“Surprise,” I say. “Happy Valentine's Day, love.”
Realizing where we are, Eliza wiggles, and I set her down, her feet finding the ground as she steps back, her cheeks flushed. She turns to her class, who are all watching.
“Well,” she says, her voice filled with happiness and amusement, “I guess we have a special guest today. Class, this is Mr. Ryder, my fiancé. He works on an oil rig, and he's come to visit us for Valentine's Day.”
The children burst into a flurry of questions, their hands shooting up in the air. Eliza, ever the teacher, uses this situation as a learning opportunity.
“Alright, let's have an orderly Q&A session,” she says, regaining control of the class. “We'll take five questions for Mr. Ryder, and then we need to finish our lesson before you go home.”
I spend the next several minutes answering questions from Eliza's students about life on the rig—how oil is extracted, what it's like living out at sea, and, of course, whether I've seen any great white sharks. Their curiosity is infectious, and I smile more than I have in months.
But even as I talk, I'm keenly aware of Eliza nearby.
After months spent in isolation on the rig, surrounded by nothing but the noise of machinery and endless ocean, being here in this lively room feels almost surreal.
The stark contrast between the cold, impersonal life offshore, and her classroom—the energy of young minds eager to learn—makes it hard not to feel overwhelmed. And then there's Eliza.
Being in the same room with her again after so long .
.. it’s like taking a breath after being underwater.
Every time I glance her way, a calmness washes over me, grounding me in a way I haven’t felt in what seems like forever.
I’ve missed this—missed her. The feeling of belonging, of being part of something more than survival and routine.
As the day ends, Eliza oversees her students' departures, making sure each child is safely collected.
She hands each one a Valentine's card, her expression warm and patient as they excitedly clutch the little notes.
I wait patiently, admiring how she handles everything with grace and care.
It reminds me of the first time I met her—during that storm and avalanche.
She was a rock then, as she is now. Calm and in control on the outside, even though I know there's a storm of emotions swirling inside her.
As the students leave, Eliza turns back to me, her eyes shining with love and happiness.
“You're here,” she says, taking my hands in hers. “How did you manage this?”
I pull her close, intending a soft kiss, but I press my lips to hers with all the longing I've bottled up for months. The kiss is intense, and full of everything we've been holding back—every missed moment, every whispered wish, every dream of this reunion.
When we pull apart, both of us breathless, I say, “I had some help from your brothers. They thought you could use a surprise.”
She blinks up at me, still catching her breath, and then a smile spreads across her face. “My brothers knew and said nothing? I'm impressed they kept the secret.”
“Well,” I say, “that's kind of how surprises work.”
Hand in hand, we walk to Eliza's parked ATV.
“So, how long do I get to keep you?” she asks.
I heft my duffel bag. “I got three days off. It's not much, but I wanted to be here on Valentine's Day. Now, where can I stow this?”
Eliza pops open the storage compartment at the back of her ATV. “Right in here. It's a tight fit, but it should work.”
As I squeeze my duffel into the compartment, Eliza hesitates for a moment, then says, “I hope you don't mind dinner at my parents'. I usually eat with them on Tuesdays, and Mom always makes extra.”
I’m touched by her consideration. “That sounds perfect. I'd love to see them.”
We climb onto the ATV, and as we drive toward her parents' house on the wooden path, I can't help but wonder if the brothers have any more surprises in store.
As we approach the Hollister house, I see Grace and Peter waiting on the porch, their faces showing surprise. Eliza parks, and we exit.
Grace's face lights up as she calls out, “Matt? What a wonderful surprise! It's so great to see you both!”
Peter steps forward, his expression a mix of surprise and delight. “Well, well, look who's here. Come on in, you two. I'm sure we can stretch dinner to accommodate a surprise guest.”
As we step inside, I'm greeted by a chorus of “Surprise!” The living room is packed with Hollisters—Kane, Hailey, Rhys, Reid, Nash, and Finn are all there, beaming with excitement.
Eliza gasps beside me, her hand tightening on mine. “What's going on?” she asks, looking around in astonishment.
Kane steps forward, clapping me on the shoulder. “When Matt told us he was coming to surprise you, we couldn't resist turning it into a family celebration.”
Rhys adds with a wink, “Consider this our way of welcoming Matt to the family. Hope you don't mind us crashing your Valentine's Day plans, sis.”
Eliza shakes her head, laughing. “This is unreal. I've been surprised twice in one day!”
I pull her close. “Looks like your brothers managed to out-surprise both of us.”
Peter, still looking pleasantly surprised, chuckles. “Well, I'll be. You boys certainly know how to keep a secret. Now, let's eat before Grace's famous pot roast gets cold.”
The house is filled with laughter and the mouthwatering aroma of dinner. As we gather around the table, I'm struck by how seamlessly I've been folded into this family, and how they've turned my surprise for Eliza into an even bigger celebration.
Midway through dinner, Grace puts down her fork. “Oh, I know the wedding is in two months, but I can't contain myself any longer, and since Matt’s here, I don’t think I have to!”
I glance at Eliza, wondering if she knows what's coming, but her expression is neutral. “What is it, Grace?” I ask, turning back to her.
She beams at me. “You're not the only one with a surprise.” Clapping her hands together, she adds, “Your house in Serenity Cove is almost complete.”
“What?” I turn to Eliza, expecting to see the same shock on her face, but I find her biting her lip, trying to suppress a smile.
“You knew?” I ask, incredulous.
Eliza grins. “I've been bursting to tell you for weeks. It's been so hard keeping it to myself!”
Peter laughs. “It's been a family project. We wanted to give you two the best start possible.”
I'm overwhelmed, speechless in the face of their generosity.
When I glance at Eliza, I notice the way her shoulders tense, and she breathes deeply, as if trying to steady herself.
Her lips are pressed together, the way she does when she's holding back her emotions.
It's clear this touches her as much as it does me.
After dinner, Eliza tugs on my hand. “Come on,” she whispers. “I want to show you something.”
We slip out, and Eliza leads me to a snowmobile in the garage.
My heart pounds with a different excitement now.
I've been waiting for this—for a moment where it's only the two of us, away from everything and everyone.
The thought of being alone with her, of escaping to somewhere quiet, makes the anticipation almost unbearable.
As we climb on, I laugh. “You know, the last time I arrived in Port Promise on a snowmobile, things didn't turn out so great.”
Eliza turns to me, eyebrow raised. “Wait a minute. You met me and fell in love. How is that not going well?”
I laugh, pulling her close. “You're right, as always. Best thing that ever happened to me.”
As we glide through the snowy landscape, the world is hushed and beautiful under its white covering. “We'd normally take the ATV,” she yells over the engine, “but the wooden path to our place won't be put in until summer. We'll take a shortcut through the woods on this.”
The thrill of the ride mixes with the excitement building inside me.
As we approach Serenity Cove, my heart races with anticipation.
Rounding a bend, I see it—our house, nestled among snow-covered trees, like something out of a winter fairytale.
A rush of emotion hits me, and without thinking, I pull her closer, imagining what this place will hold for us.
Laughter by the fire, quiet mornings with coffee, the life we're going to build here.
It's more than a house—it's the beginning of everything.
“It's perfect,” I say, taking in the wraparound porch, the large windows reflecting the moonlight off the snow.
Eliza parks the snowmobile and pulls me toward the front door, fishing a key out of her pocket. “I've been dying to show you this.”
She unlocks the door and starts to push it open, but I catch her hand, stopping her. “Wait,” I say. “I think this calls for a tradition.”
Before she can ask what I mean, I scoop her up in my arms. Eliza laughs, the sound ringing out like music in the crisp air and throws her arms around my neck as I carry her through the already open door, careful not to slip on the snowy porch.
Inside, the house is mostly empty, waiting for us to fill it with our life together.
The walls are bare, the floors gleaming, and the air carries that new, clean smell of fresh paint and possibility.
Even in its unfinished state, with only a few boxes scattered around, it already feels like home.
There's a welcoming energy in the space, as if it's been waiting for us to make it ours.
I set her down, keeping my arms around her. Eliza's eyes shine in the moonlight streaming through the windows. “It wasn't easy,” she says. “But seeing your face now made it all worth it. Welcome home, Matt.”
As I lean in to kiss her, surrounded by the walls of our future home, the winter landscape visible through the windows, I'm filled with an overwhelming sense of belonging. This is where I'm meant to be. With Eliza, with the Hollisters, in this beautiful, wild place they call home.