Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
WYATT
“Okay, next question.” Tyler held up a card, squinting at it.
“He can’t fucking read.” Mason reached for it.
We all sat in the large living area, a fire burning brightly.
It was a Christmas tradition to play games, not talk about hockey, and drink.
There was ease to everyone. It had taken a day for the stress and chaos of Las Vegas to leave everyone.
And just as we were finally relaxed, it would be time to head back.
“I can too. I just can’t see straight.” Tyler closed one eye.
“I need another drink. Anyone else?” Raylee stood.
“I’m good.” Julian was sitting next to me, his arm on the back of the couch. Mason and Hannah were winning, of course. I was learning Hannah didn’t lose at anything. She was the first up. The first to suggest we all go for a run and the first to know some random hockey stat.
“Shit,” Raylee called. “We’re out of beer.”
“Seriously?” Teigen stood up.
“There’s more in the garage.” Tyler held up the card. “Okay, ready. What ad campaign told Americans ‘don’t leave home without it’?”
“There is no beer in the garage.” Raylee came back in. “You all know the rules. Who drank the last one?”
“Wrong. American Express.” Tyler smiled. “And not me.”
Anders turned to Julian. “You know the rules. Last one here.”
“You can’t use that for everything,” Julian complained.
“Yes, I can, and you’re the only one who pussed out and isn’t drinking.”
Julian’s shoulder was bothering him. He hid that from everyone. It had been bad this morning, something about the pressure change. So he took a couple pain pills, which meant no drinking.
“You feel like a road trip into town?” he asked me.
Actually, I did. His friends were great, but they were a lot. Raylee and Teigen liked us girls to do everything together. And Hannah hated I was one of the girls. “Sure.”
“You better change into something warm. It’s cold out,” Teigen said. She was the mother of the group, trying to make sure we all got along.
“She’s right. This is Donner Pass,” Mason said.
“I’ll wear a coat,” I said, following Julian to the door.
“And boots in case you go in the ditch,” Raylee called. “We are all too drunk to come bail you out so you’ll have to walk or wait for a tow truck.”
“Wow, this is sounding more and more dangerous every second.” I slipped on my boots. Julian handed me a hat, gloves, and scarf.
“Better safe than sorry. If we don’t come back, don’t wait up,” Julian said, opening the door.
When we passed the turnoff for town, I turned to him. “Um, you missed the turn.” I twisted in my seat.
“I know.” He turned and winked at me.
“Where are we going?” I looked for any road signs, not that I would know where we were.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Like a you’re-going-to-murder-me-and-leave-my-body-in-the-woods surprise?” Tall trees were on either side of the road, and it would be dark soon. It would be the perfect place to kill someone.
“No. But promise me you won’t be disappointed.”
“Okay?” I sat back, trying to figure out where we were going. Julian turned the car onto a road marked Scenic Lookout. In the empty parking lot was a truck and a horse trailer.
“Ready?” He looked so happy in this moment. So whatever he was about to do, I would enjoy it for him.
“Sure.”
Julian pulled a broken hockey stick out of the back seat and went over to the truck.
Outside snow crunched under my boots, and the sun had started to set.
Julian went over to the man, and they talked for a bit.
The man took the stick and then led a large bay horse out of the trailer.
The horse’s breath was white in the cool evening air. Julian came over to me.
“Merry Christmas.” He motioned to the horse.
“You bought me a horse for Christmas?” I had no idea where this was going.
“No. The horse is not yours to keep. But…” He climbed into the saddle. “The ride is.” He held out his hand to me.
“You know how to ride?”
“I lived in Warroad. I know how to mend a fence line, ride a horse, and drive a tractor. Give me your hand.”
“Ah… okay?” I gave him my hand, the man from the truck holding the reins as Julian pulled me up into the saddle. It was like a scene from some rom-com. The horse shifted under my weight. “Are you sure about this? Can this poor thing carry both of us?”
“Old Buck is fine,” the man said, patting the horse’s neck. “Enjoy the ride.” He tipped his hat before heading back to the truck.
“Hang on.” Julian’s breath was warm on my neck as the horse started plodding down the trail.
“Where are we going?” It was quiet as we entered the wooded trail. No one had ever done anything like this for me.
“You’ll see.” Julian easily guided the horse through the trail. One hand around my waist, the other guiding the horse.
We rode in silence as I tried to figure out where this was going. What the horse ride had to do with anything. I liked horses, but I didn’t think I’d told him that.
“Are you impressed yet?”
“Yes, actually, I am. What other hidden talents do you have?” I leaned back into his warmth. “When did you learn to ride?”
“I worked at a farm for a couple summers when I was younger. I needed something to fall back on should the whole hockey thing not work out. When the chores were done, we’d ride horses down to the lake.”
“I can’t see you being a farmer.” I couldn’t picture Julian being anything other than this. “How old were you?”
“Thirteen when I started. I did it for three years. Then turned sixteen and everything changed.”
I could hear the longing in his voice. The trail wound up the hill, the horse plowing through the snow. “What changed?”
“My dad. Heads up.” He nodded to the clearing that came into view. Someone had cleared the snow away and set up blankets and a small fire.
“What is going on?” I watched him dismount.
His nose and cheeks were flushed with the cold air.
He reached up and helped me down. I walked to the edge that overlooked the valley.
Below, the frozen lake was peaceful. A couple of cabins were tucked amongst the trees.
The sky was bright orange and pink. The sun would soon be setting behind the mountains.
It would be a perfect place to see a sunset.
I blinked back the tears as it all fell into place.
“Is this the big event you had planned?”
“Yep.” Julian stood behind me. “How will we ride off into our happily ever after if you don’t believe in sunsets?”
“It’s not the sunsets. I don’t believe in the—”
“The promise?” He caressed my cheek. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
He led me over to the blankets and pillows by the small fire.
I sat down, and Julian pulled me into his embrace.
The setting sun was a blur in my unshed tears.
I curled up next to him and watched the sunset.
And it was beautiful. The bright oranges and pinks faded to soft colors as the sun slipped behind the horizon.
The sky turned pale blue as the moon rose.
I sat up. The glow of the fire cast shadows over his face.
I took in this moment, letting it replace the one from my memory.
Those three words sat right at the tip of my tongue.
I’d said them that night to a boy who I thought loved me back.
I thought that was what love looked like.
The front seat of a Chevy truck. His hands up my shirt.
His sweet words in my ear. But two months later, I learned that was what heartbreak looked like.
“And tomorrow? What will that promise look like?” It was more than just tomorrow; it was a lifetime of tomorrows.
“I’ll still be here. Probably with something stitched up, but I’ll still be here.”
I didn’t stop the tears that fell. “I think I might love you.” The confession slipped so easily from my lips. And saying the words felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders.
“I know I love you.” He cupped my cheek.
“I knew it that night in November. I thought if I stayed away, I’d protect you from the bad part of my life.
But I couldn’t. I would’ve confessed it to you that night.
But I thought you’d heard all those empty promises too many times. So I wanted to prove it.”
“No one has ever said they loved me.” They loved parts of me.
The parts they could consume. The parts they paid for.
“And I would’ve believed you.” Because that night, as he lay asleep in my arms, I had wanted to protect him from my life.
If I had been stronger, I would have sent him away. But I missed him so much.
I laid my head on his chest, letting this moment leave its mark on me. For once, I had found what was at the end of the sunset.
I found the silver lining.