Chapter 2
Chapter Two
CHARLOTTE (NOW)
The turnoff for Finn River blinks into view, making my stomach pitch.
Even after fourteen hours of driving, I’m not ready to come home.
“It’s Morgan,” William said on the phone, his voice breaking. “I think you need to be here.”
My sigh turns shaky as I flip on my signal, the tick, tick, tick like a scolding.
This is my fault. For leaving them behind. For thinking I had everything fixed.
At the end of the ramp, I give my reflection a glance, then wish I hadn’t. Red-rimmed eyes stare back at me, and my messy bun looks more like a pincushion. I’m so pale my freckles practically pop off my face.
Like it matters. I’m not trying to impress anyone.
Onward.
I take the overpass and descend to the outskirts of Finn River. Past the 76 Station, the strip mall with the barber shop and the pizza place and the liquor store while nostalgia claws at the edges of my thoughts. Not all the memories are bad. But the precious ones are buried, tucked away.
Safe.
At the four-way stop, I turn right, away from town. Hospital visiting hours are over for the day, and I’m too tired to face the rest.
When I roll down my window, the heady scent of dry pine and granite warmed by the late September sun hits me like a freight train, drawing more memories to the surface.
Long summer afternoons at the swimming hole.
Riding my bike to Glory Holes with my friends on Saturdays.
Making music with Morgan, the little creek in our backyard singing backup.
Blackberry milkshakes in William’s old truck, followed by the kind of desperate, stolen kisses we couldn’t get enough of.
I slow my racing pulse with a measured inhale, but it just makes the emotions sharpen behind my eyes.
Though I try to brush past memories of William, my mind is already cartwheeling through those slivers of time.
That first day of high school when I noticed him seconds before Theo introduced us.
Friday night football games, me playing my lungs dry in the band section while William dominated the field.
The tutoring sessions that brought us together.
His terrible fights when he felt trapped.
Our friendship that started off rocky, then turned into something genuine…
something unstoppable, and real. A kind of love I’ll never experience again.
When I left Finn River, I swore I’d never watch another football game. But I did. When I missed him most, I always knew where to find him.
Just thinking William’s name rocks my heart to a dead stop inside my chest.
Even though I’m back in Finn River, I don’t have to see him. I’m only in town long enough to help Morgan get back on her feet. I avoided Will three years ago when Boxcar Doves played our final show at The Limelight. I can avoid him now.
Through the tall trees flanking the mountain road, I get flashes of the Bitterroots, bare and craggy this time of year, the last of the sun’s light turning the peaks copper.
Below me, the indigo surface of Bear Lake glistens.
It’ll be dark soon. And I’ll be treated to a night sky studded with a jeweler’s bounty of bright stars.
I cross Miner Creek, its cold, mineral scent heavy on my tongue and the crashing of the water filling my road-weary ears. It should be soothing, but my nerves are too frayed, my anxiety too powerful.
Though I’ve already programmed Theo’s address into my phone, I idle at Morning Star Road to be sure I’m still on track, unease twisting in my gut.
The Huttons’ ranch is out this way. I can picture their big barn with its red metal roof, and Galaxy, the rescue horse Will and I spoiled with carrots and extra attention.
Why would Theo have a place out here? I drum my fingers on the wheel, then take the gravel road.
A plume of dust rises behind me and my tires bite the uneven surface.
I turn down a driveway flanked by forest on both sides, bumping over potholes.
When I pull up to a two-story blue house with a wraparound porch and detached garage, my attention is drawn to the two vehicles parked facing the fenced yard.
One is Theo’s dusty black Subaru. The other is a sporty silver hatchback.
My brother knew I was coming, and yet he has company?
I consider backing out of here and high-tailing it down the driveway.
Finn River has a lovely old inn downtown.
Maybe that would be a better option than to barge in on Theo and his guest. Of course there are vacation rentals, but even during slack season, they’d be expensive.
Certainly beyond my meager musician’s budget.
With a sigh, I park and shut off my engine.
It’s fine. Whoever Theo’s entertaining, I’m sure it’s fine.
I don’t want to talk tonight anyway, and I’m sure Theo has very little to say.
It’s not that he doesn’t care about our sister, it’s that he cares too much, and he’s looking out for his weary heart.
I slip on my battered clogs, then step down to the gravel, rolling my hips side to side to flush out a day’s worth of kinks in my joints.
The cool, alpine air sinks into my lungs.
It always takes a few days to get used to the altitude and the drier air.
This time of year is my favorite. Crisp, cold nights.
Warm, soft-focused days, the heat of summer long gone.
Afternoon thunderstorms. The spicy scent of sage.
Will I still be here when the snow starts falling?
I haul my duffel bag and violin from the trunk.
Tomorrow I’ll come back for the rest. The gravel crunches under my feet as I pass Theo’s car and let myself through the gate.
A dog woofs from inside the house, and the porch light flicks on.
Did Theo get a dog? I swallow my annoyance.
Growing up, we had the occasional pet—a basset hound named Rufus, rabbits, Teddy the gerbil, even a snake.
There’s no way Theo would know about the pit bull incident, because I haven’t told anyone, not even Henrik.
Though my socializing days with Henrik are fading fast thanks to the disease.
Theo’s tidy yard looks well cared for, and the steps are flanked by flowering shrubs. I’m halfway up the porch steps when the front door opens and my brother rushes out. His lips hint at a smile and his hazel eyes warm.
“Hey Charlie.” He draws me into a soft hug.
I set my violin and duffle bag down so I can wrap my arms around him. I take a deep inhale of his fresh cotton scent, fighting back tears.
“Let me get that,” he says, picking up my duffel and violin just as a medium-sized fluffball slips through the screen door, tail wagging nonstop.
I jump back, my heart racing, while the dog sniffs my ankles. Her caramel-colored fur contrasts with her white paws and the white diamond on her chest. Her fluffy ears remind me of a fox’s. “Is she yours?” I ask Theo, my voice wavering.
Before he can answer, a figure darkens the doorway. “That’s Ollie,” the man says, his voice rich and steady. A voice I’d know anywhere. In this life, or the next .
I try to steal a breath, but it lodges in my throat. I don’t want to look up, but I can’t avoid it. Not without making it weird. And that’s the last thing I want.
Why didn’t I turn my car around the minute I saw Theo wasn’t alone?
William opens the screen door to welcome me in, and I straighten. Our eyes lock, and for an instant, my heart presses so firmly against my ribs, I already feel the bruises forming. Just add them to the ones that are already there. The ones that never healed.
“Hi, Charlotte,” Will says with a hint of a smile. Or is it a grimace? Is it because of Morgan, and the scars he now carries after saving her life, or something else?
“Hey,” I reply. It comes out tight, but I can’t help it.
I should look away, but drinking him in is too tempting. His faded Levi’s fit just right—low on his hips and snug around his strong thighs, and his blue T-shirt stretches across his broad chest and strains at his massive biceps. His thick dark hair looks wet, like he just showered.
Why the hell is he here?
William steps back to give me room to pass, and though I do without touching him, the space between us feels charged. Is it because the words I couldn’t say back then have lingered, trapped in time?
If that wasn’t bad enough, I catch a hint of his peppery scent as I enter the room. I shake my head like it’ll clear it from my senses.
After that summer, I slept with one of William’s T-shirts clutched to my chest until it no longer smelled like him.
To the left is an open living area featuring a woodstove and couch, with the kitchen area behind it.
A big window over the sink offers a view of the dark yard, and a sliding glass door opens to the back porch.
On the right, a staircase leads to the second floor.
Ollie trots to her bed near the woodstove and starts chewing on a bone. Relief ebbs inside me .
“We set you up in the guest room,” Theo says, drawing my attention to the hallway. “Down here.”
I look over my shoulder to give Will a questioning glance. We?
His deep blue eyes and stoic face don’t give anything away. But my sluggish brain has made the connection already. Theo and William both live here. It makes sense due to their longstanding friendship and demanding work schedules, and yet, why didn’t I think to ask?
I follow my brother down a hallway painted an off-white, no pictures, to the first room. Beyond it are two more doors.
“Bathroom’s there,” Theo says, nodding at the middle one before leading me inside the guest room. There’s a queen bed, matching bedside table and dresser, and a closet. On the far side, a door opens to the wraparound deck.
“Thank you,” I say, trying to smile at Theo.
“Of course.” He sets my duffel on the bed and my violin on the floor.
“I’m glad you came.” He rattles off some final details—where to find fresh towels, what time he’s leaving for his night shift at the hospital, and to make myself at home—but my mind’s gears feel stuck.
Maybe it’s the long drive. Maybe it’s my irrational fear of Ollie attacking me in my sleep.
Maybe it’s my worry about Morgan, and Dad, and what’s in store for us all.
How can I keep our secrets safe?
“Get some rest,” Theo says, and steps from the room.
William stands backlit in my doorway, his solid frame eating up the empty space. He looks as muscular and fit as ever, but I always knew he’d be an athlete for life. “I’m sorry about Morgan.”
I force back the tears with a hard swallow. Not going to cry right now. I can’t. “Was it awful?”
The planes of his chiseled jaw harden. “Scary. But she made it.”
I release a slow sigh, puffing my cheeks. I both hate that he had to experience Morgan’s spiral and am grateful he was there for her when I couldn’t be.
“Do you…need anything?” he asks .
Anger flickers inside my chest. Leave it to Will to ask this. When I’m already so close to breaking. I shake my head.
“Okay,” he says, then pushes off from the doorframe.
I have a sudden urge to call out to him, but I bite my cheek. The time for William Hayes to comfort me ended long ago.