Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
CHARLOTTE (NOW)
The second I settle onto the seat of Will’s old truck, I realize my mistake. Memories of us break loose inside my heart, but they’re coming too fast. With too much power. Like floodwaters rising out of control.
This is the truck where we first kissed. Where we discovered so much about each other.
It even still smells the same. Like blackberries and pepper. Like him.
There’s no reason he kept this truck other than because of me. Because of us.
Could he make this any fucking harder on me?
“The saddle’s at Rumble Creek Riders, right? You want to stop there first?” William asks as he pauses at the end of his driveway.
I roll my window down partway to bring in the fresh, fall air, all while staying as far away from him as I can. “That makes sense.”
How can he just sit there making casual conversation while I’m getting dragged under by my feelings just two feet away? I want to tell him to take me back to the house, but he turns and it slips from the rearview, leaving my words coiling in the dust .
I rub the achy spot at the back of my jaw with the tips of my fingers. The Advil’s not working today. There’s only one dentist I trust, and she’s in Seattle. Just one more reason being here is a mistake.
As Will accelerates, behind me from the side of the truck bed, Ollie points her nose into the wind, her fur rippling and her eyes narrowed to furry slits. She really is sweet, and harmless. I should stop being afraid.
God, I hate this. Being scared. Tiptoeing around the trapdoors that hide the truth. But it’s the only way to protect the people I love.
“I had this neighbor in Seattle with the sweetest golden retriever,” I say.
“She got attacked by a pit bull one day when Brent and I were standing outside talking. It just came out of nowhere.” Either it was Lucy’s piercing cries or the pit bull’s brutality that triggered my first panic attack.
Someone must have called 911 because the next thing I knew I was being coaxed to breathe and focus on the medic’s caring eyes while his partner bandaged up Brent’s hand. Thankfully Lucy survived.
William winces. “I’m sorry. That must have been scary.”
“I know all dogs aren’t like that, but…sometimes I react.”
Will shoots me a look of compassion. “I get it.”
I look away because how can he when I don’t understand it myself? “Ollie’s really sweet.”
“Thanks.” He glances my way. “And…thank you for telling me.”
I keep my gaze on the passing landscape so he can’t see the turmoil brewing inside me. Maybe I should have kept that story to myself. What am I doing?
At Rumble Creek, the saddle is waiting just inside their expansive barn, with the receipt looped around the horn. When I go to lift it up, William beats me to it.
“I can carry it,” I insist, jamming my fists against my hips.
“I know you can,” he replies over his shoulder.
Back in the truck, I turn on the radio, and another wave of nostalgia flares in my chest. Not because of the song, which thankfully is not “Rewrite the Stars” or “Addicted To You.” But because of the muscle memory, buried deep. I always played DJ and he never complained.
“How’s Morgan doing?” William asks once we’re underway again.
I look out the window at the blur of dry hillsides sloping up to pale blue sky while the memory of yesterday’s visit chews through my thoughts, sending my stomach cartwheeling.
What does Morgan spilling the details to her therapist mean for us and the agreement that holds everything together?
How much did Morgan share? Will the care team opt to dig into the details?
Dr. Shreve tried with me. If they ask Dad, or Theo, either of them could put the pieces together.
And if they do, everything I’ve worked so hard for will crash land in a ball of fire.
“She’s hanging in there,” I reply.
He glances at me, his intense blue eyes darkening. “How about you try that again.”
I swallow my annoyance. Of course my canned answer isn’t good enough for him. He’s never been the kind of person to skip along the surface. “There’s this thing called privacy laws, maybe you’ve heard of them.”
My snark has the opposite effect, and his gaze softens. “I ask because I care.” After pausing at the stop sign, he accelerates across the Miner Creek bridge.
I lean into the wind and breathe in its thick mineral scent while I think about how to answer him. “She needs to learn how to ride those big feelings she gets, so that she can tolerate them and not reach for the nearest escape.”
William nods. “Think she can do that?”
I release a shaky breath, but the wind is too loud in the cab for William to hear it. “It’s pretty clear what’ll happen if she doesn’t.”
I hate bringing on so much doom, but we’ve been here before.
Morgan has to do the work. “I thought the rescue would make her happy. She loves horses so much, and the idea of saving animals from harm and neglect was something she was excited about. But it’s a big operation.
Even though she has help, maybe it’s too much? ”
“Have you asked her?” He turns north onto Lakeshore.
“She keeps telling me she’s fine.”
“When you’ve been there, do the animals seem okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, there’s always something broken or a minor emergency happening, but the animals all seem loved and well cared for.”
He nods again, and in the quiet, I take a moment to process. There’s a fine line between taking on too much and too little. Having a purpose that gets you out of bed every day is the foundation of a meaningful life. How do I help Morgan find that balance?
His brows knit together. “What about music? You said she might have sold her instruments. Does she want to give it up?”
I rub my palms down my thighs, grounding myself in the worn denim fabric warmed by the sun slanting through my window. “I don’t know?” It comes out as a question because it’s not clear what Morgan wants yet.
“Do you think she wants to come back to the club, when she’s better?”
“Isn’t it obvious she should stay away?” My sudden anger is like a cinch strap around my middle, tightening hot and hard. My molar starts pulsing, and I wince.
William’s brows knit together. “I can’t just fire her.”
I lean back in my seat. Why didn’t Dad urge Morgan to walk away from The Limelight? Didn’t he see what was happening? “I can ask her, but it’s honestly not a priority right now.”
The road bends around the north side of Bear Mountain. A strip mall rises into view, clustered around a four-way intersection. A gas station, a coffee shop, a small hardware store, and the feed store.
“I’ve listened to those demos,” I say to move the conversation along. “There’s one I think you should book. The rest…pass.”
He runs a hand through his hair and huffs a full breath. “Okay, awesome.”
“Does Dad still have the booking software?” I ask.
“I think so?”
“I can stop by tomorrow and show you how it works.”
Relief fills his eyes. “Thank you.”
“How are things at the club?” I ask as he pulls into the feed store parking lot. He should be spending his day there instead of helping me, but Theo was right, the chores I need to do would be tough to manage alone.
He gives me a thoughtful glance. “Going okay, I think.”
I jump down and head for the wide, concrete stairway leading to the swinging double doors. William manages to catch up in time to open one of them for me.
Inside, the clerk behind the giant counter is ringing up another customer but gives us a wave. I head for the back, past rows of halters and rope and chicken feed and bins of squeaky toys and push out the back door, where they keep the ranch supplies.
“I have a new hostess starting tomorrow,” he says. “And I’ve coaxed Oscar to up his prices. I had no idea food costs were so high.”
“Just sell a lot of drinks, and it’ll even out.”
He smiles. “Have you talked to your dad much?”
“I haven’t talked to him at all,” I say as we pass the galvanized horse troughs. “There’s no cell service at his cabin.”
“Before he took off, I invited him to dinner at Zach’s tonight,” Will asks as the young kid stacking bags of feed saunters over to help us. “Think he’ll show?”
“No idea.” Dad looked so wrung out that day I saw him in The Limelight’s office. Like life was beating him down. Maybe a few weeks of fishing and pretty autumn sunsets will help.
Twenty minutes later, we’re back in the truck with the new padding loaded up plus the rest of our supplies.
“Are you still working for that professor?” Will asks as I search the radio for something decent.
“Henrik? Yeah.” A wave of sadness pulses through me. Of the two times I’ve been able to speak with him, he’s been confused, even agitated. His speech is getting worse .
“What happened to the summer youth symphony?” Will accelerates, the morning sunlight winking through the tall pines.
“Henrik isn’t well. He had to put a lot of things on pause.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” William glances my way. “Is he…getting better?”
I shake my head. “He has an aggressive form of brain cancer called GBM. For a while, the symptoms were manageable, but now…he’s declining fast.”
“Shit,” Will huffs, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
I focus on the golden aspen leaves flashing from the roadside as we pass. “It’s just so sad. He’s a wonderful man. Not just brilliant but caring too.”
“Sounds like you two are close.”
“He’s kind of like the grandfather I never had.” I soak in the pretty view. Henrik always loved these mountains. “It kills me that he’s suffering.”
“I’m sorry, Charlotte.”
We turn down Salt Creek Road, and Will slows the truck to navigate the potholes. I mentally add getting the road graded to my list.
The house comes into view, along with several trucks parked in the gravel turnaround. I recognize one of them as Henry’s work truck. “Why are the Huttons here?” I give Will a sharp look.
He shoots me a wink.
There’s another truck parked here too. A woman with a long braid jumps out, and my eyes flood with the tears I can’t hold back. Wren. She’s brought Denny, too.
He slips out of the driver’s side and adjusts his baseball cap.
William parks next to their silver Ford, and I leap out and race around so I can hug Wren.
“Oof,” she says as I squeeze her. “Careful or you might get a peek at my breakfast.”
I laugh. “You guys didn’t have to come.”
She rubs my back. “We wanted to. Now put us to work.”