Chapter 13
MATHEW
No one could get mad at him or claim he was doing something out of the ordinary now. Today was actually a scheduled day off. And just because he was choosing to spend it at his cousin’s ranch didn’t mean anything special.
Okay, maybe it did, but no one had to know why it was special.
Mathew couldn’t make sense of the changes he was dealing with.
It was as if he’d been locked away in a dark room for most of his life.
It was cold and unnerving. No amount of work or distraction could bring forth light or happiness.
Sure, he’d filled the void with his career, his family, and Victoria at one time, but to no avail.
And then he met River.
She reached out and, with one crook of her finger, flipped the lights on.
Now he could see clearly. He could see that he’d put himself in a hole by trying to live his life catering to his father. Fred had been a force to be reckoned with, and he’d raised his son in his image despite Mathew not wanting that life for himself.
Having goals was important, yes. Always striving to be a better person and more like Jesus was what he believed the purpose of life to be. And he’d accomplished so much with that mindset.
But one thing was still missing.
A piece to a puzzle he was now only recognizing.
Joy.
No, joy wasn’t a person. He might have been able to find happiness with anyone.
Even if Victoria walked back into his life right now and wanted to make it work, he couldn’t say for certain he wouldn’t turn her away.
Maybe they could have made something work now that Mathew could see that he’d been a workaholic.
He wasn’t perfect, but he was working toward being better.
Being present for the people in his life.
And he wanted River to be one of those people.
He shut off the engine and stared down at his clothes. Then he groaned. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d pulled out the khakis and the light blue button-down shirt. River was working today. The likelihood that she’d take the day off or that Rose would even offer the opportunity was next to none.
In all honesty, Mathew hadn’t been thinking past wanting to see her and being willing to hang around and chat while she worked.
Bad idea.
Mathew pressed his fingers to his forehead and sighed.
If he knew his uncle like he thought he did, George would either show him the door or demand he get to work.
There were some gym shoes in the back of his car, but he’d taken the dirty gym clothes inside to be washed, so he was stuck in clothes that looked more befitting of a day on a golf course or Sunday brunch.
Oh well. He was here and wasn’t leaving without seeing her.
Mathew reached across the center console and grabbed the bouquet of flowers he’d picked up from the local floral shop, then hopped out of his car and strode toward the hangar where he knew she’d be.
He hadn’t reached the hangar yet when a cowboy emerged, hands deep in his pockets and whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world. He slowed when his eyes snagged on Mathew and the flowers in his hands.
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Then Emerson laughed.
Mathew frowned. “What’s so funny?”
Emerson jerked his chin toward the flowers. “Those better not be for River. She’s gonna hate them.”
“Wait, really?” Mathew lifted the bouquet. Pink gerbera daisies, cream roses, baby’s breath, and greenery that looked like it had been plucked straight from a field. He’d seen it and thought it looked like something River would like. She was bright and kind, just like these flowers.
His brows furrowed.
Emerson nodded. “Yeah. In my opinion, flowers are… excessive. They’re nice to look at, but eventually, they die. You’d be better off getting her a tool set or something.”
Mathew shifted his weight, not sure what to think about Emerson’s opinion. He spotted Lily wandering toward the house and stepped into her path.
“Hey, could you do me a favor?” He held the bouquet out to her. “Can you set these inside somewhere? Out of the sun.”
Her eyes rounded. “Um… sure. For who?”
“Please, just take them inside,” he said, a little too quickly. He exhaled and forced himself to slow down. He’d let Emerson get in his head. “Please.”
Lily took them, still looking confused, and headed toward the house.
Mathew rubbed a hand down the front of his pants and shot Emerson a look. “Don’t you have work to do?”
The cowboy shrugged. “Yeah, but this is more entertaining.”
Mathew’s jaw tightened. “Enjoy the show from a distance, then.”
He brushed past Emerson and headed into the hangar. He could sense him following close behind but chose to ignore him. River was headed toward the doorway, laden with tools.
There was a bag in her hand, and she had a belt full of even more around her waist. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she had a streak of grease across her chin. All he wanted to do was wipe it clean and pull her in for a hug.
These feelings were getting out of hand, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care.
River stopped short, her eyes darting from Mathew to Emerson and back. “Hey. What are you two up to?”
“I came to see if you’ve changed your mind about that date.” Mathew grinned, though he hated every second of the audience he had behind him.
She smiled. “Mathew, I already told you it’s not happening.” She brushed past him like she hadn’t just lit him up from the inside out.
A snort from Emerson had Mathew’s jaw tightening.
River paused just long enough to glance back over her shoulder, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Now… if you’d shown up with a peace offering, I might’ve been slightly more tempted.”
Mathew turned, and that was when he saw it—the quick look River shot Emerson. The tiniest flicker of something warm on her face before she tucked it away and put her teasing smile back on.
Oh. Mathew couldn’t help but wonder if she’d seen the bouquet and said something to Emerson about it.
River laughed at Mathew’s expression, like she could read his mind. “Don’t be mad at Emerson,” she said lightly. “He’s not wrong about one thing. I’m not usually a flowers kind of girl.”
Mathew pointed at her, the tension easing as understanding clicked into place. “Well, if you don’t want flowers, maybe one of these days, you’ll at least agree to getting coffee with me.”
“I don’t doubt you’ll keep asking,” she said, still smiling, before disappearing through the door.
Emerson continued to smirk at Mathew even though Mathew scowled back.
“Not cool,” Mathew muttered.
“She does like succulents, by the way,” Emerson called over his shoulder as he headed out of the building.
Over the next couple of weeks, Mathew was determined to show River just how serious he was about taking her out and showing her how she deserved to be treated.
The first day, he sent her a succulent pot with a note admitting it was better to have something that wouldn’t die. He only knew she received it when Rose texted him and made fun of him through a slew of messages.
The second day, he opted to send River a text message.
Mathew: Craving some ice cream. You bring the waffles?
River: I’m not going out with you, Mathew.
Mathew: Fair. Who said anything about going out? I plan on staying in.
She read it, but didn’t reply.
He sent her a delivery of ice cream later that night anyway. He’d just finished with a patient when his phone buzzed. It wasn’t a message, just a photo. A selfie of River eating straight from the tub, looking entirely unapologetic.
Mathew: Monster.
After that, he sent her another plant. He wasn’t sure it technically counted as a succulent, but it was a desert plant with thorns and flowers. This time, his note was simple.
This reminds me of you.
Soon after she received that, a text popped up.
River: Is this because you think I’m prickly?
When Mathew read the text message, he smiled to himself. She was warming up to him.
Mathew: No. I sent it because you’re beautiful and resilient.
Again, she didn’t respond. But she didn’t tell him to stop, either.
His siblings started teasing him the way his cousins already had. He’d never shown this much interest in a woman—not even when he’d been with Victoria. It was different. And he couldn’t deny it.
By the end of two weeks, River had five new plants and three tubs of ice cream. And he’d stopped by her place with coffee twice after his shift. Today marked the third morning, and this time he knew he had her order right.
When he knocked on her apartment door, River opened it with a grin. Her eyes dipped to the cup in his hand before she folded her arms and leaned a shoulder against the frame. “You’re really not going to give up, are you?”
He held the coffee out. “Nope.”
She accepted it and inhaled the aroma. “Do I smell a hint of almonds?”
Mathew nodded. He’d never tell her that he had Rose do some recon. It was the least she could do since she’d been teasing him mercilessly. River liked her coffee with just a splash of almond milk. No frills. No fancy syrups.
River lifted the drink to her lips and took a sip. “That’s pretty good,” she admitted.
Mathew took a breath. “How about coffee with me sometime,” he said quietly. “Not a date-date. Just… coffee. At that little coffee shop in town? If you hate it, you can walk away and I’ll never bring it up again.”
Her smile faltered into something thoughtful. She tilted her head, searching his face.
“I know you think my job will get in the way,” he continued, voice steady. “And you might be right. But I’m trying to do better. And I’d like the chance to get to know you when you’re not bleeding in a hangar. I think you’d enjoy it if you give me a chance.”
River snorted. “A little confident, aren’t you?”
Mathew didn’t deny it. “I’m learning to be honest about what I want.” His gaze held hers. “And I want to get to know you better.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again, like she wasn’t used to someone saying something that simple and meaning it.
Mathew kept his voice calm. “If your answer is no, I’ll respect it.
I won’t keep showing up at your door with coffee like a stray that thinks it lives here.
” A corner of his mouth lifted. “But if it’s not a no, if it’s just that you’re not ready, then I can wait.
I’m good at waiting. I’ve just been waiting on all the wrong things. ”
Her throat moved like she swallowed something thick.
Mathew reached for her hand, the one he’d stitched up weeks ago, and turned it palm up. The faint line of a scar sat there like proof of how quickly life could change.
Their eyes met again for a moment, then he lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the healed wound. It was innocent enough, but it felt like something deeper. And with the way River stilled, he was sure she felt it, too.
He released her hand and took a step back. “I’ll bring you coffee again tomorrow,” he said softly.
He backed down the stairs and headed for his car, leaving her in the doorway with the morning air and a decision he wasn’t going to force.