CHAPTER ELEVEN MARCH
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MARCH
One year later . . .
“Jellybean!” I opened my arms wide as Alaina raced toward the front door at Anne and Harrison’s. She launched herself into my chest, so I swept her off her bare feet, spinning her in a circle as I peppered her cheeks with kisses. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Are you having a birthday party today?”
Her birthday hoodie this year was violet with TWO in rainbow letters on its face. “Boon.”
“Boon?” That was a new word in her exploding vocabulary.
She pointed down the hallway. “Go.”
“Are you being bossy today?” I tickled her ribs and closed the door, toeing off my shoes, then headed for the noisy kitchen.
A chorus of hellos greeted me as I walked into the Eden fray with Alaina perched on my hip.
“Did you find Vera?” Mateo asked his daughter.
“Yep.” Like always, whenever I rang the doorbell, Alaina came running. And I was still the only person to ring.
“Boon.” Alaina pointed to the bouquet of balloons on the island.
“Ah.” Boon. “Bal-loon,” I enunciated, stressing each syllable.
“Boon.”
I giggled. “Close enough.”
“Dow.” Down. Alaina squirmed but I held her tighter.
“Not without a smooch.” I puckered up and made a kissing noise.
She took my cheeks in her little hands and squeezed, then her slobbery mouth landed on mine.
“Okay, go have fun.” I pushed a small dark curl off her forehead, then set her on her feet so she could run to the playroom, already filled with the other kids’ laughter.
“What can I help with?” I snatched a carrot from the veggie tray on the island.
“Nothing.” Anne dried her hands with a towel beside the sink. “I think we’re all set.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
She waved it off. “You’re right on time.”
My feet were killing me, so I slid into the last empty stool at the island beside Lyla, nudging my elbow with hers. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She smiled, glancing down at a sleeping Trey in her arms.
How that baby could sleep through the noise was beyond me, but this wasn’t the first family gathering he’d snoozed through. His first birthday would be the next we celebrated, probably right here in this kitchen. Maybe he’d stay awake for that party.
“Hey, kiddo.” Uncle Vance tossed an arm around my shoulders for a sideways hug. He must have caught the scent of wind and pine in my hair, and though he tried to hide it, a small frown tugged at his mouth. “You went hiking.”
“You went hiking?” Mateo asked from the opposite side of the island. “Where?”
“Sable Peak.”
“That’s my favorite trail.”
“I know.”
He chuckled. “I’ve told you that before, haven’t I?”
“Once or twice.” I smiled as a blush crept into my cheeks.
The flush wasn’t as fierce or fiery as it had been a year ago. Time and familiarity had made it easier to hide my crush on Mateo. That, or maybe my love for him didn’t come roaring to the surface anymore whenever he was in the room—because it had seeped deep into my bones.
He snagged a snap pea from the veggie tray and dipped it in the ranch before popping it into his mouth. “Maybe I’ll go up with you the next time you head out.”
He’d told me that too. Once or twice.
“Sure. I’ll let you know the next time I head that direction,” I lied.
No matter how much I loved the idea of Mateo and me spending time alone together, he’d never get invited on my hikes. No one would. And I hadn’t gone to Sable Peak today.
I’d been on the opposite end of the valley, traversing woods where the closest hiking trail was at least a mile away. March had been unseasonably warm this year, making it easier for me to get into the mountains.
Vance stiffened at my side, his arm falling away. His jaw flexed.
That flex meant I’d be getting a lecture the next time we were alone. I’d gotten to know that look well over the past year. The lectures too. But his concern stemmed from a good place.
“Are we still going to Willie’s tonight?” Lyla asked, probably because her husband’s rising tension was clouding the room and soon, people would start asking questions.
“We’re in.” Eloise leaned into Jasper’s side. “Mom, you’re still good to babysit?”
“Yes. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
“Me too,” Lyla said, meeting my gaze.
“Thank you,” I mouthed.
Lyla had come to my rescue more often than not when it came to the hiking subject.
She knew, just like Vance, that I was searching for Dad. And she knew, just like Vance, that I wasn’t going to stop.
Maybe he was still angry that Dad had attacked Lyla. I couldn’t blame him for that.
Two years ago, Dad had gotten spooked when she’d stumbled upon him hunting and he’d . . . snapped. He’d choked her until she’d almost passed out, then let her go.
Vance had every right to be angry. So was I. Dad shouldn’t have touched her. Why hadn’t he just run away? What had been going on in his head that he’d do such a horrible thing?
If I hadn’t left him so abruptly, I could have asked. I could have made sure he wasn’t on the edge of a mental break.
But I had left him. Now I had to find him.
Lyla had accepted my hikes. Vance wanted me to move on.
He didn’t give me enough credit for how far I’d already come. I was getting back to the person I’d been before. Living a normal life.
I had a job I loved at Eden Coffee. It paid my bills and allowed me a flexible schedule so that I had plenty of time to take my classes and study. I was doing what many twenty-three-year-old women were doing.
I drove my car. I spent too much time on my phone. I ate too much junk food and had a healthy obsession with Netflix.
In the past year, I liked to think I’d found constant.
I was chasing constant, at least.
But I wasn’t giving up on Dad.
Maybe letting him go was the smartest decision. It would likely be the choice that saved myself heartache. In a way, the same could be said for my unending crush on Mateo. Was it reckless to love him even though he hadn’t dropped a crumb of interest in my direction? Sort of.
Yet here I was, acting the fool.
Chances were, Mateo would never notice me. Chances were, I’d always feel damaged and broken. Maybe the past would always be something insurmountable for me to overcome.
Maybe no amount of waiting for Mateo would ever make a difference.
Deep in my heart, I knew it was time to let these feelings go. But forgetting Dad?
No. Never.
Dad was my family. He needed me. I was all he had left, and I’d abandoned him. Somehow, I’d fix that mistake. I’d figure out a way to stay in his life. To keep him in mine.
Even if the only place we could see each other was hidden beneath trees and a cloudless blue sky. Even if it took me ten years to find him. I would find him.
He was alive.
I wasn’t giving up.
Even if down deep, I wondered if it was time to let both Mateo Eden and Cormac Gallagher go.
“Vera—”
“I heard you, Uncle Vance.” I’d heard every word of the lecture he’d been giving me for the past five minutes outside of the ladies’ bathroom at Willie’s.
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his bearded jaw. “I’m worried about you.”
“You don’t need to worry.” I gave him a sad smile. “I’m careful. I have my bear spray. I stay aware of my surroundings. I make noise when I’m in sketchy areas. I’m careful.”
“It’s not—” Another sigh. “I know you’re careful. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what?”
“I’m worried . . .” He blew out a long breath. “I’m worried you won’t find him.”
We shared that worry. Not that I’d ever admit it out loud. To Vance or myself. “I’ll find him.”
“You might not.”
“But I will.”
“Kiddo—”
“He promised.” My voice wobbled. “He said we’d see each other again. He promised.”
I would find my father. I would be in his life. He needed me in his.
“I shouldn’t have left him like that.”
Vance blinked. “What? Do you want to go back?”
“No. Not to live out there. But it all happened so fast. You found me. We found Dad. And the next day, I left. It was hasty.”
“Hasty. He wanted you to go, Vera.”
“I know. And I’m not saying I regret it. But I just . . .” I sighed. “I’ll find him.”
Vance’s eyes softened.
I hated the tender pity in his gaze. I hated his doubts. I hated that he could be right.
“I’ll find him.” My chin jutted as I spoke.
The expression on Vance’s face didn’t change. I couldn’t stare at it for another minute, so I slid past him and stormed down the hallway, rejoining our group.
There were two bars on Main Street, Big Sam’s Saloon and Old Mill. They bookended the touristy section of Quincy and catered to visitors who wanted the “authentic” Montana experience.
Big Sam’s was decked out in over-the-top Western décor. Old Mill had a sports bar vibe. Willie’s was a dive, and according to the locals, it was the authentic Montana bar.
The building itself was old, dark and dingy. The walls were crammed with neon lights and beer signs. Every table had an array of nicks and dings. No more than two chairs or stools matched, and the mirrored wall with shelves of liquor bottles probably hadn’t been cleaned in a decade.
When I used the bathroom, despite years of peeing in the woods, I hovered over the toilet seat. Yet even with the stale scent of old beer, I liked these nights when the Edens would come into town for a night out.
I recognized nearly every face here tonight. Since the bar wasn’t on Main, it didn’t get the influx of tourists like the polished establishments.
Which seemed to suit Willie himself just fine. He stood behind the bar, looking about as pleased to have customers as he would to have a colonoscopy.
I walked to the bar and lifted a hand, signaling Willie from the end. I’d learned my first time here that smiles were wasted on the grumpy bartender so I didn’t bother as he came my direction.
His white eyebrows seemed even bushier than they had been the last time we’d all come in for drinks, but his scraggly beard had gotten a slight trim.
“Coke, please.”
Willie didn’t nod or speak. He just filled a glass with ice and squirted my drink into it as I surveyed the room.