Chapter Three – Second Wind
Chapter Three
Maisey
SECOND WIND
Performed by Kelly Clarkson
ELEVEN YEARS AGO
HER: She left me taking care of the chickens by myself…AGAIN. When I asked if she’d be back to collect the eggs, she just shrugged.
HIM: You need to tell your mom she’s been sneaking out and not coming home.
HER: Mom’s been really preoccupied lately. I think she and Dad are having more than their usual troubles. And you know I can’t tell on Chelsea. She barely talks to me anymore. If I got her in trouble now, it would be the end of our relationship.
HIM: What relationship? The one where she uses your unjustified guilt to get what she wants?
Moments passed.
HIM: Don’t be mad at me for telling you the truth. We agreed we’d always be honest with each other.
HER: We’ll just have to agree to disagree when it comes to my sister.
PRESENT DAY
I cursed the disappointment that welled through me as I made my way out of Frank’s alone and stood staring across the street at the Emporium where my truck was parked.
I wasn’t really much of a drinker, and the couple I’d had tonight meant I was in no shape to drive.
My apartment building was on the opposite side of town.
I could walk it, but it was at least twenty minutes on foot, and I was even more exhausted now than I’d been before.
So instead of heading toward my apartment, I crossed the street, starting in the direction of the neighborhood behind the Emporium and my childhood home.
A voice rang out from the parking lot. “Hey, Maisey, hold up!”
I turned, trying not to wince as I saw the last person I’d expected jogging toward me.
Carter Smythe had a finger hooked in the suit jacket he’d thrown over his shoulder.
His shirt sleeves were rolled above his elbows, and his tie was loosened.
These days, he was all slick businessman, the complete opposite of when I’d made the unfortunate mistake of going with him to the homecoming dance in high school.
Back then, he’d been more of a blue-collar man in work boots and plaid shirts—at least that’s what I’d thought of him whenever he’d been at our house, hanging out with Chelsea and her crew.
Since graduating, Carter had turned his family’s construction business into a high-powered real estate development company.
Smythe & Sons had a hand in almost every change happening in Swift Rivers, no matter the size, from the fancy new streetlights on Main Street to the entertainment complex being built just past my apartment.
He came to a halt a few inches from me, running a hand over his icy-blond hair and giving me a good look at the expensive watch slipping out from his shirt sleeve.
“You’re just the person I wanted to talk to,” he said.
Surprise shifted through me. Not once in the three years I’d been back in Swift Rivers had Carter looked me up. He hadn’t even acknowledged me. Not at Frank’s, not at Jack’s, the town’s favorite Italian restaurant, and not at the Emporium when we’d crossed paths shopping.
He chuckled. “I know. We haven’t really gotten a chance to catch up, but I needed to talk to you about your dad’s place.”
Wariness eased in. “What about it?”
“I wanted to make sure he considered my offer before the bank got its hands on it.”
The alcohol in my stomach turned nastily. “What do you mean, the bank?”
His brows lifted. “You didn’t know? They’re going to foreclose. He hasn’t been making the payments.”
I was spun right back to that horrible moment eleven years ago after Mom’s death, when I’d been faced with losing the home I’d grown up in.
Dad hadn’t been paying any of the bills, hadn’t even known what bills to pay because Mom had always handled their accounts.
If it hadn’t been for Beckett’s dad stepping in to help me sort through it all, we would have lost everything.
But that had long since changed. Before I went away to college, I’d set everything up online so Dad didn’t have to do much more than check that everything was going through. He’d been handling it just fine…
Or at least I’d thought he had been.
“I’m sorry you didn’t know,” Carter said, voice softening. “The bank won’t give him what it’s worth. You know they won’t. But I have ideas for that entire section of town, and I can offer him top dollar.”
“Maisey! Wait up!” From outside the bar, Beckett’s voice rang out.
Emotions swelled in my chest—happiness as I watched Beckett jog across the street toward me mingled with worry about the bomb Carter had just dropped.
Carter glanced in Beckett’s direction, and his lips formed a grim, straight line before he looked back at me. “I gotta go. But call me so I can explain what I have in mind.”
He slipped me a business card and was already halfway across the parking lot before Beckett slid in beside me. He darted a frown in Carter’s direction before turning a stunning smile on me. A smile that made me ache from my head all the way down to my toes.
Why did he have to be so handsome that it physically hurt?
“Heading to my place, I see,” he teased, nudging my arm.
I scoffed, “As if.”
He sobered. “Seriously, I’m glad you’re not driving. I don’t have any beds in the guest rooms yet, but you can have mine, and I’ll take the couch.”
After the city had changed its livestock ordinances, making it illegal for Kurt to keep his goat herd on their land, Beckett’s dad had moved out to Fallon’s ranch with them, and Beckett had taken over his childhood home.
Since then, he’d slowly been remodeling it.
So far, he’d gutted the kitchen, knocked down a few walls, and added a brand-new main suite that jutted out into the backyard.
The work he’d done on the 1920s Craftsman had made Dad’s matching one on the lot next door seem more pitiful than ever.
My stomach knotted. If Carter was telling the truth, Dad had done far more than ignore the maintenance on the house.
I swallowed over the lump that had formed in my throat and said, “Thanks, but I’ll just stay at Dad’s. He got back from a month-long job earlier this week, and I wanted to check in on him anyway.”
Shoulder to shoulder, Beckett and I headed down the street into my old neighborhood, leaving the noise of Main Street behind. Crickets chirped, an owl hooted, and the rush of the river filled the air.
“What did dickhead want?” Beckett asked.
For a moment, I was tempted to tell him exactly what Carter had said, but then, I bit my cheek.
If Dad had gotten himself into another financial mess, Beckett would want to help, just like Fallon would.
But I wasn’t relying on my friends again.
I was incredibly grateful for all they’d done for me growing up, and I refused to take more from them.
I wouldn’t be my dad. I wouldn’t be an adult who had to rely on others, or a teenage daughter, to hold my shit together.
“Nothing important,” I answered with a shrug.
“You aren’t thinking of dating that imbecile?” I knew better than to think the growl in his voice meant he was jealous. Beckett would never want to date me. He’d never want a long-term relationship with anyone. His mother, his dad’s fiancée, and Delilah had all ensured it.
“And give Delilah even more reason to hate the Campbells? No.” It went deeper than that.
After what had happened in high school, I’d never give Carter another shot at my heart.
Delilah could have him. Although, everyone in town knew she’d drop him in a hot minute if it meant Beckett decided to ante up.
As we reached the end of the cul-de-sac, the sights and sounds of our childhood greeted us.
The houses closer to downtown sat on small suburban lots, but the last three, belonging to Beckett, Dad, and the Helmers, were large plots from when the town had first been founded.
Each stretched over five acres, long and narrow, with the houses close together at the front, and the lots growing wider the farther back they went until they crossed the river and climbed into the hills.
As kids, Beckett and I had spent our mornings helping with farm chores before tearing off to roam the land like it was our kingdom.
We’d played along the riverbank, cooled off in its rushing water every summer, and chased each other through the hills in endless games of hide-and-seek.
After Beckett and his dad had built a treehouse in the live oak that stretched over the river, it had become our secret haven.
We’d spent hours reading there, and once I’d finally been freed of my nightly facemask, we’d lain shoulder to shoulder, watching the stars bloom across the sky.
Some of my very best and very worst memories had happened on this street.
“I’m surprised you escaped the bar without blood being drawn,” I said, shoving Beckett’s shoulder with my hand.
“It was a near miss,” he teased. “She nearly got a hook into me this time.”
Shock flickered through me. “Really? I thought you were never playing in that sandbox again.”
He made a disgusted noise. “Give me some credit, Maise. No, Del almost hooked me with news about her dad.”
“What’s up with the chief?”
“She says he’s finally going to retire.”
My feet ground to a halt. When I looked up at Beckett, the gossamer glow of the moonlight washed over his face, transforming him into a beautiful black-and-white drawing. A vampire hero. Dark and gorgeous. Mesmerizing. Hard to resist.
“That’s awesome news. Congrats, Chief.”
His smile turned triumphant.
“Stoney is going to put up a good fight for the job. He’s got me beat, hands down, in the experience category.”
“Stoney isn’t a leader, Fireball. You and I both know it, and so does Chief Nattingly.” His grin widened, exposing his dimple, and it turned him from vampire to superhero just like the one I’d nicknamed him for.
“The city council has to approve the candidate, and I’m not sure how many friends I have on it.”
I tucked my arm in his, and we continued walking.