Chapter 7 Easton
EASTON
Ridge
Gonna need you to claim proof of life, brother. First, you call off the wedding on your wedding day. Then, you hightail it out of Nashville without a word. Wtf??
You know I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t right. Don’t worry. I feel like shit enough for the both of us.
Ridge
I’m just fucking with you, East. You have everyone worried.
Just cover for me for a while. Syd knows where I’m going. We talked. I can’t handle anything more than that right now.
Ridge
I got you. Take care of yourself. Hope you find what you’re lookin’ for.
Yeah. Me too, Ridge. Me too.
I should have expected my best friend to be the first person I’d actually respond to. He’s like a brother to me. We work together day in and day out. He’s the one dude I know has my back.
If only he knew what I just got myself into. Why I invited a stranger I’ve never met on what was supposed to be my honeymoon is beyond me.
My honeymoon. It’s wild how fast life can shift.
One minute, I was engaged to be married to Sydney. My childhood best friend and my dead brother’s girl. And the next, I’m hightailing it through the vineyard, only to tell her I can’t marry her.
I wanted to fucking flee the state and not talk to anyone, but I owed it to her.
Owed it to him.
Now, here I am. In a side-by-side with the random woman I met at the airport, heading to the place we’ll stay together for the next two weeks.
Collie Meadows.
She’s a lost girl with a striking amount of charisma and beauty. A woman who, years ago, I would have only dreamt of being alone with. Still might if it weren’t for my personal turmoil.
I know I have a handful of people to answer to when I get back to Salt Hollow. So many plans have now been tarnished at my hands. While I would typically be doing everything I can to mend those fences, I don’t feel the slightest bit of guilt toward any of them.
It’s to my brother that my guilt lies. Even though I know he’d beat the living shit out of me for feeling this way.
Just like I know if I could just get myself to read the letter he left for me in his last days, I’m sure I’d find him either threatening my life if I ever touch Sydney or threatening my life if I leave her high and dry.
Either way, I know I’m fucked. But I can’t do it.
The neatly sealed paper is tightly folded in my wallet, waiting for the day I grow a pair and face his truth.
But I still need time to process the dumpster fire that is my life. Process the fact that I chose to go against my promise to him and put myself first for once. I’d like to think Ben would respect that, but I can also imagine him kicking my ass next to the big guy upstairs.
Hating me for not being a man of my word.
But what happens when our word becomes an anchor to our death? Life is too fucking short. Too short to be married to someone I never loved, all for someone who isn’t here. Hell, I’ve spent the past two years we were together practically celibate, all because every inch of her felt like his.
Not to mention, it was the farthest thing from what I want.
What would it have been like to be married to a woman I never intended to touch intimately again?
It’s tragic. That’s what it is. Really fucking tragic.
What’s not tragic, though, is this view.
“Somebody pinch me.” Collie whistles beside me, soaking up the scenery as we enter the deepest acres of Yellowstone National Park.
We’re lost in the robust wilderness, surrounded by nothing but trees as tall as the eye can see.
A massive forest lined with pine, fir, and spruce trees directs the narrow dirt path leading toward our destination.
All fading shades of hunter green, burnt orange, and amber.
As the peak of winter draws near, the colors will begin to change as snow covers the ground.
There’s a mild amount of snow coverage already.
Amongst the forest are canyons, lakes, and waterfalls. I know this because I did my research.
If I were forced by marital obligation to go on a trip, I wanted it to be one that was worth it. I’m an outdoorsman, having grown up in Alaska. Salt Hollow is a small town known for its prestigious fishing and wildlife.
Yellowstone reminds me of home, in a way.
The perplexing tundra varies in elevation throughout, making the iced path somewhat bumpy, our bodies jostling throughout the ride. Collie doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by it, taking in the beauty with awe.
The park Ranger at the campground entrance made it a point to let us know everything we could expect to see throughout the park. Although we’re staying at a designated campground, I know Sydney booked this one specifically because of the distance between lots.
Come to think of it, she must have expected much more from our wedding night than I planned to give her. Something I feel really shitty for now.
The shitty feeling is fleeting because miles of acreage surround us, reminding me just how secluded we actually are out here.
A factor I wasn’t concerned about when it was just me coming here alone.
But with Collie, the newly acquainted stranger added to the mix, there’s a luring hesitation in my chest.
Maybe it’s just a fear of the unknown.
“I wonder how they managed to build a hotel all the way out here,” Collie comments, likely observing the lack of architecture.
“They didn’t.”
I also realize now that I have no idea what else Sydney planned. She was in charge of the excursions, insisting on mapping out every detail for us. The only part I played was relaying to her the things I wanted to do the most.
Collie has no idea what’s in store—and hell, neither do I.
The Grand Teton Range is a must-see. But by no means does Collie have to tag along. I just hope that if she does, she’s up for anything.
Fuck. Just thinking about the way she assumed I only invited her to sleep with me makes my head spin. And her comment about the hair pulling. It’s like my body was not my own. Her hair was the first thing I saw to grab. If only she knew how unlike me that really was.
I’m the cautious one. Too worried about everyone else and how my actions may affect them.
If I had it my way, I’d have fucked a woman as beautiful as Collie years ago.
But I’m a long way off from that Easton.
The Easton I hope to be sooner than later.
I don’t mean one to fuck and leave without a word.
I’m not a dick. Or maybe I am, seeing as how that’s essentially what I’ve done to Sydney.
I’m ready for some fresh air and to be freed from this mental hell.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be in a relationship worthy of both. Filthy fucking and staying because it feels right.
I want something deeply permanent.
Settling into the quiet of the drive and the unfiltered sounds of wildlife around us, hope stirs inside me at the view up ahead. “Ah. We’re here,” I tell Collie as the side-by-side pulls to an abrupt stop.
“I see that,” she murmurs, her hand flying to the passenger headrest.
“Welcome to Yellowstone National Park. America’s finest forest, with a whole lot of nothin’ but animals and landscape.
But somehow, that’s what makes her beautiful,” our driver, introduced as Dirty Dan, announces.
“Oh, and I hope you brought enough to stay warm. Weatherman said temps are ’bout to drop. ”
Great.
Dirty Dan acts as all things for our time here at the campsite.
After checking in at the Yellowstone ranger station at the front of the park, we were introduced to Dan.
He assured us upon arrival that if we need anything at all, he’s our guy.
I’d never want to judge a guy based on first impressions, but they were certainly questionable.
Collie couldn’t help but ask why they call him Dirty Dan. His answer: “When ya eat, sleep, and breathe the outdoors, dirt is in your blood, pretty lady. Ain’t much more to it than that.”
I could tell right away by Collie’s giggle that she finds him charming. Hiking boots, camouflage pants, with a puffer vest and all. He’s gotta be pushing seventy, but there’s something about Dirty Dan that makes me think I’ll leave here remembering him for years to come.
Circling around the UTV, I find Collie attempting to unload her things. It took a while for the airport to locate her luggage and have it sent to the gate for Jackson Hole. At first, I thought the attendant would need to call for a bigger plane with the amount of shit this woman has.
But nope. It’s all here. Two bags stuffed full.
One with a broken wheel, too.
“Let me get that for you,” I say, reaching for her bags and setting them beside us.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t put up a fight. “So, where’s our place?” Collie shivers as she speaks, and I really fucking hope she packed some warm clothes in those bags of hers. Collie searches for something she won’t find.
Not out here, at least.
“Didn’t even prep your wife for the honeymoon, bubba?” Dirty Dan directs his question to me. “Seems you’ve got some learnin’ to do when it comes to marriage.” He leans in to whisper, but it translates as a yell. “Pro tip: Never argue with your wife.”
“Not my wi—” I tell him at the same time Collie says, “There was no need. Right, honey? Not when I did all the planning.” Her eyes twitch, and her head nods at a freakishly high speed before turning to Dirty Dan.
“My new husband here isn’t much of a planner.
His priority was making sure we had plenty of alone time…
if you know what I mean.” She winks, and it’s distracting.
I bet that’s how she gets men in her bed.
Lures them in with her blue eyes made from perfectly polished sea glass.
“Uh…yeah. You know me,” I fake-chuckle while inwardly questioning her plan.
Dan laughs, gazing into Collie’s eyes. See what I mean? Distracting. “Oh, you bet your bottom dollar I get ya. In case those rangers never warned ya, the coyotes get loud at night. Best time to get after it if you find yourself in the mood.”