Epilogue – Avery
Epilogue
AVERY
I sat down in the first-class seat and dropped my head back against the chair and exhaled.
“Rough day?”
Opening one eye, I turned slightly to see a very handsome man sitting in the window seat. He looked to be a few years older than me, with sandy-brown hair and ocean-blue eyes that instantly took my breath away.
With a sigh, I smiled. “It’s been a long flying day.” Glancing down, I saw the drink in his hand. “Looks like it’s been for you as well?”
He lifted the drink. “I’ve already had three beers while I was waiting for my flight.”
I nodded.
“Where are you coming from?” he asked, a southern drawl to his voice.
“Paris.”
He raised his brows. “I would think your layover would have been in New York City?”
“Oh, it should have been, but the airlines had to change around my flights because of the storms. So here I am, in Dallas, trying to make my way to Montana.”
“Wow. That is a long travel day for you.”
I laughed. “Tell me about it. Nine hours and fifty minutes from Paris, then the flight to Dallas.” I rolled my eyes. “Now another three-hour flight. And if that isn’t enough, it’s family dinner night.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
With a shake of my head, I answered, “No, not at all. On a typical Sunday, family dinner night would be wonderful. It’s just after the long flights, I’m going to be exhausted and want to crawl into a bed and sleep for twelve hours. Instead, I’ll be chatting it up with my parents, and brother, and his girlfriend, Mackenzie.”
“Do you not like Mackenzie?”
“I adore her,” I said with a smile. “She’s made my brother so happy, and that makes me happy.”
He saluted with his drink. “That’s a good thing, then.”
I laughed and nodded. “Where are you coming from?”
He pointed to the floor of the plane. “Born and raised right here in Dallas, Texas.”
Before I could ask him anything else, the flight attendant asked if anyone wanted anything to drink. The stranger held up his empty glass, while I politely declined a drink. I pulled out my phone and sent off a quick text to the family group chat.
Me: Hey! I’m on my final flight and will be there soon!
Mom: Bradly and Mackenzie will be there!
Bradly: Is that today? I thought that was tomorrow.
I rolled my eyes and chuckled.
Me: As if Mackenzie would let you forget to pick up your sister. She’s good for you.
Bradly: She is, indeed. We’ll be there. Love you, sis. Have a safe flight.
Dad: Safe flight, baby girl. We’re so glad you’re finally home to stay!
Mom: So very happy! I love you. Safe flight.
Me: Love you all back. Gotta go, pulling back from the gate. See you in a few!
Glancing to my right, I saw the handsome stranger looking out the window. The captain came on and announced we were clear for takeoff…and my seatmate gripped the armrests. Was he afraid of flying?
“Sometimes if you talk during takeoff, it doesn’t seem so bad,” I said, as I leaned closer to him.
He snapped his head around and stared at me. “I hate flying. Well, I hate the takeoff and the landing.”
Giving him a sympathetic smile, I said, “Just take in some deep breaths.”
He dropped his head back and closed his eyes as we raced down the runway.
He looked as if he was about to get sick. I reached for his hand on instinct, then swore he was going to break my fingers with how hard he was squeezing.
“There was this one time I was walking down a runway in a Stella McCartney dress. The Princess of Spain was in the audience, and so was Lady Gaga.”
He turned his head and stared at me as if I had turned purple.
“I was so nervous that I was going to slip and fall, or the back of my dress would get caught in my panties, or something equally mortifying. When I spotted Lady Gaga sitting in the front row, I thought for sure I was going to throw up right there on her.”
His head tilted in the most adorable way. “You’re a model?”
“Was. I was a model. Anyway, she looked right at me and smiled! The most genuine of smiles that anyone has ever given me. I was instantly put at ease, and I walked that runway like I owned the son-of-a-bitch. I’m shorter than most of the models, and when I got picked by Stella to wear this particular design, a lot of them were pissed. I was convinced they were going to sabotage me in some way and cause me to fall.”
He looked shocked. “Would they do that?”
Shrugging, I replied, “I wouldn’t put anything past a bunch of competing women. And models can be vicious. Fashion used to be my dream. I moved to France when I was fifteen, and the first few years were like a dream, until I realized I wasn’t cut out for that world.”
“Why not?” he asked, letting my poor hand go.
“One word. Drama. I’m just not about it.”
He grinned, and I tried to ignore the way that made my stomach feel like the plane had just dipped. I looked around. Had it? No, the stranger would have grabbed my hand again.
“So what’s bringing you to Montana?” I asked.
His smile faded, and he cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry, totally none of my business.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he let out a soft sigh. “My mother passed away from cancer a year ago.”
At that moment, the plane started to turn, and he grabbed my hand again and looked out the window.
I placed my free hand over his. He glanced down and noticed he was holding mine and quickly let go again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Lifting my hand, I wiggled my fingers and thumb. “All good!”
He smiled, and I noticed a single dimple in his left cheek. Ugh. That was hot. And he was hot.
The spell was broken when he started to speak again. “Anyway,” he said, his smile fading and a sad expression taking its place. “My mother passed away, and when I was going through her belongings I stumbled upon some letters. She never told me who my father was. She talked about him a lot, said he was in the Marines, but told me it was best if I didn’t know anything about him. At the time, I was happy with my life and didn’t feel like I needed or wanted to know who he was, so I never pressed her about it.”
I turned in my seat, already invested in the story. The flight attendant appeared again, and the stranger ordered another drink. I could tell he was well on his way to being tipsy.
“The letters were from your father. Right?”
Nodding, he said, “Yeah. They were. It turned out she named me after him, much to my grandfather’s disliking.”
“Oh! So Granddad found out about them?”
He pointed to me and nodded. The flight attendant showed up again with his drink and my Dr. Pepper. She took our orders for food, and finally left so we could get back to the story.
“Okay, so your grandfather found out. And I take it that he didn’t like your dad?”
“Apparently not. Told her to stop seeing him or he’d cut her off from the family…and the family money.”
My eyes went wide. “Wow. He really didn’t like Marines, did he?”
The handsome stranger laughed. “I guess not. Or maybe it was just this one in particular. My grandfather’s very wealthy. One of the wealthiest men in Texas, actually. He was probably more worried that someone was trying to use his daughter for money, or take her to Montana and away from his beloved Texas.”
“Did you learn anything from the letters?”
“Yeah,” he said with a sad smile. “He wrote my mother all the time. He came from what sounded like a wealthy family himself, so I knew he wasn’t with her for the money. He talked about marrying her as soon as he got out of the Marines and bringing her home to his family.”
I put my hand over my heart. “That’s so romantic.”
He looked at me and smiled. Then he said, “Cattle ranchers.”
“I’m sorry?”
“His family, they were cattle ranchers.”
That caused me to perk up. There were a lot of cattle ranchers in Montana, but only a handful of them could truly count themselves as wealthy. “Did you find out in the letters how they met?”
“No. From what I can tell, my mother met him when she was living near a Marine Corps base while going to school. They fell in love with each other, and he vowed to marry her when he got out. The last letter she wrote to him was the one telling him that she was pregnant with me. She mentioned she was so excited because he was getting out of the Marines soon, and he promised he would come get her, marry her, and take her to Montana. It didn’t seem like she was worried at all about telling him she was pregnant.”
“How do you know what her letter said to him?” I asked.
I thought his eyes couldn’t hold any more sadness, but I was wrong. “It was returned, unopened. There was a note with her returned letter, telling her that my father had been killed in the line of duty.”
My hand flew to my mouth as I attempted to keep my emotions at bay. “How sad. Your mother was all alone, without the man she loved, and now she had to tell her family she was pregnant. Were your grandparents upset with her?”
He shook his head. “No, my grandparents told her everything would be okay. She took a job at my grandfather’s oil company, and worked there right up until she was diagnosed with cancer.”
I took his hand in mine. “Oh…I’m so sorry. And I just realized we haven’t introduced ourselves.”
A nervous bubble of laughter came from him. “Christ, I cannot believe I just told a stranger all of that.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “I guess I’m drunk.”
“No. Maybe if you have another drink, you will be.”
He turned and met my gaze, and for a crazy half second, I wanted to kiss him.
Swallowing hard, he softly said, “I haven’t told anyone since I found the box of letters six months ago.”
“Six months! You’ve kept this to yourself for that long? Why?”
“My grandfather wasn’t very happy with me when he found out I was coming to Montana to search out my deceased father’s family. It’s been an argument between us for awhile now. He doesn’t understand why I want to meet them. I don’t actually know why I’m going to Montana, if I’m being honest.”
“You’re curious, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Do they know you’re coming?”
A look of embarrassment crossed his face. “No. No. I haven’t really figured that part out. I mean, how do you walk up to someone’s door and say, ‘Hi there, I’m your dead son’s kid he never knew about’?” He looked back at me and shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I’m so sorry. The last thing you probably wanted is to hear my sob story.”
“Are you kidding? I’m enthralled, and I feel like I’m totally invested now.”
He laughed, and I realized I liked the sound of it. Reaching out my hand, I said, “I’m Avery Littlewood.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Avery. I’m Beck Dahlstrom.”
My eyes went wide as I instantly focused on that intense blue gaze…
Blue eyes I’d seen my entire life growing up were staring back at me.
His words from earlier came rushing back to me. “It turned out she named me after him, much to my grandfather’s disliking.”
“So, does your father’s family live in Missoula?” I asked lightly.
“No,” he said. “They live in a little town south of there called Hamilton. They own a ranch there, the Shaw Cattle Ranch.”
It was my turn to grab the armrests.
Holy shit! This is Uncle Beck’s son—that no one knows anything about!
Well, he wasn’t technically my uncle, and I wasn’t in any way related to Beck Dahlstrom. For which a part of me was very thankful, because for the last several minutes I’d been having lustful thoughts about him.
When I didn’t say anything, he narrowed his eyes slightly and studied me. “Have you heard of it before?”
I swallowed and somehow found my voice. “I live in Hamilton, Montana.”
His eyes went wide. “You’re kidding me. You do? Do you know the Shaw family?”
“I, um…I do. Where are you staying?”
Frowning, he replied, “Bitterroot Inn. Why?”
With a smile that I prayed wasn’t showing I was freaking out inside, I asked, “Would you like to come to family dinner with me tonight?”