Chapter 2
Sutton
Iwake up like a man on a mission.
I don’t know why I’m especially energized today but for the first time in forever, I’m up before my alarm goes off which means I beat everyone else in the house to the coffee machine and get to sit outside on my porch swing and enjoy my morning caffeine fix in peace.
It’s so peaceful and calm, I almost consider not going to my newly constructed Zen Garden. Almost, but not quite. It’s part of my morning routine so I’m not about to disrupt things now.
An hour later when the rest of my family are only just starting their day, I make myself a breakfast smoothie and take the scenic route away from where our guest cabins are, not wanting to disturb our new guest who arrived yesterday.
Case was home to meet her and show her the one renovated cabin we have ready so far. The rest of us all planned our days around being here for a ‘meet the ranch’ lunch later today.
In the month since we got Blair’s booking, I’ve tried to find out what she’ll be doing at the hospital and where she’ll be working. So far, I’ve resisted the urge to look her up online though. I don’t like doing that to people when I can just as easily get to know her when she arrives.
Besides, it's likely we’ll see a lot of each other either way considering she’s going to be working at the same place as me.
It’s a small facility but it can cope with most emergencies. If there are patients requiring specialized care or surgery, they have to be transferred to Palmer or Anchorage.
That generally doesn’t affect me though as I work as a psychologist, running group therapy sessions as well as one-on-one appointments. I also do outpatient work for patients who have issues coming to the hospital. That’s a personal thing though and not something that anyone else offers.
It’s a lot different from when I had my own practice in Boston but I’m finding the work I’m doing here in town is more rewarding because I’m helping people who may not have access to the right treatment otherwise.
But as has always been the way since I dedicated myself to helping others, I have to look after myself first.
Carefully walking through the cold-hardy bamboo that encloses the garden, I step inside the sanctuary I’ve created–and something I’m most proud of on the ranch–and take a slow, deep breath.
As well as the bamboo, there are also two Oak trees that first drew me to this space on the mountain. They act as anchors for the garden, stalwarts standing tall and merging the old and the new.
Our youngest brother Jude helped me pick out the right plants, a mix of natives and small trees that will grow thicker and bigger. The hope is that in a few more years the whole space will be fully enclosed, creating an oasis where we can escape when we need to.
There’s also a small man-made pond with a commissioned volcanic stone and driftwood water feature in the middle.
I saw another sculpture like it in the town’s farmer’s market on weekend.
After talking to its creator, I asked him to make one that would be perfect for a Zen Garden tucked high on the mountain.
That’s how I ended up with two entwined stone salmon in mid-leap, positioned over a big chunk of rock. The best part is that recycled water slowly trickles from their mouths, providing relaxing ambient sound in the background.
Standing here looking over the whole garden, I smile. It truly is like slipping into another world–a quiet one where it feels like the noise and weight of life can’t reach you.
In here it’s just you, the mountain air, and a safe space to breathe.
When my brothers and I sat down and discussed our plans for the ranch. I wanted something just like this to be my personal project.
We each have one. Will has the cabin renovations along with our ranch hand, Wyatt.
Case has his Christmas tree farm which he planted a few months ago, and Jude—the landscape architect of the family–is in charge of the greenhouse and plans for supplementing the ranch’s future income by selling produce and plants at the farmer’s market.
But the Zen Garden, that’s all me. Because of that, I make sure to visit daily.
Today I want to journal my thoughts–empty my brain, if you will. It will be interesting to look back on it in a few months after Blair has been here for a while. I have no doubt that she’ll fit in with us though. Call it a gut feeling.
Sitting down on the big handmade bench Will made from old Oak offcuts he found stored in Gramps’s underground bunker, I pull out my small leather-bound notebook I found amongst Gramps’s belongings when we first arrived.
I haven’t shown it to anyone because it was hidden amongst papers in his old desk and had my name etched into it.
That same desk still sits pride of place in my bedroom and the journal is always with me. It’s like I’m keeping Gramps close to me.
Gramps always understood me, even when I was a moody kid who was sick of being scared of everything all the time. He never made me feel less for having an anxiety disorder, and as with everything he did for us kids, he just wanted to make life easier for me in any way he could.
Gramps picked up on my anxiety during one of the many summer trips my siblings and I made here while growing up. Where my brothers would be adventurous and curious about everything the mountain, the ranch, and the town had to offer, I held back.
Slowly but surely, he encouraged me to embrace my thoughts, worries, and constant overthinking and take little steps out of my comfort zone.
Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.
Ridley Cooper was a mountain man born and bred.
He was tough, he was strict, and to a lot of people on the outside looking in, a little… eccentric.
To me, he was a hard shell with a soft, gooey center. And yes, different to anyone else I’d ever met. My love, adoration, and respect for the man that helped shape the person I am today.
So, when his lawyer told us the land, its holdings, and half of the mountain ridge would be ours if me and my brothers all moved to the ranch, I didn’t flinch.
I missed my brothers, and our lives had all pulled us in different directions.
Gramps somehow knew we needed to reconnect and be together again.
I knew I needed to be back with my family again too.
We’ve been here six months now, and it wasn’t long after we arrived that we knew we could never leave this place.
Even before Will met Birdie, the mayor’s daughter, and before Case reunited with Birdie’s best friend, Isla, who he’d unknowingly met and forged a connection with the night before Gramps’s will reading.
Now both couples are engaged and are having a double wedding in four weeks’ time here on the ranch.
There’s also a family lore at play which helped bring Birdie and Isla into Will and Case’s lives. The belief is that a spirit living deep within the mountain calls soulmates to those linked to the Cooper bloodline as a reward for protecting and caring for her lands.
It seemed unbelievable at first, but witnessing the mountain’s Call for ourselves, first with Will and Birdie, then with Case and Isla, it’s impossible not to put our trust in fate. We’ve even met the author of many books that chronicle the prophesy, Aster Hollingsworth.
That’s not to say I’m sitting here waiting for my soulmate to suddenly burst into my life and announce herself. For all we know Jude could be next in line to meet the love of his life.
With a pen in hand, I open the cover and run my fingers over the quote written in my grandfather’s unmistakable penmanship.
"I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it." - Maya Angelou
Then I lose myself in the page, writing down my thoughts about the day that’s just past and the one ahead of me, my feelings right now and the anticipation of meeting Blair. I want her stay here to be the best it could possibly be. I want her to feel included, like one of the family.
Once my head is clear, I carefully pack the notebook away and stand up and close my eyes for a moment. Taking a deep breath, I savor the fresh and clean mountain air and let the familiar whispers of wind sneaking through the bamboo ground me.
That’s when I hear it, a high-pitched screech in the distance followed by the unmistakable grating bray of Grumps the donkey. Muffled yells and squawks get closer and louder, then I hear the heavy thud of hooves hitting the ground at a quick pace. Too quick. Too close.
A sense of foreboding replaces my calm and before I can grab my stuff to go investigate, the bamboo stalks shake and suddenly the very last person I ever thought I’d see on the mountain–my mountain–appears in front of me.
So much so, I consider the possibility that I’ve slipped into a fugue state and somehow time-traveled back to the Boston University quad more than ten years earlier.
That’s because the woman I never met but felt an intense connection to, a stranger who lit up the space around her from half a football field away and who changed the trajectory of my life forever, is standing wide-eyed and mussed up in front of me wearing a pair of pink polka-dot pajamas.
It’s her. My Boston crush. The gorgeous stranger I could never speak to. She’s here.
I shake my head and close my eyes before opening them again, hoping to reset my brain. It doesn’t work though because she’s still standing there, and she’s looking at me like she already knows me.
“Hey, Case. Sorry to disturb your meditation. Did that donkey of yours trample this way? He stole my…” Her eyes go from wide (and beautiful) to warm (and beautiful) before her gaze narrows. Meanwhile, I stand there completely motionless, just staring at her.
Did I hit my head or something? Because I swear that the girl I always wished I could talk to not only just spoke to me, she thinks I’m my brother… Seriously. Is the universe laughing at me or what?