Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Now
Raine
I pull my car into the driveway that leads to Ryland’s cabin. I caught a glimpse of it when Olivia and I attended Ryland’s cookout. However, being this close gives me a sense of familiarity as I take in its worn wooden exterior. It looks like a typical two-story cabin in the woods, but the updates Ryland has made over the years have brought it back to life.
The roof has been redone, now the same color as the updated dark-green front door. A wooden balcony on the top floor has been added to match the refurbished front porch that wraps around to the back. I’ve always loved the large windows that allow the people inside to enjoy the gorgeous landscape of evergreens and the blue water of the lake.
Covewood brings a variety to its people and travelers. Where there are rolling green hills full of farmlands, there are also flourishing wooded areas next to the large lake. People come from all over to escape while visiting Covewood. My life before was spent despising this place and wanting to run away from it, only to find my soul secretly yearning to return to my roots.
“Hey,” Ryland says softly, the crinkles by his eyes showing as he makes his way down the porch steps. He’s wearing a gray long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of blue jeans. My gaze trails up his veiny forearms to the swell of his muscular shoulders and up to his multicolored irises.
He waltzes toward me, placing his hands onto my waist, and leans in to press his lips against my own. I grin, closing my eyes, and wait. However, a tiny squeal interrupts us.
“Raine!” Annabelle rushes past her dad and wraps me into a hug before pulling me toward the cabin. “I helped Daddy cook dinner! Come see what we made.”
I giggle and allow her to lead the way, catching a glimpse of Ryland as he shakes his head. Annabelle leads me through the living room and into the kitchen. Once we’re at the stove, she prompts me to pick her up.
“We made chicken poop.” She beams and points toward the skillet.
“You made what?” I ask, my eyes growing wide.
Ryland barks out a laugh as he shuts the front door behind him. “That’s what Pops named the meal years ago.”
My eyebrows raise when I look down to study what exactly is for dinner. Whatever it is, it smells amazing and thankfully looks nothing like chicken poop. I can make out small pieces of cooked chicken and sliced browned potatoes with shredded cheese melted on top.
“I cooked this for Pops, and he loved it. One day, I asked him what he’d like for dinner, and he told me to whip up some of that chicken poop he loved.” He chuckles at the memory. “However, Pops said a bad word instead. So, we started calling it chicken poop . Annabelle has a fun time telling people we eat chicken poop for dinner, if you couldn’t tell.”
Ryland slides in behind us, his hand finding the spot on my lower back, and smiles down at me. “Just trust us, you’ll love it.”
Annabelle giggles, pressing her fingers by her lips before adding, “Yeah, trust us.” I can trust them with my heart , a little voice sings in the back of my mind.
“Okay,” I reply, and Annabelle’s smile completely melts me.
I realize that I never asked Ryland about Annabelle’s mother or why she isn’t a part of their life. It makes me sad for Annabelle, knowing how it felt to have an absent parent. But that sorrow is replaced with joy as I watch her hop from my arms and run into her father’s. She’s nothing but a ball of happiness and love, a reflection of her father’s parenting. The sight of them together makes me swoon.
I take out my phone and snap a quick photo of them, wanting to freeze this moment in time. While the two of them finish preparing dinner, I walk around the living room. One of my favorite things to do in someone’s home is look at the photographs they hang on their walls. To me, it tells a lot about someone’s heart with what they display in their home. I wish that photographs were like tunnels, that you could crawl inside them and go back to that moment.
Photographs of Ryland’s younger years hang near the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. Zane and him hiking together. Ryland sitting next to his Nan on the porch. Ryland’s mother wrapping her two boys in a tight hug and smiling so brightly. Pops looking proud as the boys hold up a large fish. So many sweet photographs I've seen before.
Then I move through the living room and see moments I've missed. A grown Ryland with his Pops next to their company office. Many photographs of family members with Annabelle, always surrounded by love. The ones that tug my heart the most are, of course, the photographs of Annabelle throughout the years, watching her grow through each image.
Behind his couch sits a large canvas of Ryland holding a newborn Annabelle in his arms. I don’t know why it's bothering me at this moment, knowing how much I have missed since leaving, but it does. Here we are, days away from the farmhouse being finished, and I’m expected to return to my life in Rockdale. However, I don’t want to leave.
I want to stay.
I sense Ryland behind me. The scent of him wraps around me, filling my nose. I turn and look at him as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. As he unfolds the leather and pulls out a small piece of paper, I notice it’s not paper but a photograph. It’s the Polaroid image of me at fifteen, standing in front of the oak tree at the farm that Ryland captured what feels like a lifetime ago.
A bashful grin tugs against his lips as his hazel eyes move from the photo to my face. “I’ve carried this with me ever since the day that I took it.” he admits.
My heartbeat picks up, a growing reaction my body seems to have when I’m around Ryland. He brings his arms around me and places my head perfectly onto his chest. I breathe in his scent again and close my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy every bit of this embrace.
“I love you,” I whisper, loving how comforting it feels to say it.
I feel his breath catch, like my words affect him just as much as his do to me. He gives the top of my head a kiss, the gesture zipping down my body and tingling my toes. “I love you, Rainbow.”
We hear Annabelle shout that dinner is ready, and we make our way to the table hand in hand. She catches our hands together and gives me a grin as she points to a chair. “Raine sits here.”
I take my seat, folding my long skirt under my legs, and notice the plate she sits before me has Disney characters decorating it. “You broke out the fancy china tonight, I see.”
“Fancy china?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.
She points to the chair that sits in front of me and has Ryland take his seat. “Sweet, I scored the Aladdin plate,” Ryland states and beams at his daughter .
“It’s your favorite,” she says matter-of-factly before sliding into the seat next to me. “Daddy knows all of the songs and likes to act like the Genie.”
My eyes widen. “Oh, I would love to see that!”
“I bet you would,” Ryland adds before taking a drink from his cup, which also matches his plate.
We reach out and intertwine our hands together before bowing our heads and thanking God for our meal. Then, we dig in. And the food is absolutely mouth-watering. Ryland filled a toasted tortilla with the chicken, potato, and cheese concoction along with sour cream and picante sauce.
“Oh my gosh,” I mumble through a mouthful. I don’t miss how Ryland’s eyes brighten with satisfaction. How they trail down my face until they land on my neck as I swallow. “This is delicious.”
“Told ya!” Annabelle shouts, tossing her hands in the air with a beaming smile, earning a chuckle from her father that slithers down into my heart.
After we finish up dinner, I help Annabelle wash the dirty dishes. We end up soaked in water with beards made out of bubbles. Ryland laughs and snaps a few photos of us before snatching Annabelle away to get her a change of clothes. When he comes back into the kitchen, I have the dishes dried and put away.
He hands me a Kentucky blue sweatshirt to change into. I go into the bathroom to change and inhale his scent, knowing there is no way I’m giving this back to him. I take off my soft-pink tank top and pull the sweater over my head. Thankfully, my skirt is just a little damp. As I step back into the living room, Ryland’s eyes are heavy-lidded at the sight of me in his clothes.
“I’m keeping this,” I tell him before Annabelle jumps between us, clothed in Bluey pajamas, and pulls us to the living room couch.
“Can we please watch Aladdin before bed, Daddy? ”
Ryland looks at his watch and then to me before asking, “Want to watch Al ?—”
“Yes!” I say a little too loudly, earning a laugh from him.
“Alright, then I’ll go get us some cookies to eat while we watch.” He winks at me, and I swear I have one of those moments you only see in Hallmark movies where my knees become weak, and I flop myself onto his couch with a sigh.
Annabelle places her tiny hand into mine, scooting in close beside me. She turns, looks at me, and from her expression I expect her to ask a serious question. However, I can’t hide the laugh that escapes me as she asks, “Okay, if you had to choose between marrying Aladdin or Kristoff, who would it be?”
“Most definitely Aladdin,” Ryland says to her, winking at me as he sets down a plate of cookies.
“Good, because I wanted Kristoff.” Annabelle crosses her arms and gives me a proud smile before shoving a cookie into her mouth, much like her father does at the same time.
Ryland leans back against the couch, making sure his arm is across the back so he can place a hand on my shoulder. Annabelle is squeezed in between us. He hits play on the movie, and Annabelle wasn’t lying about Ryland knowing every song. I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, but watching him mimic the Genie, word for word, including the gestures, is the best thing I’ve ever witnessed. I make sure to record a video to watch later.
Once Aladdin sinks to the bottom of the water, we hear soft snores coming from Annabelle. Her head is leaning against Ryland and her hand is still wrapped in mine. Ryland notices and gives me a gentle smile as he whispers, “I’ll get her into bed. Want to hang out on the porch?”
“I mean, I’d like to see you finish your performance, but I guess we can save that for another time.”
“Another time,” he repeats before pulling Annabelle into his arms. “There’s some Ale-8’s in the fridge. Why don’t you grab us some, and I’ll meet you on the porch? ”
I grab two bottles from his fridge and make my way to his back porch. I take a seat in one of Ryland’s wooden rocking chairs, and as I take my first satisfying sip and inhale the scent of the forest, nostalgia hugs me. I’ve always loved it here, being surrounded by these woods and the lake, a teenage boy deciphering my dreams and promising to make them come true.
Ryland slides the back door closed behind him and scoots his chair closer to me before picking up his drink. We hold our bottles out, clink them together, and say, “Cheers!” like we used to do. He pops open the lid and takes a big glub. I shamelessly stare as he closes his eyes, throat bobbing with each gulp, a joyful, “Ahh,” sound escaping his full lips afterward. He looks at me, his smile moving slowly across his face like a moonrise.
“So,” he says, rubbing his hands together and leaning his elbows onto his long legs.
“You’ve done a great job with Annabelle,” I tell him before taking a swig of my drink, savoring the familiar flavor.
“Thank you. I can’t take all the credit, of course. Mom helps a lot. She’s had great influences in her life. Pops, Zane, your grandparents…” His eyes glance over the lake, looking as if his mind is far away in the past.
I finally ask the question I’ve been dying to have an answer to. “What’s the story with Annabelle’s mom?”
He lets out a whistle and pushes himself to lean back against his chair, his hazel eyes lightened by the reflection of the moonlight. He hesitates for a moment before looking at me.
“If you feel comfortable sharing it with me,” I add, pulling my legs up to hug them close to my chest.
He drags a palm down his jaw, exhaling deeply, and his shoulders drop from the weight this topic must bring him.
“When you left, my whole world fell apart. I was depressed. Any free moment I had, I’d drown my pain with alcohol. Whiskey was easier for me to swallow than accepting that I messed up and you weren’t coming back. ”
My breath hitches at his words, not expecting him to start the story with us.
“Raine, you were everywhere. Everywhere but physically with me. And it hurt . I couldn’t go to certain places without memories of you coming to the surface. I couldn’t listen to certain songs. Even certain scents brought you back to me. And it broke me over and over again.”
There are some memories that are unforgettable that remain vivid. I can tell this is one for Ryland. His choices after I left took a toll on him. It’s hard accepting how badly we broke each other.
“I met Maggie, Annabelle’s mom, two summers after you left. She was staying at the rental cabin with her folks, but we met at one of those bonfire parties people like to throw at the lake. I had no intention of finding someone else, but once we started talking and I realized she was just as broken as me, we bonded over our shared love of whiskey. I didn’t know it at the time, but we were very toxic to one another. Thankfully, she was only visiting for a short time—or so I thought.
“After Maggie left that summer, we had no plans of keeping in contact, but after a few months had went by, she found me on Facebook and messaged me to call her. It seemed urgent, so I did, and that was when she told me she was pregnant.”
Ryland’s face falls, and he runs a hand through his hair. His eyes find mine again, and my chest tightens. Ryland places his elbows on his legs, his hands folded together, as he continues.
“I was so scared. I kept thinking, who am I to try to raise a kid? What if I ended up just like my father?”
“You’ll never be like him,” I say, my voice sounding small.
“I was very close to being like him back then. But after I told Pops and Mom, they reminded me that it wasn’t about me anymore and that I needed to get right in every aspect of my life. They basically gave me an intervention, and after a lot of prayer and guidance from the man upstairs, I drove all the way to Colorado and begged Maggie to come live in Covewood with me.
“Her family was not supportive of her decision, but my family was. So, Mom and Zane moved in with Pops and they gave this cabin to me and Maggie to live and raise Annabelle in.”
“Did you love Maggie?” the question leaves my lips. I’m not sure why I need to know, but I feel it in my core. I have to know if he loved her. I want to know everything I’ve missed in his life since I left.
“I cared. I had respect for her, but I don’t think I ever allowed myself to fall in love with her. I couldn’t .” His eyes pierce my own.
I feel the weight of what he is saying. Ryland is looking at me with such tender affection that it feels like a kiss. A knuckle under my chin, pulling me toward his face.
He looks out toward the lake and continues, “I did, however, fall head over heels for a tiny little girl. Annabelle stole my heart the moment I first held her in my arms. I never understood how she didn’t steal Maggie's heart, but after a few months, Maggie started leaving for long hours and would come home either high or drunk. I believe she was suffering from postpartum depression, but she refused any help that I offered her.
“One day, she told me that she didn’t feel like she could be a mom and said she wanted to sign her rights over. I tried to argue with her, but she had made up her mind. Annabelle was nine months old when her mother chose to leave her. It has been the two of us since, and I made sure to turn my life around after Annabelle was born. She saved me. She gave me my life back.”
We stay silent for a while, a storm slowly brewing within my gut from his words, as I realize how self-centered I have been this whole time.
“I’m so selfish,” I whisper, allowing the words to hang between us for a moment before I continue. “I chose to leave because of my own fears and selfish reasons. I didn’t think about how it might affect others. I honestly thought everyone would be fine without me.”
His expression softens as he replies, “It wasn’t your fault, Raine. I was the one who tore us apart.”
Ryland deserves to know that I no longer hold the mistakes of his youth against him. “You were scared, Ry. I get it now. I didn’t have to leave, but I was so hurt and living in constant fear. I just?—”
The sound of his exhale catches my attention. I watch as he runs a hand over the hair along his jaw before meeting my eyes. “There’s more to the story.”