Chapter 26 Wrenley
Wrenley
I can’t believe what I’m looking at. It’s a view that exists on computer wallpaper and tourism websites.
Am I breathing?
I touch my chest to make sure.
Mountains have always been part of my life.
So normal that I’ve never really stopped to think about them.
They’ve simply always been there, rising behind Vancouver’s skyline like old friends.
But as I look out at the valley spread beneath us, an unsettling thought hits.
The future I’m working toward will never have this again.
Wherever I go, I likely won’t have a skyline anywhere as beautiful as this.
While mountains may exist, it won’t be as easy to see them. I don’t like that thought.
But at the same time, I realize that isn’t the only option. In fact, it’s not even the option that feels even fifty percent right.
I experienced a life doing something different than costume design, and I was good at it.
There were even moments I genuinely enjoyed it.
But since coming here, I’m realizing I’m sparking the passion in me that got me started in sewing in the first place, and it has nothing to do with runways or television credits.
I love watching someone put on a garment and stand a little taller because it finally fits the way they want it to.
I love teaching someone a skill they can carry forward the rest of their life.
I love taking something damaged and giving it new life.
In Alpine Harbor, I can help people who don’t have easy access to tailors or specialty shops.
I could teach sewing classes. I could help people alter and repair the clothes they already own instead of replacing them. I could build something meaningful.
The thought settles over me with surprising clarity.
Maybe I’ve spent so long trying to become the person I thought I was supposed to be that I never noticed here in the little end-of-the-road town, I’m becoming the person I wanted to be.
Wrenley? Ruger’s gentle voice makes me turn to him.
I turn to face Ruger, and as I do, another realization settles into place.
This whole time, I’ve been treating Alaska and Ruger as though they are the same choice tangled together so tightly there was no separating them.
But they’re not. If Ruger disappeared tomorrow, I’d still love this town and see the potential in it.
I realize that if I choose to stay, I won’t be sacrificing my future for a man.
What do you think? he asks.
I know he’s talking about the view, and now isn’t the time to unload everything spinning through my head. The realization is too new and fragile. It feels like something I should sit with for a little while longer before I hand it to someone else.
Besides, when it’s time to tell him, I’d rather do it alone.
As it stands, Remi is darting around the overlook, taking pictures of scenery and candid photos of all of us.
Brandt sits against a rock with a book open, completely unbothered by the fact that we’re standing in front of one of the most beautiful views on Earth.
It’s many things, but it isn’t exactly the setting for a life-changing conversation.
It’s eye-opening, I say finally.
Ruger steps closer, brushing my cheek with his thumb and letting it linger. My stomach does that familiar lurch, the one that comes every time he’s near. He pulls me into his chest, and I wrap my arms around his waist as we look out at the view together.
Eventually, we start back down the trail, and I look over my shoulder one last time and know I’ll remember this moment forever.
Back at the parking lot, the guys load the backpacks while Remi and I wait for them.
I guess I promised food, Ruger says, looking at Remi.
You did, she says.
Fine. Dinner at my place, Ruger says. Lab meat included.
Remi rolls her eyes.
That was a beautiful hike, Brandt says, stretching.
So beautiful you read a book? I ask.
This is my first time spending any real time with Brandt. Between him being Ruger’s friend and Remi’s… whatever he is to her… I kind of want to get to know the guy.
He shrugs. Look, when you grow up on a ranch with little to no electronics, you gotta get your kicks from somewhere. Mine was books.
But isn’t a book a little cumbersome? I ask. You could get an e-reader.
He makes a face. Absolutely not.
He has a cute little reading lamp he attaches to his book at night, Ruger teases.
Brandt gives him a playful punch.
I think reading is sexy, Remi says.
The sudden declaration hangs in the air. Even the caw of a raven seems to pause.
In general, she clarifies. I’m an author. What do you expect me to say? Books are stupid?
True, I say, stepping in, assuming she’s still trying to keep Ruger from knowing they’re doing anything, like showing up in the same vehicle isn’t suspicious as hell.
Brandt presses his lips together, but not before I catch the corner of his mouth twitching up.
Besides, Remi continues, crossing her arms, men who read tend to be more curious and intellectual.
Pretty sure that’s not why you called it sexy, Ruger says.
Remi points at him. You trap tourists in the wilderness for a living. Don’t judge my career.
I wasn’t?
I look down at the ground, fighting back a smile. Remi is really failing at hiding this.
Meanwhile, Brandt lets out a small snort.
Thank you, Remi says. I’m glad someone sees the humour in all this.
Okay, okay, I step in. Let’s focus on what’s important. That’s food. I’m hungry.
Agreed, Brandt says. We’ll meet you guys at your place.
Your place. I like that.
We all get into our respective vehicles. Brandt and Remi pull out first, and Ruger follows.
So, Ruger says. That was weird, right?
The hike?
Brandt and Remi.
I stare out the windshield, trying to buy myself a few seconds.
Carpooling makes sense, I say carefully. Good for the environment.
Ruger scoffs. Come on.
I look at the man I’m falling madly for, knowing Remi doesn’t want him to know. I think if there is anything to tell, we should let them tell us.
Ruger takes a breath, seemingly appeased by my answer, at least. He doesn’t push it further.
Instead, he reaches across the console, takes my hand, and presses a kiss to my knuckles.
My heart flutters at the feel of his lips against my skin, and it doesn’t stop as his thumb brushes over the top of my hand.
Thanks for entertaining my need for a hike, he says. I enjoyed it.
Anytime, I say.
And I absolutely mean it.