Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
He’d fallen asleep. Finally.
Scottie tiptoed out of her father’s bedroom, pulled the door shut, and worked her way down the hall, scooting past stacks of cardboard boxes, careful to avoid the creakiest spots in the old hardwood floor.
It was after two in the morning. The night stretched on, heavy with exhaustion, and her heart felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry.
Her dad had been discharged from the ER hours ago.
After evaluating him at the house, Caroline had insisted he get checked out.
Dr. Monroe had cleaned and bandaged his wounds, assessed him for a concussion, and prescribed the standard ibuprofen and Tylenol cocktail for the pain he’d insisted had gotten so much worse since the neighbor decked him.
“Oh, Dad,” Scottie whispered. “How did we get here?”
As she walked through the living room, she let her fingers trail over the stack of automotive magazines on the coffee table, the edges frayed from her dad’s restless flipping.
The room was dim, lit only by the glow of a streetlamp filtering through the curtains.
She absently collected an empty bowl with a few stray crumbs and a coffee mug that still held a cold splash of liquid.
The place needed a good dusting—probably a deep clean, if she was honest. A pang of guilt settled in her chest as she imagined Lainey’s judgmental glance at the clutter. Maybe she’d find time to clean before she left, but the thought made her stomach churn.
Was she leaving Redemption?
The icy realization hit her again, sharper this time. They still had weeks left to finish filming Ultimate Alaskan, but Lainey’s angry outburst from earlier echoed in her head, her words stinging like salt in a paper cut.
Oh, Scottie, please.
Lainey’s eye roll along with her snide, disgusted tone, so at odds with the warm, polished voice she used with guests at the bed-and-breakfast, had knifed across Scottie’s battered heart.
She’d always known it was only a matter of time before she and Lainey had it out, but she hadn’t expected it tonight—right after she’d been caught kissing Tate in the woods.
Tate.
She set the dirty dishes in the sink and leaned against the counter, wrapping her arms around herself as the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over. Oh, Tate. That kiss had been incredible. No, it had been more than incredible—it had been life altering.
Everything about their few minutes alone together had been amazing. The way he’d reached for her hand, tugged her to her feet, and found a way for them to escape the noise of the world for just a little while. He’d surprised her in the best possible way.
And now she regretted how she’d brushed him off, telling him she needed a minute—the “minute” that had stretched into hours. She’d done it because she’d thought she could smooth things over with Lainey quickly and then reconnect with Tate.
But now?
Now, it would probably be days before she saw him again.
Because she had to be on the dock at 8:00 a.m. to catch a boat for Port Frisco. They had a long day of filming scheduled.
Terrific.
She flipped off the kitchen light and trudged upstairs to her old bedroom.
The space wasn’t quite how she’d left it.
Dad had crammed almost every square inch of floor space with cardboard boxes and rubber storage totes.
Thankfully, the bed was cleared off. A black plastic alarm clock on the nightstand still worked, so she set it for 7:00 a.m. That would be pushing it, but she needed at least a few hours of sleep.
Her gaze landed on the black-and-white photograph sitting on the rolltop desk between the windows. It was of her younger self standing on the front steps of the house, flanked by her parents. She picked up the frame with trembling hands, and a fresh wave of tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Miss you, Mama,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
She traced her mother’s face in the photograph, her thumb brushing over the glass.
“If you were still here, I bet things wouldn’t be the way they are.
I don’t know what to do. You always taught me to love others and to trust God, to believe that His plans are good and that they’re always for me.
But, Mom…I just don’t know. This feels impossible. ”
Her voice cracked, and she pressed her forehead against the cool frame. “If I stay here, I’ll feel like an animal trapped in a snare. But if I leave, I’m disappointing everybody. And, honestly, that’s news to me. I kind of thought they liked it when I wasn’t around.”
She let out a shaky breath, then wiped her tears with the cuff of her button-down. “And Tate, my rock. I think you’d like him, Mom. We were just kids when you were around, but he’s turned into such a handsome, strong, faithful man. And that kiss…”
Laughter bubbled up, soft and bittersweet. “Okay, yeah, that kiss was…something else.”
She set the picture frame back on the desk, her fingers lingering on it for a moment before she turned away.
Pulling back the sheets, she climbed into bed and drew the worn comforter up to her chin. But sleep didn’t come easily. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stared at the ceiling, her heart aching with the weight of it all—her father, Lainey, Tate, the uncertainty of her future.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and she cried herself into a restless sleep.
Coffee from the Copper Kettle probably wasn’t the solution to his problems, but at this point, Tate would try almost anything. Well, anything legal.
Caffeine, sugar, a miracle—whatever worked. All he knew was that he felt like an idiot, and exhaustion wasn’t helping.
He pulled his truck to the curb near Redemption Outfitters. Caroline stepped out of the door that led to her second-story apartment, locking the door behind her. She spotted him, her smile flickering into concern.
“Hey, good morning.” Her steps faltered. “Uh-oh. What’s wrong? You look exhausted.”
“Yeah. Rough night.”
“Is it Gary? I thought he was discharged early this morning.”
“I wouldn’t know.” He kept his voice low as they passed three women sipping coffee outside the Copper Kettle. “Scottie hasn’t sent me an update.”
“Hey, Tate,” one of them called. “Heard you’re running for town council. Need help with your campaign strategy?”
“Thanks for the offer, Charlie. I’ll let you know.” He forced a tight smile and kept moving, not in the mood for small talk.
Caroline arched a brow. “So you’re really going through with it, huh?”
“Somebody’s got to fill that seat.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for that kind of pressure?”
“No.” He held the door for her, the warm smell of coffee and baked goods washing over him as they stepped inside. A few people glanced his way, offering polite nods. Tate and Caroline’s younger sister, Megan, worked the register, the line stretched nearly to the door.
He scrubbed his hand down his face. “Before you hear it from anyone else, I want you to know that Luke found me…having a moment with Scottie.”
Caroline gasped, clutching his sleeve. “Define moment.”
“You’ll be thrilled to know I finally threw caution to the wind. Tried spontaneous. She likes spontaneous, right? So…I kissed her.”
Caroline squealed and clapped her hands. “Tate, that’s a kiss decades in the making!”
“Huh. Really?” He stared straight ahead, pretending to study the menu he had memorized years ago.
“Oh, come on.” She nudged him in the ribs. “Don’t be coy. Did you think we didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
“We’ve all been waiting for you and Scottie. The way you two looked at each other last night? The tension? Oh man.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Super swoony.”
Tate’s face burned. “Oh my word, you’re so in love. It’s disturbing.”
“Me?” Caroline’s voice rose, earning a couple of curious stares. “This is about you, big guy.”
“Shh.” He leaned closer. “Could you keep it down? I don’t really need the whole town in on this.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that. Anyway, why do you look like somebody kicked your puppy?”
Because he felt like somebody had. He’d taken a chance, and it felt like the ground had given way beneath him. Scottie hadn’t exactly responded with joy. And now? Silence. Cold, unsettling silence.
“I feel for Lainey and Scottie.” Caroline shook her head. “They’re both juggling a lot.”
The line inched forward. Megan caught their eyes and grinned. “Hey, guys. Good morning. Your usual?”
“Actually, I want Tate to try something new,” Caroline said.
“All right.” Tate shrugged. “Because spontaneity is working so well for me right now.”
Caroline ignored him. “Megan, you still make the honey lavender latte?”
“You know it.”
“Two of those, please.”
“That is the girliest drink I’ve ever heard of,” Tate growled.
“And you will love it,” Megan said. “Hang tight, guys. Your order will be up in a few minutes.”
After he paid for the drinks, Tate and Caroline slipped into the only empty table, a high-top wedged against the wall. He slumped into his chair.
Caroline studied him. “What’s your next move?”
“I don’t know.” His voice came out raw, almost hollow. “I was so proud of myself for being bold. For finally acting on my feelings. And now? It feels like I made a huge mistake. Radio silence from her, and it’s…discouraging. Feels like maybe I’m not enough. Maybe I’ll never be enough.”
Caroline leaned forward, her long ponytail spilling over the shoulders of her green sweater. She reached out and squeezed his arm.
“Listen, I think it’s dangerous to assume that you’re not enough for Scottie.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours. You’ve been friends a long time.
The dynamic changes with a kiss, right? And Gary’s a challenge.
You know this. But just because things are complicated doesn’t mean you can’t work it out. ”
He huffed out a long breath. “Here’s the thing. We don’t exactly scream ‘compatible.’ She never stays anywhere for long. Camera operators have to go where there’s work. This is just a pit stop. And I’m not interested in moving.”
Caroline tilted her head. “Don’t make it sound like you’re chained here.”
“I’m not chained to anything. This is home. I love my work.”
“Probably just like Scottie loves hers.”
“So how do I build something real with someone who loves to pack up and go? I feel like I’ve put my heart out there already, and she just might be halfway out the door.”
Megan came over and set their drinks down. “Here you go. Thanks for waiting. Let me know what you think.” She patted Tate’s shoulder. “Keep an open mind, all right?”
Caroline slid her drink closer as Megan walked away. “Maybe your question is better suited for Scottie and not me.”
Tate looked away. Asking Scottie meant risking hearing the answer. And taking risks was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.
“You know,” Caroline said, “sounds a little bit similar to me and Jude.”
“How so?”
“He’s a competitive athlete. We’ll be apart half the year while he trains or competes in places that I can’t get to very easily. We could have decided that our relationship was impossible. But instead we’ve had to figure out if our love for one another matters enough to find a way forward.”
“Well, so far Scottie’s decided that Redemption doesn’t matter enough to her.”
“Is that true?”
“Feels true,” he said, staring out the window.
“If it is, that’ll hurt like crazy. But at least you won’t have to spend the rest of your life wondering what might have been. Listen, I was there last night. Scottie is into you. I could tell by the way she couldn’t stop craning her neck to find you.”
“Or see past the celebrities vying for her attention.”
“Dealing with some jealousy, huh?” Caroline grinned. “That’s good. Strong motivator. Last night Scottie didn’t look like a woman who was wanting to leave. She looked like she was trying to figure out how to get close to you.”
Caroline’s words slid in. Needled him. They meant more than he wanted them to, for sure. Because deep down he sort of wondered if maybe he was really afraid that Scottie might want to stay. And that he still might not be enough to make her choose him.
Tate shifted in his chair. “Scottie’s larger than life. It’s going to be hard to compete with the allure of movie sets and traveling the world. Did you know that she’s got her heart set on New Zealand?”
“Do you hear yourself right now? She doesn’t mean she wants to move to New Zealand. She means she wants to film a movie there. Take a trip. See what it’s like. Yes, that would be an extraordinary adventure. But it’s you she would come home to.”
“I don’t know,” he said, taking a tentative sip of the drink. It was rich coffee and light foam and a hint of lavender and honey. “Not bad.”
“Do you really think Scottie wants the dazzling Hollywood lights and nonstop chaos?” Caroline asked.
“I hope not, because I’m not any of that.”
“Exactly,” Caroline said. “She hasn’t had a lot of stability in her life, Tate. She is probably craving someone who is safe. You’re not holding her back. You’re the anchor she needs.”
Still, doubt gnawed at him. “And if she doesn’t see it that way?”
Caroline paused her drink halfway to her mouth. Her steely gaze bore into him. “You have to at least give her a chance to choose you. And if she doesn’t, that’s her mistake.”
So easy for her to believe in happily ever after. She had one. He wasn’t convinced his story would work out the same way that Caroline and Jude’s had. Not with Scottie. Not with someone who never stayed put.
He took another long sip of the honey lavender latte, then winced. It was really too sweet, to be honest. Too flowery, too wrong. Just like the ridiculous notion that Scottie would ever genuinely want him.