Chapter Thirty-five #2
“S’what I called it when I was younger,” Liz answered.
“Brett would go in there in the evenings, and I’d hear him yelling sometimes.
The window faces the side of the house, where our bunkhouse was.
I always wondered if he watched sports in there or something so as not to disturb Veronica. Had no idea it was—”
She stopped, realizing it was likely where he’d kept all the information about finding Jake and his mother. Or whatever else he didn’t want anyone finding out about. Lord knew what that was, the number of secrets they had uncovered in the past few weeks.
Her mother bustled back in, an armload of something that she dumped onto the counter. It was motley shades of pink, with red splashed in random places. Jake picked it up, thumbing over the stitching.
“Something about a handmade thing gives it value, you know? Even if you don’t know who made it right away,” she said.
“My mother’s sense of style was practical. Didn’t matter what it looked like, as long as it did the job,” Jake replied, and set it down again. He must have sensed that Liz was confused because he looked up at her and the side of his mouth quirked up.
“My mother made this.”
“Ah,” Liz replied, and touched the blanket. “This is just like the ones we have out at my place. They’re really great in the winter, but I always thought they were, ah—”
“Ugly as fuck? Yes,” Jake supplied, and they giggled together.
Peony gave Jake a reprimanding eye for his language, then smiled. “Take it. Yours. It shouldn’t be just left to get dustier than it already is. Not everything about Heather’s memory is bad, my dear.”
Jake nodded and slid it over to one side, the lost look sliding across his face again. Tanner strode back in a moment later, his phone in his hand. He pinched the bridge of his nose and bowed his head.
“Brady okay?” Liz asked.
“He’s headed back. Be a half hour or so, he said.”
“Where’d he go?” she asked.
“Didn’t say. I saw him right before he took off. Stalked out of the stables like he was bein’ chased before I caught up to him,” Tanner added, leveling his eyes at her, raising one eyebrow.
“Okay, well, I’ll go first ,then,” Liz exclaimed, hoping to derail that conversation, because she didn’t want Tanner to ask if Brady’s mood had anything to do with her conversation with him. She was still thinking about what Trevor had said about Brady’s real father.
“No point in waiting,” she added for good measure.
She picked up the envelope for her, reading her name looped on the front. Her full name. Elizabeth Jaqueline Baker. The one her mother used when she needed to get Liz’s attention.
“These are private, Liz, if you want to look at it later, that’s okay,” Jake said, coming over to her and ducking down to catch her eye. “There’s no rush.”
Part of her wanted to hurl the damned thing into the garbage unseen.
Brett wasn’t her father. There had been a small part of her, when her mother had married him, that thought maybe he could become that for her, but it had never really happened, and perhaps that was partly on her for not fully trusting him.
But Brett had always been gruff, like he didn’t know what to say or do with a girl, kept her at arm’s length. He could reprimand her fine, but there was never any softness sent her way as a kid, and definitely not when she got old enough to argue with.
She didn’t hold a grudge against him for that, but it had stung a bit when she’d turned eighteen and he’d given her the keys to the bunkhouse she and her mom had originally lived in.
He’d unceremoniously barked that it was time she took care of herself, and that was that.
She’d moved out of the spare room that Jake now stayed in, no longer a part of whatever it was they had settled into as a family of five.
“I don’t care. Not like he was my dad or anything. Barely put up with me,” she muttered, and decided she did want to see what was inside after all, to confirm it. She lifted the flap with her index finger and ripped the envelope open.
A nondescript card with a galloping palomino horse remarkably like Dolly fell onto the counter, and she picked it up, curious.
A card? He must have been well and truly fried when he wrote all these, because the quaintness of the card was unlike the no-nonsense man it was from.
She opened it and a folded piece of paper fell out, but the card was blank.
“Want me to read it?” she asked. “I don’t mind.”
Everyone was silent as she flipped the paper, not unfolding it, just feeling the ominous silence from everyone. She looked at her mother, who was twisting the edge of the blanket she’d brought out for Jake, worriedly biting her lip.
“No,” Jake said firmly, flicking his eyes over to her mother, closing his hand over hers holding the paper. “Read it to yourself.”
Shit. She stuffed the card and letter back into the envelope, and then reached her hand out to her mother, who grasped it with a firmness she’d not felt from her in months. She pulled her mother into a hug, squeezing her gently. Jake had seen her mother’s distress before she had, once again.
“I’m sorry, Mom. Let’s sit down later and read them together, okay?”
“Of course, dear,” her mother replied, her voice tired and strained. Peony quickly picked up her own letter and stuffed it into the pocket of her cardigan.
“Here. Tanner, can you give Brady his when he comes home? I think we all need to read them in private,” Jake stated, and handed Tanner two of the envelopes.
Jake had two in his hand—one looked older than the others—and Liz left her mother’s side and went to his, sliding her arm around his waist. He immediately tucked her into his side and bent over to kiss the top of her head.
“I’m going to take some time now to read this alone, if that’s okay?” he asked her quietly.
“Of course. If you need to talk, just come over, I’ll leave the light on and the door unlocked,” she replied, and he squeezed her in thanks.
Tanner tapped the letters against the counter and nodded. “Night check, Liz. Let’s go.”
Liz leaned into Jake a few moments more and kissed him. He held her close, the scent of him echoing into her, and she breathed in as he buried his head into her neck for a moment.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m good. If anything, this may answer some big questions for all of us, yeah?” he replied into her neck.
She leaned back a bit, and their eyes met. He smiled and smoothed some of her hair back behind her ear. “Don’t worry too much. I’m sure whatever is in here doesn’t change anything,” he rumbled, and kissed her gently.
Her heart skipped a beat as he let her go. They were alone in the kitchen. Tanner impatiently cleared his throat from the back mud porch, so she reluctantly headed that way as Jake picked up the crocheted blanket and tucked it under his arm.
“Come over if you need me, Jake, I mean it,” she said, and he stopped, eyes swiveling to her.
“You already know I do,” he said, his voice rough, and then walked out of the room.
She stood a moment more, the words echoing in her head, the implied meaning of them clear.
“I need you too,” she whispered, and moved to follow Tanner out the door.