Sable Peak (The Edens)

My stomach pitched as I marched up the stairs to the loft. Don’t puke. Don’t puke.

Hot, humiliating tears streamed down my face and no amount of blinking would make them stop. At least I hadn’t cried in front of Mateo. By some miracle, I’d managed to hold myself together until I’d slipped inside the barn.

The box. The lock was undone. The lid was opening.

The numbness from my sleepless night had worn off. Too many emotions were surging free. They tore up my throat, threatening to choke me to death.

Breathe.

I gulped the air as a sob hurdled from my throat. Oh, God. I was going to puke.

With my hands wrapped around my stomach, I jogged faster, bursting through the loft’s door and running straight to the toilet. There was nothing in my stomach to retch, but the tears felt infinite.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

Why was I so pathetic? How could I have been so stupid last night?

My head pounded and my muscles ached. Was this a hangover?

Never again. I was never drinking again.

I crawled from the toilet to the tub, twisting the knob until the water ran on the hottest setting. Then I stripped out of the clothes I’d borrowed from Lyla.

The spray was still cold when I clambered to my feet and stepped into the shower. I gritted my teeth through the sting. It wasn’t the first time I’d washed in ice-cold water. This was just another frigid stream.

I missed my dad. I could really use a hug today.

He’d give me one even though he’d be pissed I’d gotten drunk. I grabbed the shampoo and squirted it into my hair, scrubbing too hard and too fast. What the fuck had I been thinking last night?

I didn’t drink. I didn’t want to drink. I didn’t want to turn into her.

The memory of her slurring voice, of her swayed movements and gray, colorless face made my stomach lurch. The urge to vomit on my bare feet was so overpowering I had to clamp my mouth and eyes shut, breathing through the nausea until the water was so hot it nearly burned.

Never again. I was never drinking again.

I rinsed the shampoo away, my hair sluicing down my spine. Over the past year, I’d let it grow nearly to my waist. Maybe I should cut it all off. Go short.

Mateo’s blond from last night had long hair. Did he prefer long hair? Why was I even curious?

It was over. I’d made a fool of myself last night with my drunken rambling. Then I’d kissed him.

“Ugh.” My groan echoed off the cream stone walls.

Oh, God, that kiss. I’d lost my goddamn mind.

I buried my face in my hands, wishing I could hide from the world, Mateo included, from now until the end of time. I needed to apologize. I should have apologized already. I needed to figure out a way to make this not awkward because facing him this morning had been excruciating.

How was I ever going to survive a family dinner again? I couldn’t even make eye contact with Vance this morning.

He’d found me after I’d raced out of the bar. He’d caught me running down Main and ordered me to get in the car. But other than that, he hadn’t said much else. Granted, I’d been too busy crying in the passenger seat to chat about my fixation on his brother-in-law.

Vance hadn’t spoken a word to me this morning. He didn’t seem mad, at least not at me. When I’d asked for a ride to the ranch, Lyla had volunteered. The ride had been quiet. Uncomfortable. Mostly, I think she wasn’t sure what to say. How to fix this.

But the only person who could fix it was me. And right now, that felt impossible.

One drunken night, and I’d ruined everything.

Maybe I was like her, after all.

Where was Dad? I needed him today. I needed to look at him and remember that I was his daughter. That I had his hair. His face. His eyes.

Not hers.

I needed Dad.

The pace of my shower changed from misery to mechanics. I quickly scrubbed the scent of Willie’s from my body, then wrapped a towel around my waist and went to the closet. Dressed in my warmest base layer, fleece-lined pants and a thick sweater, I combed out my wet hair and twisted it into a knot at my nape. Then I donned a wool hat and headed out of the bedroom.

My keys were beside my textbooks and laptop on the kitchen counter. I’d planned to study for an upcoming test in my Personality Theory and Research class today. But I picked up my keys instead and swiped my coat from its hook. With my gloves in a pocket, my pack strapped to my shoulders, I stepped into my boots and jogged down the stairs.

The Honda’s windshield had a thin sheen of ice, so I started the engine and scraped it enough to drive before sliding inside.

I gripped the wheel tight and refused to look at Anne and Harrison’s house—at Mateo’s truck—as I drove down the lane.

The highway was deserted, too early for traffic on a Sunday. I wound along three county roads to a parking area a few miles outside of Quincy. The moment my car was parked, I walked away without a backward glance, disappearing into the trees.

There was no trail off that parking area, but I followed a familiar path through the woods.

This was the path I’d taken on my once-a-month supply run to Quincy. Dad would wait for me at our meeting spot, hidden about half a mile off the road. Ready to run if we had to make a break for it. His pack had always been loaded with everything essential, including our dwindling stack of cash.

The money he’d taken from the ATM when we’d left Idaho hadn’t lasted long enough. When we’d run out, he’d robbed a country gas station in Oregon.

I suppose that made me his accessory, didn’t it? I was a criminal by association.

We’d been camping out in the Cascades at the time, and one day, he’d told me he was going hunting. Alone. Up until that point, we’d always gone together.

Dad was smart about nutrition. He always made sure we had enough fat in our protein-rich diet. Part of the reason I’d wanted to take a nutrition course last year was to compare notes with what he’d taught me.

But as hard as he tried to provide, it wasn’t always easy. Having a can of beans came in handy when game was scarce and tummies were growling. So he’d give me a short list of necessities to snag whenever I snuck into a town.

The money from that night had dwindled too fast.

The day Dad had gone hunting in Oregon, he’d returned with pockets of cash. When I’d asked him how he got it, he’d confessed to robbing the gas station.

My father was a good man. I loved my dad. But he wasn’t perfect. And his crimes, most of them, had kept me alive.

Was he out of supplies? Had he robbed another gas station, this time for food instead of money? If I could just find him, I could bring him anything he needed. It would actually be easier now than ever before. He wouldn’t have to hunt or forage.

If I could just find him. He’d be okay if I could find him.

I trudged my way past tree trunks and through the underbrush toward our old rendezvous point. The snow hadn’t melted here yet and a trail of footprints followed me as I hiked.

I breathed in the air, letting it chase away the hangover. When I made it to our meeting spot, I pulled off my gloves and cupped my hands over my mouth. The piercing whistle that came from my lips ricocheted in every direction off evergreens and rocks.

Then the forest stole it, leaving nothing but silence. Not a sound came in reply.

I whistled again. And again. And again.

Each time, I waited to hear a reply.

Was he out here somewhere? Was he watching me to make sure it was safe?

“Dad,” I called, my voice hoarse. So I cleared my throat and shouted again. “Dad!”

The breeze rustled the branches above my head. Otherwise, nothing.

Of course there was nothing. How would he have known to be here? It was stupid to think I’d come out here and he’d just be waiting. It was dumb to think I’d find him today when I’d spent months searching without luck.

The shelter we’d built as our home was gone. He’d dismantled it completely, from the walls to the ceiling to our beds and the table he’d made as a nightstand.

There wasn’t a trace of where we’d lived.

It was just … gone.

He was gone.

I needed him today. And he was gone.

Because I’d left him alone.

“Dad!” I poured everything I had into my shout. I closed my eyes and balled my fists. And screamed. “Dad!”

Nothing.

“You said we’d see each other again.”

Silence.

He was out there. He had to be out there. He’d promised we’d see each other again, and my dad kept his promises. Always.

He was alive. He’s alive.

“Da-ad!” My voice broke as I yelled one last time, but there was no one to hear it crack.

There was no one to watch as I dropped to my knees and broke.

By the time I made it back to my car, most of the day had passed. Bone-deep exhaustion had stolen whatever sadness lingered in my heart. After hours of hiking and crying, the tears had run dry. A familiar numbness settled beneath my skin as I drove home.

My heart didn’t give its normal trill when I spotted Mateo’s truck still parked outside Anne and Harrison’s house. They must still be celebrating Allie.

Would I be invited to the party for her third birthday? Or was everything so messed up now that they’d cut me out of their life?

Should I find a new place to live? The idea of moving out of the loft made my insides twist.

It was never meant to be permanent. I’d always known that eventually, I’d have to leave. But I wasn’t ready, not yet. That loft was the first place to feel like home, a real home, since before.

I had to fix this.

Tomorrow, I’d face Anne and Harrison. I’d suffer the consequences of my loud, drunken mouth. I’d call Uncle Vance. I’d go to work at Eden Coffee.

Tomorrow.

Tonight, I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then curl up in a ball on the couch and watch TV.

Except the moment I parked and opened my car’s door, a rugged male voice thwarted my plans.

“Vera.” Mateo strode from the house, his hands in his coat pockets. He looked gorgeous in the faded light. He hadn’t shaved today. Mateo with a day of dark stubble was a favorite.

My heart trilled. Damn it.

Why did I have to love him? Why couldn’t I want anyone other than Mateo Eden? It would be so much easier that way.

I sighed as he stopped in front of me. “Please, Mateo. I don’t have it in me to—”

“You left. I don’t want you to leave your home because of what happened. No matter what, this is your place, Vera. You don’t have to leave.”

He was so good at saying the right thing. Even when he couldn’t have known I’d needed to hear it.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“On a hike.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw as he frowned, the same frown Uncle Vance gave me after my hikes. Except Mateo didn’t know why I was going out there.

He believed Dad was a murderer who’d kept me captive for years. That I’d escaped my father’s clutches. From his perspective, why would I ever search for my father?

“You okay?” Mateo’s forehead furrowed as he studied my face.

I shrugged and met his gaze.

He had the most amazing blue eyes. I was glad that Alaina had them too.

“Does Allie like her dragon?” For her birthday, I’d bought Allie a green plush rocking dragon. A musical tune played when you squeezed one of its ears.

He nodded. “She loves it. Been climbing on and off of it all day.”

“Good.” I’d brought it over after the party last night, but we’d been in a rush to head to Willie’s so I hadn’t seen her try it. If I asked, he’d probably let me see her tonight, but I didn’t have it in me to face his parents.

Tomorrow. Once this embarrassment had faded a bit.

I took a step backward, ready to retreat to the loft, but he stopped me with a question.

“Why’d you pick a dragon instead of a horse?”

“She’ll have real horses to ride her entire life. I wanted her to have something magical instead.” The magic of childhood faded too soon.

Mateo rubbed a hand over his jaw. When it fell from his face, his shoulders dropped too. “At the bar—”

“Can we not talk about it? Please?”

“You said I was a pilot. That I don’t fly anymore and you didn’t know why.”

I pulled my lower lip between my teeth, wishing there was a hole somewhere in the driveway I could crawl into and hide. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” He held up a hand. “Don’t apologize.”

“For embarrassing you?”

“I’m not embarrassed, Vera.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” I muttered.

He blew out a long breath and took a step closer. Almost too close. He stood there and stared down at me with a look on his face I couldn’t quite discern. He didn’t look angry or upset. He just looked … serious.

“What?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer. He just kept staring.

“I’m going to bed.” I took a step away, scurrying to safety.

“Vera,” he called.

Damn it. My frame sagged. My feet stopped. I’d waited a long time for Mateo to call to me. After months and months of pent-up desperation, I was powerless to resist.

“Yeah?”

“I love flying. I got my license while I was in college. Flew nearly the whole time I was there. I kept earning certificates until I became an instructor. I loved it so much that I almost dropped out of school just to be a pilot. But by that point, I’d spent a lot of Mom and Dad’s money on my education. Everyone else had their degrees. So I stuck with school, graduated and came home. Didn’t really have a passion for anything specific, so I helped out on the ranch and at the hotel to keep busy and make money. Figured I’d kill some time before I decided on my own career path.”

Why did it feel like no one knew this? Why was he telling me?

“I realized after a while that I needed to forge my own path,” he said. “Flying was the first thing that came to mind, so I started looking for jobs in Alaska. Got hired as a pilot to deliver supplies to remote areas of the state.”

“Did you like it?”

“Loved it. Enjoyed living in Alaska too.”

“Then why’d you leave?”

“I missed home.”

It sounded true. But only partially true. There was more to it, wasn’t there? Missing home, missing his family, wasn’t the whole reason he’d left a job he’d loved.

Was it Allie’s mother? Was she the reason he’d returned to Montana?

“I went up there looking for something and came home when I realized I hadn’t found it,” he said.

“What were you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “That’s the hell of it. I don’t even know what I was looking for. Everyone here has their passion. For Griffin, it’s the ranch. Knox has Knuckles. Talia has only ever wanted to be a doctor, and Lyla has Eden Coffee. Eloise pours her heart and soul into the hotel. I guess I was just waiting for something to spark. For a time, flying was that spark. But it’s different here. I don’t have a reason to fly. And after I came back, I sort of fell into my old life.”

A life where he supported everyone else in their dreams while forsaking his own.

“You don’t have to be in Alaska to fly,” I said. “Why did you stop?”

“I don’t want to work for a commercial airline. Always traveling. Sleeping in hotels instead of my own bed. Living in a city because it’s a hub. That’s not the lifestyle for me. But there’s not much demand for pilots in Quincy. Crop-dusting. Working for the forest service during fire season. It’s not impossible but … flying is a hobby. It’s easier that way.”

Because of Allie. Because if he worked on the ranch and at the hotel, he could be with his daughter every day. She could live surrounded by grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.

He’d been considering moving back to Alaska a couple of years ago, but then Allie had been born. Mateo was a pilot. But first and foremost, he was a father.

“You should go fly,” I said. “Even if it’s just a hobby.”

“Would you go with me?”

My jaw dropped. “W-what?”

“Go with me. Have you ever been in a small plane?”

“Um, no.”

“Then we’ll go tomorrow.” He turned and walked away. Just declared we were flying, then walked away.

“Wait. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Then Tuesday,” he called over his shoulder, still walking.

No. Definitely not Tuesday. Why was he asking? Was this a pity thing? A way to make amends? For us to get past this, I needed some distance from Mateo, not to be trapped beside him in an airplane.

“I don’t like flying.” Maybe I liked flying. I’d never flown before.

He spun in a slow circle. Still walking. “You’ll like this.”

“Mateo—”

“Tuesday. I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

“Mateo,” I called.

“Night, Vera.”

Seriously? I wanted to puke again.

Instead, I stood, watching as he disappeared inside Anne and Harrison’s house. Then I tilted my head to the stars. “Shit.”