At Last

Chapter 8

The best things in life are chocolate.

Amy got up early. She had until four this afternoon to try to get up to Sierra Meadows and back. Try being the key word. She wasn’t at all sure she had any confidence in her ability to do so, but she had to try.

She had some hope to get to.

She was deciding whether or not to leave Riley a note or wake her up when the teen staggered out of the spare bedroom. She was wearing the same ratty jeans as yesterday but a different shirt, this one strategically torn in some sort of misguided teenager sense of fashion.

“Sleep okay?” Amy asked her.

“Yeah.” Riley looked out the kitchen window. “The cop’s gone.”

Yes, Matt was gone. She’d heard him leave before the crack of dawn. She’d been lying in her bed awake, hot, aching, remembering what his hands had felt like on her when she’d heard his truck start up and drive away. “And he’s not a cop. He’s a forest ranger.”

“Same thing.”

Pretty much, Amy agreed. And she recognized some of the authority issues in Riley’s voice well enough since she’d always had her own to contend with. “Listen, I’m going up to Sierra Meadows. Feel free to stay and catch up on some sleep. There’s food, hot water… TV.”

Riley looked around, her wariness showing. “I don’t know.”

“No one will bother you here. Is that what you’re worried about? Because if someone’s bothering you, maybe I can help-”

“No,” Riley said quickly. Too quickly. “I don’t need help. I’m fine.”

Amy’s heart squeezed because she’d been there, right there where Riley was, terrified and alone with no one to turn to. Well, actually that wasn’t quite correct. She’d had people to turn to, but she’d screwed that up, so when she’d needed help, no one had believed her.

“You’re safe here,” Amy said.

Riley nodded, and Amy felt relieved. Maybe she’d stay and be safe for the day, at least. “Is there someone I can call for you, to let them know where you are?”

“No.”

Well, that had been a long shot.

“I left out some spare clothes if you’re interested,” Amy said. “There’s some food in the fridge, but not much. If you walk down to the diner later, I’ll make you something to eat, whatever you want.”

“Why?”

Riley wasn’t asking about the food, and Amy knew it. What she didn’t know was how to answer, so she went with to-the-bone honesty. “Because I know how it sucks to not know where your next meal’s going to come from. You don’t need to feel that, not today anyway.”

It took Amy two hours to get up to Sierra Meadows, made easier by the fact that now she knew where to go. Lungs screaming, huffing like a lunatic, she climbed to the same spot where only a few nights ago she’d teetered and then fallen, sliding down on her ass in the inky dark.

There was no fog now so she could see, and the view was breathtakingly gorgeous. The sun poked through the lush growth, dappling the trail. Far below, down in the meadow, the steam rose from the rocks as the sun hit the dew. Making her careful way down the steep incline to the meadow floor, she walked through shoulder-high grass and wildflowers to the wall of thirty-foot prehistoric rocks on the far side. The meadow was a lot longer than it appeared from above, and there was no path, so this took another half hour. Finally she stood before the towering rocks, feeling quite small and insignificant.

Heart pounding, she slowly walked the entire length of them. Names and dates had been carved into the lower stones by countless climbers before her. Not needing to read her grandma’s journal, Amy followed the right curve as far as she could and found the last huge “diamond” rock. There were rows of initials, and she painstakingly read each and every one, looking for the RB and SB that was Rose Barrett and Scott Barrett. It took her another thirty minutes to decide they weren’t there.

Frustrated, she sat in the wild grass and stared at the rock. To give herself some time to think, she pulled out her sketch pad and drew the rocks. She needed to start back soon but she was hesitant to leave without answers. She looked at the rocks again and let out a breath.

Then she reached for her phone and called the one person who could help her.

“Hello?”

Amy went still at the sound of her mom’s voice.

“Amy?”

Amy cleared her throat, but the emotions couldn’t be swallowed away. Guilt. Hurt. Regret. “How did you know?”

“You’re the only one who ever calls and says nothing. Though it’s been a few years.” Her mom paused. “I suppose you need something.”

Amy closed her eyes. “Yeah.”

Now her mother was quiet.

“I’m in Lucky Harbor,” Amy said. “In Washington State.”

More silence.

“Following grandma’s journal.”

This got a reaction, a soft gasp. “Whatever for?” her mom asked.

For hope and peace, Amy nearly said. To find myself… But that was all far too revealing, and her mother wouldn’t believe it anyway. “Her journal says they left their initials on the mountain, but there’s no RB and SB for Rose and Scott Barrett anywhere that I can see.”

Nothing.

“Mom?”

There was a sigh. “It was all a very long time ago, Amy.”

“You know something.”

“Yes.”

Amy wasn’t breathing. “Mom, please tell me.”

“You’re looking for the wrong initials. You should be looking for RS and JS. JS is for Jonathon Stone.” Her mom paused. “Your grandma’s first husband.”

Amy felt her heart stutter. “What?”

“Rose ran away when she was seventeen, you knew that. She eloped.”

She hadn’t known that. “With Jonathon Stone.”

“Yes. Their families didn’t approve. Not that Mom ever cared about what people thought. You’re a lot like her in that regard…” Amy’s mother sighed again, and when she spoke this time, there was heavy irony in her voice. “The women in our family don’t tend to listen to reason.”

Amy ran back to the rock and searched again. It didn’t take but a minute to find it, the small RS and JS together. She pressed a hand to the ache in her chest. “No,” she agreed softly. “We don’t tend to listen to reason.”

There was another awkward pause, and Amy had this ridiculous wish that her mom might ask how she was. She didn’t. Too much water under the bridge. But she hoped there was enough of a tie left to at least get the answers she wanted. Needed. “What happened to Jonathon?”

“It’s a sad story,” her mom said. “Jonathon was sick,” her mom explained. “Lung cancer, and back then it was even more of a death sentence than it is now. Jonathon had a list of things he wanted to do while he could. Rock climb the Grand Canyon. Ski a glacier. See the Pacific Coast from a mountaintop…”

The Olympic Mountains. Where Amy currently sat. “Did he get to do those things in time?”

Her mom was quiet, not answering.

“Mom?”

“You haven’t called me in two years. Two years, Amy.”

She sighed. “Yeah.”

“It’d have been nice to know you’re alive.”

The last time Amy had called, her mother had been having marital problems with husband number five-shock-and she’d wanted to play the place-the-blame game. Amy hadn’t wanted to go there. So it’d been easier not to call. “What happened to Jonathon, Mom? And do you know where it was exactly that Grandma Rose ended her journey? Her journal is clear on the first two legs of their trek in the Olympic Mountains, but it’s vague on the last stop.” Where Rose had found heart… “Do you-”

“I’m fine, you know. Thanks for asking.”

Amy grimaced. “Mom-”

“Is this your cell phone? This number you called me from?”

“Yes,” Amy said.

“You have enough minutes in your phone plan to make a few extra calls?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Call me again sometime, and you can ask me another question. I’ll answer a question with each call. How’s that sound?”

Amy blinked. “You want me to call you?”

“You always were a quick study.”

“But-”

Click.

Amy stared at the phone. This was almost too much information for her brain to process. Her Grandma Rose had made this journey when she’d been seventeen years old. Seventeen. And she’d been a newlywed, in love with someone who’d died young and tragically.

How had that brought her hope? Or peace? Or her own heart…?

Amy pulled out the journal. She’d read it a hundred times. She knew that there was no mention of Jonathon.

Just the elusive and misleading “we.”

It’s been a rough week. The roughest of the summer so far.

Well, that made sense now. Jonathon had been sick. Dying. Amy flipped to the next entry.

Lucky Harbor’s small and quirky, and the people are friendly. We’ve been here all week resting, but today was a good day so we went back up the mountain. To a place called Four Lakes this time. All around us the forest vibrated with life and energy, especially the water.

I never realized how much weight the water can remove from one’s shoulders. Swimming in the water was joy. Sheer joy.

I could hear the call of gulls, and caught the occasional bald eagle in our peripheral. The sheer, vast beauty was staggering.

Afterward, we lay beneath a two-hundred-foot-tall old spruce and stared up through the tangle of branches to the sky beyond. I’d always been a city girl through and through, but this… out here… it was magic. Healing.

I carved our initials on the tree trunk. It felt like a promise. I had my hope, but now I had something else, too, peace. Four Lakes had given me peace.

A little shocked to find her eyes stinging, her knees weak with emotion, Amy sank to the grass, emotion churning through her. As odd as it seemed, she’d found the teeniest, tiniest bit of hope for herself after all. Maybe her own peace was next…

“Phone’s for you!” Jan yelled to Amy across the diner. “You need to let people know that I’m not you’re damn answering service!”

Amy had gotten to work on time, and though she was still reeling from the afternoon and all she’d learned, she managed to set it aside for now. That was a particularly defined talent of hers. Setting things aside. Living in Denial City.

For now, she had to work; that’s what kept a roof over her head and food in her belly. She had no idea who’d possibly be calling her here at the diner, but she finished serving a customer his dinner and then picked up the phone in the kitchen. “Hello?”

Nothing but a dial tone. She turned to Jan. “Who was it?”

“Some guy.” Jan shrugged. “He wanted to talk to the waitress who’d been seen with the runaway teen.”

Amy went still. “And you didn’t think that was odd?”

Jan shrugged again. Not her problem.

Amy had a bad feeling about this, very bad. To save money, she’d never gotten a landline at her apartment. This meant she couldn’t check on Riley, which she felt a sudden real need to do. “Going on break,” she said.

Jan sputtered. “Oh, no. You just got here an hour ago.”

Amy grabbed her keys. “I’ll be back.”

“I said no.” Steam was coming out of Jan’s ears. “You’ve got a room full of hungry people.”

Amy understood, but there was a sinking feeling in her gut that Riley needed her more. “Sorry.” She headed out the back door as Jan let out a furious oath.

There was no Riley waiting at home.

And no note.

No nothing, though the clothes Amy had set out for Riley were gone. Unhappy, Amy left Riley a sticky note in case she came back, then returned to work, eyeing the door every time someone came in.

But Riley never showed.

At the end of Amy’s shift, Mallory and Grace arrived. Amy waved them to a booth, grabbed the plate of brownies she’d been saving as well as the charity jar from the counter, and joined them. She plopped down, put her feet up, head back, and sighed out a very long breath.

“Long day?” Mallory asked sympathetically.

Amy looked at Mallory. “You, I’m not talking to.”

Mallory winced, guilt all over her face, clearly knowing Amy was referring to the Matt-to-the-rescue episode.

Amy popped the lid off the money jar and pulled out a wad of cash, 100 percent of which would go directly to the teen center at the local health services clinic that Mallory ran. “Two hundred and fifty bucks. Even if I am mad at you.”

“Luckily you’re not the type to hold a grudge,” Mallory said sweetly, taking the money.

“I hope we’re going to talk about guys,” Grace said, picking out a brownie. “I’m in the middle of a man drought, and I need a thrill. I plan to live vicariously through you two.”

“Ask Mallory here to set you up,” Amy said dryly.

“Actually,” Mallory said, ignoring the jab, “there’re plenty of single guys around here. My brother’s newly single. Again.”

“Yes but he’s a serial dater,” Amy said. “Even I know to stay away from serial daters.”

“Even you?” Mallory asked.

“I don’t date.” But she did, apparently, lust after sexy forest rangers who shared their tents and last Dr. Pepper.

“Why?”

Amy shrugged. “Not my thing.”

“Again,” Mallory said. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess because I haven’t had much time for that sort of thing.”

“That sort of thing?” Mallory repeated. “Honey, every woman has enough time for love. It’s what makes the world go round.”

“No, that’s chocolate. And of course you think love makes the world go round. You’re getting lucky every night with Ty.”

Mallory grinned. “True.” Her smile faded. “Tell me the truth-how bad did I screw up by sending Matt to the forest?”

“Yes!” Grace whooped and pumped her fist. When Amy and Mallory stared at her, she winced. “Sorry. It’s just that we’re really going to dissect Amy’s life instead of mine.” Happy, she stuffed a brownie in her mouth.

Mallory was looking expectantly at Amy, who gave in with a sigh. “It’s not your fault,” she admitted, digging into her own very large brownie. “I’m the idiot who got lost on the mountain. Matt helped me out. And then, because of a stupid tree, we ended up camping out overnight.”

They both gasped, Mallory in delight, Grace in horror. “With no electricity?”

Mallory laughed. “They spent the night together and that’s what you want to know? About the lack of electricity?”

“Hey,” Grace said, “a woman’s morning routine is complicated enough with electricity.”

“We didn’t sleep together,” Amy said, then grimaced. “Well, at least not until I fell down a ravine trying to find a place to pee in private, sprained my wrist, cut my leg, bruised my ass and my ego, and had to be rescued again.” She waved her bandaged wrist for their viewing pleasure.

Mallory’s eyes were wide. “You fell down a ravine going to pee, and he rescued you? Were your pants still around your ankles? Because that’s not a good look for anyone.”

“No,” Amy said. “My pants were not around my ankles. But your concern is touching.” She kicked Mallory, who was snorting with laughter. “And how would that have been funny?”

“Oh, trust me, it would have been. Come on, this is the stuff that chick flicks are made of-the classic meet-cute, you know? And a story for your kids someday.”

“There will be no kids!”

Mallory licked a brownie crumb from her finger. “I’d suggest that good girl lesson number five should be to keep your pants on during a first date, but the truth is I can’t really talk in that regard since I slept with Ty on our first date.”

“Actually,” Amy said, “technically, you slept with Ty before your first date. And fine, if you must know my pants weren’t down when I fell but they might have come down shortly thereafter.”

Grace and Mallory gasped in delighted tandem.

“Get your heads out of the gutter,” Amy said. “I had a cut on my leg, and he had to doctor me up.”

“Of course,” Grace said dryly, and then leaned forward, brownie forgotten. “What kind of undies were you wearing, a thong or granny panties?”

“What does that matter?”

“Oh, it matters,” Mallory said.

“I can’t remember,” Amy lied.

From the next booth over, a face popped up. It was Lucille, local art gallery owner and all-around gossip extraordinaire. She exited her booth and stood in front of the Chocoholics, a smile on her face. She wore eye-popping lime green sweats today with Skechers tennis shoes that gave her four-foot-nine-inch frame an extra few inches. Her steel-gray bun gave her a few more. She shoved a twenty into Amy’s now empty charity jar while sliding her dentures around some. “What’s this I hear about panties and Ranger Hot Buns?”

Both Mallory and Grace pointed at Amy like the Two Stooges.

Good friends.

Amy pulled the entire plate of brownies toward herself. “Good girl lesson number six-don’t be traitors.” She looked at Lucille. “I had a little trouble out on the trail and got some assistance. End of story. Nothing more to report.”

“But he rescued you from the latrine,” Lucille pressed. “I don’t suppose you have a pic?”

“No!” She didn’t need a picture. Everything that had happened, from being rescued to the feeling of lying in Matt’s arms, was engrained in her brain.

“Well, jeez,” Lucille said. “No need to get your panties in a twist.” She paused. “But if you did get your panties in a twist, what kind of panties would they be? You know, for accuracy in reporting’s sake?”

Amy narrowed her eyes at her, and Lucille backed away. “Oops, look at the time-I’ve gotta skedaddle.”

When she was gone, Mallory eyed the brownie plate.

Amy tightened her grip on it. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Forget the brownies. What happened with Ranger Hot Buns?” Grace demanded to know.

“We shared his tent,” Amy said. “Nothing happened.” Well, nothing except for some pretty amazing kisses…

“Let me get this straight,” Grace said in disbelief. “You slept with Matt Bowers, the hottest guy in town, and nothing happened? Are you kidding me? That’s a crappy story.”

“Matt’s pretty hot,” Mallory agreed. “But I wouldn’t say he’s the hottest guy in town. Because Ty’s pretty damn hot. I mean think about them, side by side…”

There was a beat of silence as the three of them thought about the incredible hotness that was Ty and Matt, side by side. Amy let the image sink in and shivered, which she covered by stuffing another big bite of brownie into her mouth. There were certain things she knew for sure. When in doubt, eat chocolate. When stressed, eat chocolate. When in doubt and stressed, eat chocolate. Especially when that doubt and stress were related to a man and her feelings for said man.

“Did you at least dream about all the things you would do to him?” Grace asked. “Cuz that’s what I’d have done.”

Hell, yes, Amy had dreamed about all the things she’d like to do to Matt. Repeatedly. Not the point. “Yesterday he found a homeless teen up where we camped and brought her here to the diner. We fed her and then took her to my place so she could have a bed and a hot shower.”

“We?” Mallory asked. “You took Matt home with you as well?”

“He showed up on his own. I found him outside my house keeping watch.” She shook her head. “Not sure what that was about, to be honest.”

“I bet he wanted to make sure you were okay,” Mallory said.

Amy laughed, and Mallory and Grace exchanged a telling glance. “I’m always okay,” Amy said. “Probably he didn’t trust me not to screw it up.”

“Honey.” Mallory covered Amy’s hand with her own. “Why wouldn’t Matt trust you?”

Because no one ever had. But that was before, she reminded herself, before she’d worked so hard at growing up and separating herself from the past. She needed to remember that.

Mallory squeezed her hand. “Can I ask you something?”

“No, you can’t have another brownie. They’re all mine now.”

Mallory smiled but shook her head. “Why would you give Riley a chance and not Matt?”

“What are you talking about? Matt’s never wanted a chance with me.”

“Oh, please.” Mallory gave her a get-real look. “The guy comes into the diner only when you’re working. He sits at your table, and he watches you the same way that Ty watches me.”

“Yeah, and how’s that?” Amy asked.

“Like you’re lunch.”

Amy squirmed a little bit because deep down she knew it was true. She’d caught him at it. It never failed to evoke a multitude of emotions, not the least of which was an undeniable lust in return, but also something deeper and far more complicated than sheer desire.

And that’s what made it so uncomfortable. That’s what scared her.

“So I’ll ask you again,” Mallory said quietly. “Why not give him a shot?”

It was a question for which Amy didn’t have the answer.