My anxieties have anxieties.
The next morning, River stood in front of her closet trying to figure out what to wear for this road trip when Holden knocked and came in looking like the cowboy he was in boots, jeans, and a cowboy hat, shoulders broad enough to carry any burden that came his way.
He smiled at her and moved to her side. “You about ready to go?”
“I would be—if any of my clothes fit.”
“So you’re really going to do this thing with Lanie?”
“Yes.” And if she was being honest, she was excited about it too. It was a chance to get Lanie back in her life. She missed her, like she imagined she’d miss a sister if she had one.
Holden nodded. “Nice.”
“That I’m going?”
“Your smile,” he said and gave her one of his own rare ones. “But yeah, also that you’re going.”
She gave him another smile in return. “You know what I like about you?”
“My charm and sexy eyes?”
She laughed and God, that felt good. “That you don’t try to tell me what to do.”
“Why would I ever do that?” he asked. “And also, full disclosure, my eyes aren’t even my best feature.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to studying her closet, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t wonder what his best feature might be. “None of my sweaters fit me anymore.”
“Here, take this.” He shrugged out of his sweatshirt, which was indeed big enough to fit her. He wrapped it around her shoulders and didn’t step back after, ensuring that his airspace intersected with hers.
She stilled, trying to decide what that odd sensation going through her was. Excitement or anxiety?
Both, she decided.
Holden caught a stray curl and tucked it behind her ear, his fingers lingering at her temple. And then he leaned in an inch. And then another. Going slow . . .
For her, she knew.
She kept her eyes open as he gave her the chance to pull away. But she didn’t pull away, and he brushed his lips across hers.
A test kiss.
One that deepened in the best way when she relaxed into him. He checked himself before it went too far, nuzzling her cheek, smiling against her when she made a sound of protest that he’d stopped. “Don’t want to rush you,” he whispered.
“A little rushing wouldn’t bother me.”
He pulled back slightly and studied her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You want me.”
“Well, I’m not dead, am I?” she asked. “But I refuse to tie anyone down.” She held her arms out and looked down at herself. “I’m a complete disaster, Holden.”
“Hey, if you want to tie me down, I’m game. But turnabout is fair play.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was no denying that quiver deep inside was all excitement now, no anxiety.
“And you’re not a disaster,” he said. “Not even close. You haven’t let the right people in, that’s all. But the right people are here, just waiting on you to decide.”
She stared up at him. He was unlike anyone she’d ever met, a little rough-and-tumble around the edges. Smart. Stoic. Real.
“Your hair’s smoking,” he said. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking you might be too good to be true.”
He did the oddest thing. He tipped his head back and laughed, and it was a beautiful sight. “I’m a lot of things,” he finally said, still smiling. “But too good to be true isn’t one of them.”
She shook her head. “So what happens now?”
He pulled a key from his pocket and slid it into hers. “That’s to my cottage. It’s an open-ended invitation.” He lifted her chin and kissed her again, soft and deep and hot enough to melt her bones. “Think about it,” he said.
She wanted to. Oh God, she wanted to. But deep down in her gut she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t do it to him, saddle him down with the likes of her and a baby that wasn’t his. Heart in her throat, she shook her head. “I can’t, Holden.”
He looked at her for a long moment, nodded, and then walked away. Without taking his key back.
“Your key,” she called after him.
But he rounded the corner and was gone.
FROM THE SHOTGUN position of Lanie’s car, River shifted for the hundredth time. “Ungh.”
Lanie glanced over with a look of complete exasperation. “Are you serious? Again? It’s only been ten miles since the last pit stop.”
“Hey,” River said, feeling defensive, and uncomfortable as hell. They’d been on the road for two hours and it was two hours too long. Granted, the drive was beautiful. They were going south on 101 toward Santa Barbara. Green rolling hills after green rolling hills, dotted with oak trees that reached north to the stunning clear blue sky. Having never traveled anywhere except to Wildstone, she wanted to soak it in and enjoy it, but she couldn’t. “You try surviving with two feet kicking your bladder like it’s a drum set. You know what we need? A TV. I’m going to miss Ellen today.”
“We’re almost there. Can you make it?”
“Define almost.”
Lanie sighed and found a gas station.
When they were on the road again, River needed something to take her mind off her inability to get comfortable. “So . . . you and Mark?”
Lanie didn’t react except to grip the wheel tighter.
“Closed subject?” River asked.
“Unclear subject,” Lanie corrected.
“What does that mean?”
Lanie sighed. “That other than enjoying each other and the fact that he makes me laugh, I don’t know what we’re doing. But I do know it’s a dead end.”
“My mom used to say that if you find someone who makes you laugh and your life flow easier, you should keep them because that’s all you’ll ever need.”
Lanie glanced over. “Maybe you should take that advice.”
“Are you kidding? Look at me.” River gestured to her belly. “Until I got this job, I was homeless. I’m about to pop. What would a guy want with the likes of me?”
“Holden doesn’t seem bothered by any of that.”
River turned to look out the window. “Maybe I’m just not brave enough.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
Twenty minutes later, Lanie pulled into a town house complex and parked in a driveway. They entered one of the town houses.
“This is your place?” River asked, looking around. It was small, neat, and utterly devoid of personal clutter.
“I leased it after Kyle . . .” Lanie showed her the bathroom with a straight face and no sarcastic comment, saying only “I’ll be in the garage when you’re ready.”
River met her out there five minutes later and stared in surprise at the boxes stacked against one wall. “What’s all this?”
“Stuff I didn’t want to unpack when I moved.”
“Why?”
Lanie shrugged. “Didn’t feel like seeing any of it.”
River nodded even though Lanie hadn’t looked at her. Then she asked a question she hadn’t thought to ask before now. “So how long were you with Kyle?”
Lanie was squatted low before one of the boxes, and oh how River admired that easy, nimble athleticism. She couldn’t remember how long it’d been since she’d seen her own feet, much less been able to crouch low and tie her shoes.
“Dated six months, married for five years,” Lanie finally said.
River sucked in a shocked breath. “Five years?”
“I know. Clearly, I was an idiot.”
“Well, you weren’t alone there,” River said.
Lanie gave a rough laugh. “Not exactly a consolation. And I was a bigger idiot than you.”
“No way.”
“Yes way,” Lanie said and hesitated. “I believed him when he said he didn’t want to have kids, when clearly what he meant was that he didn’t want to have kids with me.” She didn’t look up, just kept her head down, and River felt sucker-punched by Lanie’s pain and humiliation. She opened her mouth to express her sorrow for Lanie, but at the tight, closed look on Lanie’s face she didn’t speak after all. And really, what could she say?
Lanie gestured to a box. “This is it—this is the only box I have of Kyle’s; it came from his boss. I got rid of his clothes, and until I did that, I didn’t even realize how few of his personal effects I had. In hindsight, that should’ve been a glaring sign.” She shook her head. “I’ve not looked in here yet.”
River still had to try. She needed the money. But damn, she had to pee again and plus she was hungry. And on top of that, her lower back was killing her, her feet were swollen—or so she assumed by how tight her sandals felt—and the stretchy waistband on her capris was cutting into her. She wanted to lie down and close her eyes and not open them again until she won the lottery or labor was over, preferably both. “I’d like to look through it anyway.”
“Suit yourself.”
LANIE MANHANDLED THE box open, very aware of the fact that River stood above her holding her breath. From inside Lanie’s pocket her cell phone vibrated an incoming text. Probably Mark. He’d texted her during the drive, checking in on them. Ignoring him for the moment, she peered into the box.
“What’s in there?” River asked tightly.
“His cell phone.” Lanie pushed it to the side. “His wallet . . . empty of cash, of course.” She rifled through a file. “Work stuff.” She pulled out his work badge and a watch. And then a stack of five journals, each with a different name on the front. Stacy, Kendra, Brigit . . . Lanie flipped through them and stilled.
“What?” River asked.
“Nothing.” Heart pounding, she hurriedly tried to shove the journals back in the box, not wanting River to see.
“No, stop.” Somehow River managed to drop to her knees and she had a death grip on Lanie’s wrist. “What is it? Come on, Lanie, you’re scaring me— Ohmygod,” she gasped when she caught sight of the last two journals, one labeled Lanie, the other River. “He was keeping journals on each of us?” She gasped again. “Are there . . . pictures? Like nude photos?”
Lanie blinked. “You posed nude for him?”
River bit her lower lip, looking panicked. “Once,” she whispered. “It was his birthday—”
“Stop.” Lanie pressed her heels into her eyes. “I don’t want to know things that are going to implode my brain.”
River grimaced and closed her eyes. “I’m never falling for a man again. Do you think I could become a lesbian?”
“You can be anything you want, but to change teams, you’d have to give up Holden.”
“He’s not mine to give up.”
“Because his leave is about over and he has to go back? Or because you’re as screwed up as I am?”
River suddenly doubled over and Lanie reached for her. “What? What is it, the baby?”
“No. It’s just a cramp in my back.” She paused. “And maybe my heart. Dammit. His leave is up?”
“Yes. In a few days,” Lanie said. “You didn’t know?”
River closed her eyes as if pained. “I think he might’ve tried to tell me this morning, but I screwed up. I’ve wasted so much time and now he’s leaving to go back to hell. I’m so confused.”
“Welcome to the club.”
River blew out a sigh and stared at the journal with her name on it. “Can you peek and tell me how bad it is?”
Lanie cautiously opened the journal and froze.
“Oh God, it is nude pics.”
“No. No, it’s okay,” Lanie said and slid an arm around River because she was suddenly looking ill. “No, I mean really. It’s not like that,” she said.
“So what is it like?”
“Well . . .” She was having a hard time believing her own eyes. “He appears to have written about each of us, meticulously and . . . with love.”
River stared at her and then grabbed the journal, opening it up to a random page dated about a year ago.
I’ve never met anyone as sweet and loving and caring as River. She’d give a perfect stranger the shirt off her back. Life hasn’t been kind to her, but you wouldn’t know it because she treats everyone who crosses her path with sweet generosity.
Including me.
The day I met her, I’d just screwed up at work and in life, big time. I was tired, frustrated, and scared. She served me lunch. I’d been sick and had just gotten off the phone with my doctor. My heart condition worsened and I didn’t know what to do with that shit news other than keep it to myself. It would’ve destroyed the people in my life and I was weak, far too weak to be strong for them.
Selfish.
But River’s the opposite of selfish. She sees me as funny and smart and on top of my world, none of which is true. But God, I love seeing myself through her eyes . . .
River looked up. “I don’t understand. He was sick? Did you know?”
Lanie shook her head, stunned. “He never said a word.” She was flipping through her book too. “It looks like he only says nice things about us all. Maybe . . . maybe he really did love us in his own sick way, the two-timing, polygamist asshat.” She pulled something else from the box. A picture of a pretty young woman wearing an apron with a popular grocery store chain logo on it. Her little badge read: Carrie, store clerk and world optimist.
Lanie turned the photo over. On the back was Kyle’s familiar scrawl: My next wife!
River stared at it. “Can you kill a dead man?” She looked into the now empty box.
No ring.
Lanie squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I’d hoped it’d be here.”
Looking numb, River nodded and tried unsuccessfully to get to her feet. Lanie helped her. “You okay?”
“Yes,” River said. Clearly a big, fat lie.
Five minutes and yet another quick pee stop later, they walked silently out to the car. Lanie could tell River was hurt and angry but she had no idea how to make it better. When they were on the highway, Lanie’s place miles behind them, she tried in the only way she knew how. “I’m writing you a check.”
River turned from where she’d been staring out the window. “What?”
Lanie inhaled a deep breath. “I’m serious. I’m writing you a check. I’m writing all of you a check. We’re splitting the life insurance money.”
“Stop the car.”
Lanie glanced over. “What? Why?”
“Just stop the damn car!” River yelled.
Lanie jerked the car to the side of the road. “What’s wrong, are you sick—”
River wrenched the door open and stumbled out. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sick. And tired. I’m sick and tired of being a victim. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. And most of all, I’m sick and tired of pregnancy hormones that make me sick and tired and . . .”
“Crazy?” Lanie ventured, meaning only to tease her out of her mood.
“Yes!” River grabbed her ratty backpack and glared at Lanie with shimmering eyes. “You’re not writing me a check. I’m not some charity case.” She grimaced. “Okay, so maybe I am, but I don’t want to be!” She slammed the door and turned and started walking down the road.
Actually, it was more of a waddle, one hand holding the backpack, the other cradling her belly.
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Lanie drove forward to catch her, which took all of two seconds. An eight-and-a-half-months-pregnant woman moved at the pace of a sleepy snail. She rolled down the passenger window. “Get back in the car, River.”
“No. I’m taking the train back to Wildstone.”
“Are you kidding me? And what am I supposed to do?”
“Leave!”
“I can’t just leave you out here!”
“Sure, you can,” River said. “I’m absolving you from being responsible for me. You never asked for this headache and you certainly don’t want to be my friend now that you know who I am and what I did. And I get it. Believe me, I’d hate me too.”
“River—”
“I’m officially no longer your problem,” she said and kept walking. Slash waddling.
Lanie checked traffic—none—and inched her car forward. “Seriously, River. I’m not leaving you here. I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You just use the long, skinny pedal on the right. It’s called the gas.”
Lanie rolled her eyes, pulled the car over behind the stubborn pregnant chick, and parked. She started to get out of the car, but there was a very clear NO PARKING sign on the side of the road.
Terrific.
River left the road and walked along the edge of a parking lot toward a dive bar called Double Down Saloon. Lanie looked at the time. Four o’clock. The bar would be open. Dammit. She pulled in and parked just as River got to the door. Lanie turned off the engine and answered an incoming call from Mark.
“How’s it going?” his deep baritone asked, just the sound of him providing a sense of comfort that she told herself she didn’t need.
“Great,” she said. “Really great. Fantastic. Awesome.”
He paused. “I’m going to ask that again. How’s it going?”
How did he do that? Read her from a hundred miles away? “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said, eyes on River as the bar door shut behind her. “I’ve got to go.”
“Just tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” Crazy for doing this, but okay. “I’ll see you later,” she said.
“Promise?”
Her heart did a happy little wiggle that should’ve set alarm bells off in her brain, but apparently her brain was on overload. “Promise.” She disconnected and went in after River.
RIVER CROUCHED IN the bar bathroom and threw up everything she’d eaten that day. Which had been an unfortunate lot. Her throat burned, her eyes watered, her back hurt like a bitch, and . . . she was exhausted. So fucking exhausted . . .
“Here.” Someone came in behind her and pressed a wad of damp paper towels in her hand.
Lanie. Of course.
“Go away,” she moaned miserably. “Please. I know you want to.”
“Actually . . .” Lanie pulled River’s loose, sweat-dampened hair back from her face and fastened it with something. “I’d like to. But I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re . . .”
River arched a brow, daring her to say crazy.
Lanie wisely said nothing and helped her up.
Together they stood at the sink and stared at their reflection. Lanie’s hair was loose and a little wild. She’d clearly given River her own hair tie. River wasn’t pale as a ghost. She was positively green.
But there was something else, something River had never noticed before. They actually looked a bit alike. In fact, they could’ve been sisters. At this thought, her eyes filled again because she’d had many daydreams that they were sisters. That they were a real family.
But that wasn’t ever going to happen. She’d screwed that up, and even worse than that, she and the baby were an everyday reminder to Lanie of how badly Kyle had hurt her. Lanie had paid enough, and as for River’s own problems, well, they were just that—her own problems. It was time, past time, to finally, once and for all, learn to stand on her own two feet.
“Think you can make it back to the car?” Lanie asked. “Or do you need a few minutes?”
She needed more than a few minutes. She needed about a year to hole up and process all of this, but she didn’t have a year. Given the way her body felt, she had a day or two at most to prove to herself and everyone else she was a grown-up.
“River?”
God help her, but she was going to lie to Lanie one more time. “I need a few minutes,” she said. “Alone.”
Lanie stared at her for a beat and then nodded. “I’ll be at the bar. You need a lemonade or a Coke, something with some sugar in it. I’ll get each of us a drink to go and wait for you.”
River nodded.
When Lanie left, River straightened and eyeballed herself in the mirror. “You’re doing the right thing,” she whispered.
And hoped it was true.
She sneaked out of the bathroom, but instead of going right down the hall to the bar, she went left and out the back door.
LANIE SAT AT the bar for ten minutes nursing her lemonade and watching the ice melt in River’s. Something was wrong. She could feel it and went back to the bathroom.
The empty bathroom.
“Dammit!”
Five minutes later she was at the train station, standing next to the tracks watching the Amtrak take off.
She’d run inside to find out where the train was going and if anyone had sold a ticket to a pregnant woman in the last ten minutes. The train was heading north to San Francisco with many stops along the route, Wildstone being one of them.
And yes, a pregnant woman had boarded.
Lanie had missed River by a minute, tops. Pissed, she went back to her car and followed the damn train.
It turned out the train was a lot slower than a car. Lanie followed it to make sure that River didn’t get off before Wildstone. The return trip took six hours instead of two and a half, and it was dark as sin and near midnight by the time Lanie got out of her car to watch the passengers unload at the Wildstone station.
There was only one.
Lanie blew out a relieved sigh and stepped forward.