I treaded the water of my new reality for about a week, spending part of it at the bar, ruminating, and the rest of it surrounded by the Horizon guys. They trusted me – to an extent – that I wouldn’t do anything stupid. But it was as if they’d scheduled someone to be “on call” with me at all times. I was invited to sleep over at Chuck and Haley’s, invited on small road trips with Ace and Katie, invited to read pages from the books Amy was writing while Sloan offered suggestions for edits that got increasingly lewd the more he drank, and even hosted Nadine and Brody overnight at my place when they partied a little extra hard over takeout dinner with me. I could’ve called them out on it, gotten angry with them, even, but it was kind of nice being around people. I always had plenty of time to think about things. My friends wouldn’t drag conversations out of me like pulling teeth. They let me sit quietly and stare off into the distance as long as they could keep me in sight. It was just nice to be in their physical presence, to know I could reach out and touch someone if I required reassurance.
What I really needed to do, though, was get in touch with Cheyenne.
She was the one who had suspected that I wasn’t who I thought I was to begin with. It was only fair that she learned the truth about everything through me. It was Brody, though, of all people, who had kept in contact with her.
“What do you mean, you’ve been texting Cheyenne?” I demanded before taking a step back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound so confrontational. I just…I haven’t been talking to her. I’ve been assuming she wanted space.”
“You were probably right to give her space,” Brody said with a shrug. “I’ve only been texting with her to consult on the kitchen and the recipes she had been considering.”
That was an odd revelation. “Really?”
“Yeah. She was really committed to the idea. Excited about it.”
“Was?”
“Still is.” Brody thought about what he was going to say next. “She just wasn’t sure of her place in the operation. Whether you’d still want her here.”
“If she wants to be here, I want her here,” I said. “I just didn’t think she would want to be here after she realized who I really was.”
“You’ve told her?”
“No.”
Brody stared at me. “That’s a conversation you should probably have with her, wouldn’t you say?”
“She knew, somehow.”
“What?”
“She realized something wasn’t quite right. She didn’t accuse me, but she could feel that I wasn’t the person she knew.”
“But you haven’t spoken with her since you got your memories back?”
“No.” Because I wasn’t sure that was a conversation I was ready to have. Because the conversation would probably culminate in some kind of decision, and I just didn’t know if I could handle the finality of not being with Cheyenne. I was pretty certain she wouldn’t want to be with me after I told her I really was James – confirming her worst fears.
“I think you might be relieved if you did,” Brody said cautiously.
“Relieved? I don’t know if that’s the word I would use.”
“She always asks how you’re doing.”
“And what do you say?”
He shrugged. “I tell her the truth.”
“Goddammit, Brody.”
“I tell her you’re hanging in there. Isn’t that the truth?”
A bit mollified, I nodded. “I’m trying.”
“Well, you should try to discuss what’s been going on with you,” he said. “She cares about you.”
“She told you that?”
“She didn’t have to.”
I was more than a little stunned that Cheyenne had maintained contact with someone in Rio Seco, even if it was Brody and they were just discussing kitchen plans. It was strangely endearing that she cared that much about the project, which I had more or less invented to try and get her to stay in town longer than she’d planned. The fact that she was still interested gave me a little hope that I might have a chance – at least she hadn’t cut all ties with everything when she’d gone back to Colorado.
I’d been telling Brody the truth; I hadn’t contacted Cheyenne at all since she’d left. That didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about it in extreme moments of weakness. But I had thought it was telling that she hadn’t contacted me – no calls or texts. She was giving me space to figure things out, and I had been giving her space for her to decide if she still wanted to be involved in the mess that was my existence, even if neither of us had explicitly told the other that’s what was going on.
I didn’t care to really explore that, or call to confirm that was what we were doing.
In fact, I realized that talking on the phone or texting through these issues just wasn’t going to work. I could’ve invited her back down to Rio Seco for a discussion, or even had Brody use the guise of a kitchen meeting to lure her here, but I was done with the subterfuge. Even if I hadn’t meant to lie to her, the truth hadn’t been there. If I wanted to go forward, to see what I could try to do to build something real with Cheyenne, I had to step up and show her I was willing to put forth the effort it would take to do so.
And that’s how I found myself back in Colorado, back in Jack’s hometown.
I remembered it better, now, with my memories back, even if it had changed from when we’d been younger. I drove past my uncle’s home and remembered the bedroom Jack and I had played in for hours, the way the sunlight would act as a clock marking the time as it moved along the walls and ceilings. I hadn’t spent much time here after my childhood. I remembered the sharp cut of resentment that Jack was succeeding in everything he set out to try and I seemed to be stuck in neutral, unable to go out for anything or even dream of achieving the slightest thing. If he was bright day, I was his shadow – not even night. It was that reason I distanced myself from him, even when I wished I could be him. He just always seemed unattainable.
I parked my motorcycle outside Cheyenne’s apartment and let it idle a moment so whoever was inside could register the sound of the engine. I hadn’t called or texted before I’d driven up, and I was suddenly afraid that had been a mistake. I should’ve given her some kind of warning beyond the sound of my bike outside of her house, but I’d been frightened she wouldn’t want to talk at all.
By showing up in person, I was forcing both of our hands. Maybe it had even felt like I was doing something daring, putting myself out there for her. I thought it would strike her as important, or impressive, maybe.
Or she’d think I was a stalker.
“What are you doing here?” I looked up and saw Cheyenne standing at the open door of her apartment, watching me. I’d been lost in thought, and mired in something akin to terror, and hadn’t noticed her come out.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We really need to talk, and I thought it would be best if it was in person.”
“Uh-oh.” She gave me a tight smile. “One of those talks, huh?”
“Something that couldn’t be done over the phone.” She had no idea what I had in store for her – unless she did, and she was just using humor to get herself through the situation. It was tough to blame her. She’d been through so much already. And I was gearing up to put her through even more.
“You could’ve called. I could’ve come down to Rio Seco instead of you coming up here.” She looked at the motorcycle. “I don’t trust those things in the snow.”
“It’s fine if you take it slow. Have good tires.”
“I never liked you riding them.”
“You never cared if I rode them. You never liked Jack riding them.”
I hated the way she sagged in the doorway, but I had to tell her. I couldn’t keep this up in front of my friends, and I certainly wasn’t about to lie to Cheyenne about it.
“You’d better come inside, I guess,” she said, stepping into the house and leaving the door open for me. I followed a bit reluctantly. There was no use putting it off anymore. She had to know. I had to tell her. She had collapsed on a couch, and I shut the door behind me before pulling a recliner in front of her and sitting in it.
“You were right.”
Cheyenne’s eyelashes fluttered, but the rest of her face was placid. “Right about what?”
If I could do this with the rest of the guys, I could do it with her. It still felt different, though. Easier and more difficult at the same time, in unique ways, than confessing to the guys, revealing the person I had been. Sure, duping them all had been innocent, on my part, but it was somehow as if my subconscious had simply been carrying out the will of James Ryder, who had the perfect plan imperfectly executed.
“I’m not…the person you think I am.”
Her nostrils flared – almost imperceptibly, but it was there. A signal that she’d just gasped at that revelation, even if her face had remained neutral.
“I didn’t want to be right about that,” she said.
“I didn’t want you to be right, either. But you were. Somehow, you knew.”
“It was the tattoo.”
“I wish it was as easy as fixing that,” I said. “We could go back to the same tattoo parlor, get the same artist, watch her freak out when she notices your name isn’t in the eagle’s talons. Make her put it back.”
“So you’ve been lying to everyone this whole time about who you were,” Cheyenne said. It wasn’t a question. It was a casual remark, made as easily as an observation about the weather.
“No. Well, in a way.”
“Where’s the distinction?”
“I was, in that was James’s…my plan to deceive everyone. To become Jack.”
“And so how was it not you lying to everyone?”
“Because I didn’t remember the plan.”
“You…what?”
“The plan was in motion at the time of Jack’s death. But when I got injured in the explosion, I really did suffer brain trauma. Amnesia. Nothing before the blast. I didn’t even know my own name.”
“The amnesia was real?”
“Yes. If you want to check on that, I’d be more than happy to introduce you to a few dozen doctors. Let you page through my medical records.”
“That’s all right. I believe you.”
“You do?” I peered at her, uncertain. “Because you don’t have to. You really don’t. You shouldn’t, maybe.”
“Why not?”
“Because I had wanted to assume my cousin’s identity. I wanted to be Jack.” I paused for a moment to let that sink in. “I wanted to be him because his life was so much better than mine. That’s why I joined the Army. Why I got the tattoo.”
“Why you were Jack.”
“No. That’s where the path diverges a little.” I sighed. “It’s hard to explain, and probably harder, still, to understand, but being in the Army changed me. Maybe wanting to be Jack made me start down the path of pretending to be a better person, but when I was over there, doing actual good work, I wanted to be better all by myself. I wanted to seize control of my own life, not Jack’s. The ambush, the explosion, it ruined everything.”
“It was what you planned, though, right?”
“It was. But not what I wanted. Not then. Not ever. The plan had been because I was desperately unhappy. Because Jack had everything I’d ever wanted. A good relationship with his father. Good prospects. A bright future. You, even.”
She looked away, and it killed me all over again.
“What I’m trying to tell you, Cheyenne, is that I’m sorry. I truly thought I was Jack. I never would’ve tried to be with you otherwise.”
“Except that had been your plan.”
“You weren’t in my plan,” I said. “I didn’t know that Jack was planning on coming back to you. He didn’t talk a lot – well, he talked a lot, but you weren’t the subject very often.”
“He didn’t love me?”
“Of course he loved you.” I softened. “Who wouldn’t love you? You’re wonderful. If you’d have been mine, the rest of the guys would’ve beaten the hell out of me for talking about you so much. They wouldn’t have been able to get me to shut up.”
I realized what I’d said just as quickly as she did, and I clammed up. Was that too much? It would’ve been something I might’ve said a couple of weeks ago. Was it something I would say now?
“I know it seems weird,” I said. “But I…love you. I still love you. That didn’t get kicked out of my brain when all of the old memories came pouring back in. There’s still room for you in my life… In this weird, sad, strange life of mine. If you want to be in it with me.”
“Here’s the thing,” Cheyenne said. “And I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“It doesn’t matter. Just say it. I’m listening.”
“I was in love with you. I fell in love with you.”
I gulped in a deep breath. “I understand. I know this is an impossible situation. You were in love with a person I was never going to be.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
“Cheyenne–”
“James, listen to me.” It was so strange, hearing my real name come out of her mouth. I’d heard it before, of course, back before the explosion. We’d known each other casually, and I’d had a terrible crush on her. But this was so different. An acknowledgement, even if the entire thing was so difficult it was hard to breathe. “I’m telling you that I loved Jack. I really did. But I loved you, too. When I thought you were Jack.”
“Because you thought I was Jack.”
“Yes and no. You were so different from how I remembered you. I realize that people change. It had been years since I’d seen you. I loved you before you were an Army Ranger, and I was determined to keep on loving you. But I fell in love with you, James. Don’t you see?”
I didn’t, but I couldn’t trust my voice. All I could do was shake my head.
“I fell in love with the person you were when we ran into each other at the bar there in Colorado,” she said. “Or if it wasn’t right there and then, it was the person I got to know in Rio Seco. Seeing you at ease with your friends, in the bar. What you were doing to help the town. You were different from the Jack I used to know, but that didn’t mean I loved you any less.”
“And now that you know I’m James?” I didn’t want to ask it, but it was a question that needed to be out there. I didn’t want either of us to fool ourselves. This was something that had to be addressed.
“Do you love me any less now that you have your memories back?” she countered.
“I don’t. I still love you. I just…love myself a lot less.”
Cheyenne heaved a sigh, then put her arms around me. “This is something we can work through. I’m saying if you want to work through it, this is something we can get past.”
“Just your run-of-the-mill case of mistaken identity,” I muttered, which made both of us laugh.
“See?” she countered, leaning back a little so she could look at me. “You can already laugh about it. We can. It’s going to be okay, James. I promise it will be.”
“You didn’t even used to like me,” I said, even if I didn’t take my arms from around her. I didn’t care that I was clinging. I just couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t slip away if I let her go.
“Because you were rude,” she said promptly, then laughed again. “Because I didn’t know you.”
“And now you know me?”
“I know some of you. And I’m willing to get to know you even better, if you still want to try.”
“I do want to try. Is that selfish?”
“Of course it’s not. People deserve to be happy.”
“Even people who’ve made mistakes?”
“Everyone makes mistakes. That doesn’t mean they’re not allowed to try and be happy.” She looked at me, meeting my gaze in the direct way she had, her gray eyes seemingly lit from within. “I love you.”
“You still do?”
“Of course I still do. The person I fell in love with in Rio Seco didn’t just go away, did he? That person is still in here, isn’t he?” She laid her hand on my chest, over my heart.
“He’s still here. I’m still here.”
“Then I still love you. And even if you might not be happy that your memories are back, that you’re not the person you thought you were, I’m here to tell you that you’re even better. I’m glad you know that, now. You are who you are, James. You’re the man I love.”
“I think that’s something I can hold onto,” I said. “I think that’s enough to keep me going forward.”
Cheyenne didn’t have anything to say to that. She just held me tighter.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before we found each other in Cheyenne’s bedroom, peeling the quilt back from the bed, taking each other’s clothes off with more care than we ever had before, as if we were scared one of us was fragile enough to break.
She stopped me when we were both naked, and looked at me.
“I see you now, James,” she said. “I’d had trouble before, sometimes, recognizing Jack. But it was because I was trying to see him through you, and you’re James.”
“I’m James,” I agreed, and the more I admitted it, the more normal it became. Less painful, even.
“You’re a good person.”
“I’m trying.”
“You don’t have to try at it. You just are. All the good things you do for Rio Seco, for your friends. You’re always trying to give people jobs. Amy said you’d been asking her to write copy for the menus, press releases. That you weren’t even asking as a friend, that you were volunteering to pay her way above what she would be used to.”
“I guessed I just wanted people to be happy. To be successful.” I shook my head. “I don’t know why I did it. I can’t guess at it, or wish there was some kind of connection there. I just did it because I wanted to.”
“Because you wanted to be a good person. Your subconscious wanted it.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do. And that’s why.”
“How can you be so sure of things? How can you trust me now that you know who I am?”
“Because when I didn’t know who you were, I still fell in love with you. And now that I can see that angst inside you clearing up, I know just how great you’re going to be.”
I kissed her, overcome with emotion, and it was a completely new experience. I wasn’t Jack feeling like I wasn’t at home in my own life, my own body. I was James. There had been a time when I hadn’t been happy with being James, either, but that time was in the past. I’d learned so much from my cousin, and from the Army, and now, from Cheyenne, that I knew I was finally on the right path. The path that had meandered and doubled back and sometimes vanished completely, but the right path, now.
The path that had Cheyenne beside me.
I explored her body as a new man, rediscovered it in the context of my own memories and experiences, and loved her even more. She was amazing, simply amazing, for opening her heart to me this entire time. Especially now, after she knew I wasn’t the man we both thought I’d been.
“Stop thinking,” she said, looking up at me, her legs wrapped around my waist, my length buried in her body to the hilt. “Just be here with me.”
“I’m here with you,” I promised her. “There isn’t a single place in this world I’d rather be.”
My body sang with pleasure as I thrust, and I leaned backward as she pushed at my bare chest, letting her take the reins, set the pace on top, riding me. God, she was beautiful. She was beautiful, and I was lucky to know her. Lucky that I had somehow found my way back to her after everything.
Lucky that some things were just meant to be, no matter what you had to go through to make it there.
When we both came, it was within heartbeats of each other.
“Cheyenne Knight, will you come back to Rio Seco with me and live out your days there by my side?” I asked her, still gasping, still seeing stars from that orgasm.
“James Ryder, nothing would make me happier.” She grinned at me, even if my next question made it falter a little.
“Even if I’m James Ryder?”
She leaned over and gave me such a passionate kiss that I felt my body start to stir all over again. “Especially because you’re James Ryder. I love you. Do you know that?”
I did now. “I love you, too.” I was more certain of that than I was of anything in the world.