Rekindling the Flame (Smoky Heights #1)

Chapter 34

THIRTY-FOUR

WYATT

It’s Rory. Well, it’s her mom.

Cotton fills my ears, making everything around me sound like it’s happening a hundred yards away. No sound is discernible, I see Weston’s lips moving, but nothing comes out. Though maybe that’s not new. The trees behind him spin, and that’s definitely not what they normally do. I have to grasp the fabric opening of the tent door for the closest thing I can get to purchase. Something to steady me as the whole world tilts right off its axis.

The sound comes rushing back at once, three times louder than it usually is. The rushing of the creek, the wind through the branches all around me, the voice of my brother.

“She passed on Friday night. Saturday morning, I guess, technically. Seizure when she was in the bathroom. She fell and hit her head on the tub, and … It was fast, Wyatt. A blessing if you ask me. But no one has been able to reach you, Mom asked me to help find you. Rory needs you, brother.”

He should’ve started with Rory needs you , I’d be halfway back to the house already.

As it is, I’m up and racing to get my shit together, literal and metaphorical, spinning in a circle in the campsite, trying to figure out where to start and how to get there now .

“Where is she?” I ask him.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens it up.

“WHERE?” I bellow.

“I’m checking. Jesus, man.”

Rory didn’t leave me. Rory left to go to her mom. Her mom who’s gone. It still isn’t sinking in, that feeling that I’m going to puke is coming back fast, but for a whole different reason than the last seven times it hit since I’ve been out here.

“Yeah, I found him,” Weston is saying into his phone. “He’s fine.” His amber eyes cut over to me again, assessing me. “Well, maybe not fine , but he’s uninjured. He could use a fucking shower. Probably a bourbon. Definitely a shave.” West nods his head at whatever Mom is telling him. “Yeah, I’ll tell him. He’ll be there in an hour or so.” He hangs up and faces me again. “Mom’s taking her to your place.”

I can make it there in thirty.

“Don’t do something stupid on the way and break your ankle, Wyatt. She needs you. Just get back to her safely, man.”

Is that gnats buzzing in my ear? I swear, when Weston talks, it doesn’t even register for me.

West places a hand on my shoulder, and it brings me back to the moment. “I’ll take care of your campsite. Just go.”

I give him a single nod, the closest thing I can spare to thanks, turn, and take off to get back to her.

The trek isn’t that long as the crow flies, but when you’re going up and down foothills next to the Smokies, winding in and out of the woods without any real established path to speak of, it takes a lot longer than I wish it did when I have her to get back to.

My mind races the entire time.

She had to go through it alone. I should’ve been there for her.

Does this mean she really was planning on staying? She didn’t try to leave town again?

Or the letter on the counter, did that change her mind? Did she remember all the reasons she left before, realize she really can’t do this again?

Or did losing her mom cut her last tie to Smoky Heights?

Between her mother and I, is this place too painful for her now?

By the time I get back to the cabin even my veins are vibrating, bouncing with unspent energy, the need to see her, hold her, try to help her be okay in whatever way I can. Whatever okay might even look like right now.

As I jog through the field at the back of the clearing, I see my mom coming toward me on the north side of the house, by the driveway. Not a chance in hell I’m going to divert my path to go see her before Rory, but I can see the disapproval in her gaze all the way from here. It’s pinging me, like she can channel that shit and send it long distance while she shakes her head at me, watching me go to where I should’ve been all along, before she sets off for her car now that I’m back. Giving us privacy. I know that after this, I’ll have amends to make with more than Rory, but she’s where it starts. She’s where everything starts for me.

I’m out of breath when I make it inside, sweating from the exertion of running this far in the near-freezing weather, lungs stinging, like shards of ice are peppering them with each inhale. Every breath hurts worst than the last, but it’s all worth it when I see her in her chair.

Face taut, rife with nerves, everything changes when she looks at me. Her face clears, eyes water, and all of that stress is replaced with relief. Sorrow, yes, but she’s not suffering alone anymore. I’m going to take as much of that burden as she’ll let me. If she’ll let me.

Rory pushes herself up from the chair as I run across the room to her, and she collapses in my arms as soon as I’m within reach. I don’t count the minutes she spends shaking, sobbing in my arms, I just hold her and let her get it out. Try to keep my own emotion at bay, because she needs me to be strong for her.

When the sobs turn to sniffles and then hiccups, she straightens up and I pull back to look at her.

“You were gone.” Her voice is so small. I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. I’m the one who left her on her own this time.

“I’m so sorry. I’m here.”

My hands clutch each side of her face, holding her tight as I kiss every inch of her face I can reach. Her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her lips.

“I heard what happened,” I say quietly, against her temple.

She nods, head still in my hands.

“I’m so sorry you were alone for this, Rory.”

She shakes her head this time, and I watch in wait, puzzled.

“I wasn’t alone. Lex was with me.”

Something clenches tight in my chest, and I shut my eyes against the swell of emotion.

“Thank God you have her,” I say, and press another kiss to the side of her head, where she’s tucked into my chin.

“She wasn’t alone, either. Duke was with her when it happened.”

I feel the tears hit my hand where it still frames her cheek, a drop of liquid pain against the one who should’ve been there.

“He said she was so happy right before it happened.” Her chest shakes with silent sobs, and I hold her tighter. At some point, she breathes a bit easier, stepping back and walking over to the couch, sitting down on it, so I follow her.

Rory plays with her hands, fiddling with her fingers, hidden in the sleeves of that black hoodie of mine she’s wearing. “In a way, it seems better almost. She won’t have to go through all the stages of her body shutting down. She got to go before the cancer took away her dignity.” Her palm comes up to wipe away another tear that spilled over. “But we were supposed to have five more months.”

“You were supposed to have years ,” I insist.

She nods, head falling down and taking a deep breath before bringing her watery eyes to mine again.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Her voice cracks as her heart does, all over her face. “Where do I go from here?”

I take one of her hands with both of mine and stroke my thumbs over the back of it.

“Take it one day at a time. An hour at a time, if you need to. Minute by fucking minute. I won’t hold you to anything, Rory. You do whatever is best for you, and take all the time you need to figure out what that looks like.”

I wouldn’t blame her if she needed away from the Heights after this. I just hope she knows she doesn’t have to leave me behind too. But I’m not putting that on her now. I’ll stay on her back burner another half my life if she needs me to. We both know there’s no one else for me. If there’s even a chance I’m what she wants, too, when all this settles, I’ll be here whenever she’s ready.

But her face, it’s all screwed up when she jerks her head back to look at me like I’m insane. I seem to be getting that look from everyone in my life today.

“What?” I ask her.

“Are you seriously telling me, after I just lost years with my mom, that you’re willing to lose years with me too?”

I stutter for a second but come up with a response. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, the road you have ahead of you, but I’ll be here for anything I can be, Rory.” Seems like the most honest answer I can give her without putting any expectations on her, without tying her down to anything she can’t commit to with what she’s only just begun going through. She’ll need time to process, to respond, and I can’t begin to fathom what her healing is going to look like.

Her eyes burn into mine and that hand of hers I’m holding squeezes mine. “Wyatt, I’ll never get the time back I wasted and lost with my mom. I can’t do that again.”

My mouth opens, then closes. Do I want to waste any of my time with her? No. But she made the most of her life. She went out and did the shit she was meant to do. I don’t want her to waste that, either. To wake up and regret any decisions she makes in the wake of a disaster.

“Rory, don’t rush into anything, okay? We have time.”

“But we’re wasting it, that’s my point, Wyatt.” She turns her body on the sofa so she’s facing me. “Time is the most precious thing we have. We don’t know how much of it we’re going to get. And I’m not doing this again, not with you, or with my sister, or anyone else.” She shakes her head side to side, resolutely.

“I thought you were gone.” It’s my turn for my voice to crack.

“I’m not leaving you again, Wyatt.” She sounds so sure, so certain, but all she had to do was tell me what was happening and I would’ve gone with her. Just like last time.

“I found the note. And I tried to call you,” is all I say. After days of thinking of nothing but that morning, it’s still bothering me that she didn’t wake me up, she didn’t think to tell me. “I would’ve gone with you. Twelve years ago, and the other morning. But you didn’t ask me to.”

She nods, another tear slipping down her cheek. “Oh God, I’m sorry. Fuck, that must’ve been so awful for you. I didn’t even think of that.”

I try not to react, give her time to talk to me, the thing I wished for so many years she’d done for me, but my stomach is trying to spill its meager contents all over the both of us here if she doesn’t hurry up.

“I woke up to pee.” She scrubs her face with both hands, then takes mine back in hers. “That fucking cider, I had to pee in the middle of the night.” I almost laugh because she always used to complain about that. It always made her get up overnight, but she never stopped drinking it anyway. “And I put the lube back in the nightstand on my way to the bathroom, and I found the note.” She shakes her head, eyes on the fireplace as she recalls it, and then her gaze is back on mine. “It shocked me. It was awful to see, it woke up some terrible feelings, and it kills me that you’ve had it all this time. I’m sure you’re more familiar with it than I am by now. But while I was reliving that, my phone rang. Duke called, and I panicked, Wyatt. I ran out the door. I should’ve woken you up, should’ve gotten you to come with me, but I was out of my mind. And I must’ve screwed up plugging my phone in for the two hours I did sleep, I don’t know. It died at the hospital, and I left my charger here, and by the time we figured it out, Duke tried to call you, and Lexi had Gracie and Ronnie trying to reach you, but nobody could.”

All I can do is nod, as the picture is painted for me.

She takes a big breath before she speaks again. “Look. I tried to get away from my problems before by running, but they stayed with me because the problem wasn’t the Heights. It wasn’t you, or my family. It was me , and the way I needed to grow. I still need to grow, Wyatt. But I see the horizon now. I see a life where we’re healthy with one another, where I’m not running from my issues, but I’m going to get there with you. Here with you, and my sister, and Duke.”

“You don’t want to go back to New York?” I can’t even get a breath in, the way she’s got my hopes up right now.

Rory shakes her head slowly, eyes never leaving mine. “New York was my escape. It was supposed to be my dream, and there’s a lot I love about it. But it doesn’t have the things that are most important to me. I want to see this case through. I want to help the people of this town get restitution. Live up to my mom’s legacy. I want to live the life you and I should’ve always had. Because this is where I belong. You’re where I belong. This cottage. Our kid in that backyard. I’m not losing another chance at the life I was meant to have with you.” She gives me a smile, a real fucking smile, and then she adds, “But maybe we can visit the city once in a while? Order in some of the things I’ll miss most?”

“Sounds like we need to make some amendments to our little arrangement,” I say. “Point one, if you order that Korean barbecue again, it gets shipped to the bar, not to our cabin. No memories of other men are allowed in our home, sorry.”

“What, like you don’t have memories of other women here?” She tosses it back to me like she already knows the answer.

I give her a look that says it all. This place has always screamed her, and only her. Of course I haven’t brought any other woman to it.

Rather than get mushy on me, she switches to another lane of conversation, one that tries to rile me up, her usual MO. This woman can make my heart beat faster for the rest of our lives, any way she chooses to do it, and it’ll be fine by me. But she’d better be ready to get back exactly what she gives.

“Are we calling this place a cabin? It’s really more of a cottage, I’d say.”

“Point two, if you’re gonna stay, I’m really gonna need you to start calling it a cabin. There’s a big difference in connotation between cottage and cabin, surely you’re aware of that, Ms. Who Versus Whom.”

She laughs and leans in close, where I meet her halfway. “Can we worry about the fine print later?” Rory asks against my lips.

“We have the rest of forever to negotiate workable terms,” I promise her, and seal it with a kiss.

She snickers when we break apart. “Good luck finding a better lawyer than me to represent your interests.”

“You are my interests, Rory Weiss. My sole interest, as a matter of fact. And I have just one more question for you, about our future. Point three, and it’s kind of the biggest one.”

I slide off the couch to one knee in front of her, still holding her hand. Her eyes go round and sparkly as she watches me.

“Will you,” I ask, looking her in those gorgeous warm brown eyes, “let me pick you out a decent car now?”

She laughs, shoving at my shoulder until I fall over on the ground, but I take her with me, wrapped in my arms so I cushion her short plummet, Rory landing on top of me with a small whoosh of breath. Her deep chestnut ponytail swings around one side of her face, tickling my beard where it hangs down.

“Only if it comes with a giant fucking ring.”

Doesn’t take me a half a second to answer her. “Deal.”

“You’re a sucker.” She cackles, head tilted back, then looks back down at me. “I would’ve settled for a small one that sparkles a lot.”

“You’re the sucker,” I tell her against her lips. “I would’ve settled for no car, no terms, just you.”