Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Ora, are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

I finished marking off the jackets I’d been inventorying and glanced over at Clara, who was on the other side of the rental counter with Jackie beside her. It was the day before Thanksgiving, and honestly, it had snuck right up on me. I’d never been big on the holiday. Until I’d moved in with my aunt and uncle, I had never actually celebrated it.

“No, it’s okay,” I insisted for the second time since she’d brought up me accompanying them to Montrose to spend the night with her dad’s sister.

Honestly, if they had decided to stay in Pagosa, I would have gone over to their house, but I didn’t want to intrude on the whole family.

I wasn’t heartbroken at all over the idea of staying in the garage apartment all nice and toasty. I had hot cocoa, marshmallows, movies, snacks, a new puzzle, and a couple books. Maybe if one day I ended up with a family of my own, I’d go all out and ask my mom for forgiveness for celebrating a holiday she had raised me to boycott, but . . . I’d worry about that some other day.

Jackie leaned over the counter. “Are you going with Mr. Rhodes and Am to his aunt’s house?” she asked.

They were going to his aunt’s house? I had no idea. I had just seen them both last night when we’d had dinner together, and neither one of them had mentioned anything. Rhodes had just gotten back from Colorado Springs for good a week ago, and I’d spent every night except for two of them eating dinner at their house. Those two nights I hadn’t were because Rhodes had worked late. “No, I wasn’t invited,” I told her honestly. “But I’m good. I don’t even like turkey all that much anyway.”

Jackie frowned. “They didn’t invite you? Am said he did.”

I shook my head and then glanced down to make sure the rest of the inventory form was done. It was. This was my fourth time doing it, and I was glad it was done right.

“Aurora, you want to come over to my house for Thanksgiving?” Walter, a regular customer and friend, asked from across the shop where he was going through some fly-making materials that Clara had put on sale just that morning. “We always have plenty of food, and I have this nephew who could use a good woman in his life to straighten him out.”

“Your wife hasn’t straightened you out, and it’s been forty years,” I muttered, smiling at him slyly. This whole conversation was a perfect example of part of the reason why I’d been so happy lately. I had friends again.

“Listen here, child . . . my Betsy had no idea what she had in store for her. I’m a life project,” Walter shot back.

We all laughed.

Honestly, it wasn’t just Thanksgiving that had snuck up on me; October and most of November had too. Since the Hike from Hell that I’d overcome, time had blown by, especially the last three weeks.

Clara, her sister-in-law, Jackie, and I had gone camping once, even though it had been freezing. Amos tagged along with me to do random things, like going grocery shopping and playing Putt-Putt with Jackie one time, when his dad let him off the hook from being grounded. I’d gone snowboarding once more too, and I’d only busted my ass a few times. I hadn’t moved on from the bunny hill yet, but maybe next time I would.

Every day was just . . . good.

“You know I have almost zero experience driving in snow,” I reminded them.

“This isn’t really snow, Ora,” Jackie argued. “There’s only about an inch out there.”

That wasn’t the first time I’d heard that. But to me, who had only seen significant snow from the windows of a tour bus, a quarter of an inch was snow. Kaden avoided going on tour during the winter, after all. We had usually gone to Florida or California the minute the weather started to get cool. Some flurries had fallen in town over the last few weeks, but most of it had been focused in the mountains, leaving them capped and beautiful. “I know, I know. Either way, I’m putting people’s lives at risk just driving home, I feel like, but if I change my mind, I’ll give you a call for your address, deal?” I asked Walter right as the door opened.

“No, no, no, just come on over. I want you to meet—”

I glanced back toward the door to see a familiar figure in a thick dark jacket coming in, stomping his feet on the rug I shook out every hour if I had time.

And I smiled.

It was Rhodes.

Or as my heart recognized him as: one of the main reasons I’d been so happy over the last two months, even though I’d only seen him a total of seven times, including the two visits he’d squeezed in while he’d been working in Colorado Springs.

“—my nephew. Oh, how’s it going, Rhodes?” Walter asked as he caught sight of our new visitor.

Rhodes dipped his cute chin down, a little notch forming between his brows. “Well. How are you, Walt?” he greeted him.

How he knew people when he said about twenty words a day, depending on his mood, was beyond me.

“I’m doing just fine, apart from trying to convince Aurora here to come over to my house for Thanksgiving.”

My landlord’s hands went to his hips, and I was pretty sure his lips pressed together before he said, “Hmm.”

“Hi, Rhodes,” I called out.

Things were good between us. Since getting back, that something that I’d thought before had changed, had changed even more. It was like he’d gotten back and decided . . . something.

Some part of me knew that he wouldn’t have done everything he had for me and with me if he was indifferent, landlord or not. Friend or not. Finding people attractive was one thing. But liking other things about a person, their personalities, was something else entirely.

I wasn’t sure what exactly was going on; it felt different than friendship somehow, but I could see it in the way that he had accepted my hug that first day he’d gotten home and squeezed me back tightly. It was in the way he would touch my shoulders and my hand randomly. But mostly it was in the way that he talked to me. In the weight of that purple-gray gaze. I ate up every single word out of his mouth after dinner when we sat around the table, and he told me a lot of things.

Why he’d chosen the Navy—because he thought he loved the ocean. He didn’t anymore; he’d seen more of it than most people would in a lifetime.

That he’d had that Bronco since he was seventeen and had spent the last twenty-five years working on it.

That he’d lived in Italy, Washington, Hawaii, and all over the East Coast.

I found out his favorite vegetable was brussels sprouts, and that he hated sweet potatoes and eggplant.

He was generous and kind. He cleaned my windshield off in the mornings if there was ice on it. He’d become a district wildlife manager—his official title—because he had always loved animals and someone had to protect them.

And in that moment, this man who loved scary movies looked so, so tired.

So I wasn’t totally sure what to think about the scowl he made at the possibility of me going over to Walter’s house, especially if he’d heard the part about the older man’s nephew.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he replied before tipping his head to Walter and starting to come over.

You could have heard someone fart from all the way in the employee bathroom after that.

He’d called me sweetheart.

In front of all of three people.

It took me a second to swallow, this bright little rush going through my chest, and I had to fight to keep my smile normal instead of this massive one that more than likely would make me look like a lunatic. “Whatcha doing?” I asked, staying where I was until he stopped about a foot away, willing myself to act cool.

He looked exhausted. He’d been gone by the time I left that morning, just like most days. Gone before I was and not back until I was already toasty in bed. He worked endlessly and tirelessly, never complaining. It was one of the many things I liked about him.

“I came so I could follow you home before I have to get back out there,” he answered quietly, that serious look in his eyes.

Clara turned around and so did Jackie, like they were giving us privacy, but I knew they were just pretending and were really eavesdropping. We’d already gotten just about everything done that needed to be finished in preparation for having tomorrow off for the holiday. We had ten minutes left before closing time.

Since there were no customers around and Walter didn’t count because he was becoming my friend . . . I took a step forward and hugged him. His jacket was cool against my cheek and hands. That big chest rose and fell once, and then he hugged me back.

Look how far we’d come.

“It’s starting to come down outside,” he said against my hair.

He’d come to follow me home because it was snowing. If my heart could grow a size or two, it would have right then.

“That’s really nice of you, thank you,” I said, pulling back after a moment, not wanting to be a total clinger.

“Do you need to finish anything before you close up?”

I shook my head. “No, I finished inventory right before you walked in. Now we just have to wait until three.”

He nodded, casting a quick look toward Walter before glancing back at me. “You never texted me back.”

“You messaged me?” Rhodes hadn’t texted me at all while he’d been gone, but since getting back, he’d messaged me twice, and it had been both days he wasn’t going to get home until late. According to him, he didn’t like talking, and he wasn’t much for texting either. It was pretty adorable. I wondered if it was because his fingers were so big.

“Last night.”

“I didn’t get it.”

“It was late. I asked Am if you had given him an answer about Thanksgiving, and he said he forgot to ask you about it,” Rhodes explained.

I didn’t want to presume. “What about Thanksgiving?”

“You coming with us. He always spends it with Billy’s family, and his mom and dad got here this morning as a surprise.”

My eyes widened. “His mom’s here?”

“And Billy. They picked him up on the way home from the airport. He’s spending the week with them until they fly back,” Rhodes explained, watching me carefully. “Am wants you to come over and meet them.”

“He does?” I asked quietly.

One side of his mouth tipped up. “Yeah, he does. I do too. Billy said I can’t come over if you aren’t with me. They’ve heard too much about you.”

“From Am?”

He gave me one of his rare, small smiles. “And me.”

My knees went like jelly, and it took everything in me to stay upright. It was a miracle in itself that I managed to even smile back at him—so big it made my cheeks hurt.

“Do you . . . want me to?” I asked. “I was just planning on staying in the studio and hanging out.”

Those purple-gray eyes bounced around my face. “We were wondering since you didn’t say anything about going back to Florida or seeing your friends,” Rhodes replied, sounding cryptic and not answering my question about whether he wanted me to come over or not.

“Yeah, I don’t really care about Thanksgiving all that much. My mom never made a big deal about it. She used to say that the Pilgrims were a bunch of colonizing pieces of shit and we shouldn’t celebrate the start of a people’s genocide.” I paused. “Pretty sure those were her exact words.”

Rhodes blinked. “That makes sense, but . . . you still get the time off anyway, and why can’t you just make the holiday about being thankful for the blessings that you have? The people that you have?”

I smiled. “That sounds pretty nice.”

“You’ll come then?”

“If you want me to.”

His mouth twisted into that not-officially-a-smile smile, and his voice was gruff. “Get ready to leave by noon.”

“You’re using your bossy voice again.”

He sighed and looked at the ceiling, his tone lightening. “Please come over for Thanksgiving?”

I brightened up. “Are you positive?”

That got him to dip his face a little, his breath touching my lips, his eyebrows up. My heart swelled within my chest. “Even if it didn’t make you smile like that, I’m positive.”

I didn’t want to think that I was nervous, but . . . I was nervous the next day.

Just a little bit.

I’d stuck my hands between my thighs to keep from rubbing them against the leggings I’d pulled on under my dress to wipe off the sweat that kept accumulating on them.

“Why are you squirming so much?” Rhodes asked from his spot behind the steering wheel as he navigated us down the highway, closer and closer to Amos’s aunt’s house. She lived two hours away. I wasn’t proud to admit that we’d had to stop for me to pee twice.

“I’m nervous,” I admitted. I’d spent way too long doing my makeup earlier, putting on bronzer and brow gel for the first time in months. I’d even ironed my dress. Rhodes had smiled at me when I’d walked into his house and asked if I could use his iron, but he hadn’t made a comment as he stood by me while I did my dress . . . and then he redid it because he was better at ironing than I was.

A lot better.

And honestly, the image of him ironing my clothes was going to be burned into my brain for the rest of my life. Watching him . . . this weird little tingle had built up in my chest. I was going to pick that apart later. In private.

“What do you have to be nervous about?” he asked, like he thought I was nuts.

“I’m meeting Amos’s mom! Your best friend! I don’t know, I’m just nervous. What if they don’t like me?”

His nostrils flared a little, eyes still glued to the road. “How often do you meet people who don’t like you?”

“Not that often, but it happens.” I held my breath. “You didn’t like me that much when we first met.”

That got him to glance at me. “I thought we talked about this already? I didn’t like what Amos had done, and I took it out on you.” He cleared his throat. “And the other thing.” Oh, about me reminding him of his mom. We hadn’t brought her up anymore, and I had a feeling it would be a long time before we did again.

I glanced out the window. “That too, but you still didn’t want to like me.”

“Fine. I didn’t,” he agreed, glancing at me real quick with not a smile but just about the most fond expression I could ever have dreamed of on his features. “But I lost that battle.”

The tingling in my chest was back, and I braved a smile at him.

The fond expression was still there, trying its best to short circuit my brain and heart.

I wiped my hands again, and I gulped. “His mom is just so accomplished, and so is his other dad, and I’m just over here . . . not knowing what I want to do with my life at thirty-three.”

He slid me a look that was way too close to the rabid raccoon one. “What? You think they’re better than you because they’re doctors?”

I scoffed. “No!”

His mouth twitched just a little bit. “Sure sounds like it, angel.”

“No, I like working with Clara. I like working at the shop. But I keep thinking that I’m . . . I don’t know, that I should try to do something more? But I don’t want to, and I don’t even know what I would want to do. I know it’s not a competition, and I’m sure I’m overthinking things because my ex’s mom scarred me. And like I said, I really do like working there a lot more than I would have ever imagined. I can actually help most people out now without having to bother Clara. Can you believe it?”

He nodded, his mouth twitching even more. “I can believe it.” Then he peeked at me. “Are you happy?” Rhodes asked seriously.

I didn’t have to think about it. “Happier than I’ve been . . . ever, honestly.”

The lines across his forehead were back. “You mean that?”

“Yeah. I don’t remember the last time I got mad over anything that wasn’t a customer being annoying, and even then, I forget about it five minutes later. I don’t remember the last time I felt . . . small. Or bad. Everyone is so nice. Some people ask for me now. That matters to me so much, you have no idea.”

He was silent before grunting. “Kind of pisses me off imagining you feeling small and bad.”

I reached over and squeezed his forearm.

His mouth did that twisty thing as he let go of the steering wheel with his free hand and covered mine. His palm was warm. “We’re here,” he claimed.

I held my breath as he pulled into a very full driveway. I’d kept a vague eye on the neighborhood when he’d turned in, and it seemed to be spaced out with at least five-acre lots for each home.

“I’m glad you’re good here,” Rhodes said quietly right after he’d parked.

My cheekbones started to tingle.

He undid his seat belt and angled his body to look at me from across the dark cab. He dropped his hands into his lap and leveled me with a stare that nearly took my breath away. “If it matters any, you make Am and me both happy. And you help Clara out a lot.” His throat bobbed. “We’re all grateful you’re in our lives.”

My heart squished, and my voice definitely came out funny. “Thanks, Rhodes. I’m grateful for you all too.”

Then he threw a verbal grenade. “You deserve to be happy.”

All I could do was smile at him.

I swear his expression went tender before he blew out a breath. “All right, let’s get in there before—there he is.” He gestured through the windshield.

Standing in the doorway of the adobe-style home was Amos, waving big, in a button-down shirt that surprised me more than anything. I waved back, and he started gesturing for us to come in. Beside me, Rhodes chuckled lightly.

We got out, smiling at each other one last time before he met me on my side, taking my elbow while his other hand held the multiple bottles of wine he’d picked up at some point yesterday.

“About time!” Am called out from where he’d kept on standing at the doorway, waiting. “Uncle Johnny is on his way too.”

“Hey, Am,” I greeted him as we went up the stairs. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving. Hi, Dad,” he said. “Come on, Ora, I want you to meet my mom and dad.” He paused and eyeballed me for a second. “You look . . .” He trailed off and shook his head.

“I look what?” I asked as I wiped my feet on the mat and then the rug before going inside the house. Rhodes had let go of my arm, but the second he was in, his hand landed at the small of my back.

“Nothing, come on, come on,” he said, but I didn’t miss the way his cheeks went red.

The house was huge, I could tell as we went through the foyer.

“I didn’t know they were coming, but Mom called when their flight landed, so I couldn’t tell you I was going to go with them, but—Mom!” he yelled suddenly as the foyer opened into a kitchen on the left-hand side. I could hear voices, but I only spotted three women in the kitchen. One, who was stirring something and oblivious to us, had hair so white it was nearly blue, another was an older woman who might be in her fifties, and the last was a woman who appeared to be a few years younger. She was the one who looked up at the “Mom.”

She smiled.

“Dad Rhodes is here, and this is Ora,” Am said, looking at me and patting my shoulder once.

It was basically a hug coming from him, and I would’ve cried if Amos’s mom hadn’t circled around the island and come straight toward us. She ignored Rhodes as she passed by him, and the second she was close enough, she thrust her hand out toward me.

But her eyes glittered.

I took out my own hand and grabbed hers.

Her smile was tight but genuine. And I knew I didn’t imagine the tears in her voice when she said, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Ora. I’ve heard everything about you.”

I know I heard tears in my voice when I replied, “I hope it was only the good stuff.”

“All good stuff,” she assured me before appearing to fight back a smile. “I even heard about the bat and the eagle.”

I couldn’t stop the snicker or the glance toward the sheepish-looking teenager still beside me. “Of course you did.”

A grin took over the woman’s face at the same time I laughed. She shook her head. “When he wants to, he has a big mouth like his dad.”

I must have made some kind of face at the idea of Rhodes having a big mouth because she smiled even wider.

“Billy. Most of the time though, he takes after Rhodes with his one-word answers,” Amos’s mom explained. “When they’re not in the mood, getting them to talk is like . . .”

“Getting wisdom teeth removed wide-awake?”

Rhodes grunted from where he was standing, and we both turned to look at him. Then Amos’s mom’s gaze and mine met again. Yeah, we both knew that was exactly it. She grinned at me, and I grinned right back.

“Remind me to give you my number or email before we leave, and I’ll give you the real scoop any time you want,” I offered with a wink, feeling a sense of ease come over me.

Rhodes had been right about Thanksgiving and Amos’s other parents. I didn’t have anything to worry about.