Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

S he'd had the dream many times. It never changed, no matter how much she wanted it to.

A million stars hung in the night sky, shimmering like diamonds over Yellowstone. In the distance, a wolf howled, and she shivered as she stood on the perimeter of camp. Her pajamas were pink and white, with frills along the sleeves. Her feet were bare, her hair braided. A tent large enough for the Bridgestone family sat half in darkness, and tied to the trees just beyond it was a pure-white horse, with piercing eyes of blue and mist that fell from its muzzle as it nervously pawed the earth. Across from the horse stood a wolf, dark as the night that covered them all, with impressive canines and blood-red eyes.

Her brother Benton sat on a log, head hung as he stared at his feet, while Scarlett and Cal ran circles around the fire and sang songs. And there, tucked between shadow and light, was a crib, Ryland's chubby feet the only part of him visible.

Vivian took one step forward because something was wrong, but paused when a fiddle began to play a haunting melody full of minor notes. There were no words, just the sound of the instrument, a sad lament she wished would stop. She put her hands over her ears, but it didn't matter. The sad song penetrated all.

Then she heard it. Her mother's voice. Sweet. Strong. So velvety soft, so full of life, it felt like a warm embrace. She opened her eyes, searching for her mother.

But all she saw was a shooting star. A blazing ray of light that cut through the night sky. Then the trees began to shake. The wind picked up and howled. And all the while, the silent wolf watched.

As the leaves and pine needles began to fall.

As Benton's shoulders shook.

As the horse broke free of its rope and disappeared.

As her mother's voice became nothing but a whisper of memory.

As the night sky receded with all those beautiful shimmering diamonds, leaving nothing but utter darkness.

Vivian woke up with a cry and rolled out of bed, her body slick with sweat, her cheeks wet with tears. She grabbed for the glass of water on the bedside table and downed it, running her hands over her face.

God, it felt so real.

"Shit," she muttered and got to her feet, padding across the room to peer out the window. The clock on the dresser told her it was just after 5:00 a.m., and the shadows that rippled across the front yard weren't as dark as they'd been a few hours earlier. She eyed the shower, then looked at the mess of blankets on the bed. No way would sleep find her again, so she decided a hot shower might improve her state of mind.

It didn't, though she appeared downstairs an hour later, skin sparkling, her hair up in a messy bun, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a light-blue cashmere sweater. She'd knocked on Dallas's door, but there'd been no answer, and she found him chatting with Miss Callie over a cup of coffee, discussing the merits of real butter versus the fake crap.

"Did you know that New Zealand exports the most butter out of any other country in the entire world?" Miss Callie asked, just as Vivian stepped into the kitchen. She gave a small wave when they both turned to her.

"Good morning," she said, her voice scratchy.

"Well, hello," Miss Callie said, getting to her feet with a warm smile. "You grab yourself a fresh cup of coffee, and I'll leave you two alone." She gently squeezed Vivian's arm as she passed, then disappeared out the door.

"How'd you sleep?" Dallas asked. He leaned against the counter and watched her with soft blue eyes. He wore the usual, a black Henley and faded jeans, with his hair loose around his shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat when their eyes met, and she swallowed the nervous lump that appeared in her throat.

"I didn't."

Dallas grabbed a mug and, once filled, added cream and sugar. "Miss Callie is right. This should help." She accepted the mug, her fingers trailing over his as she sat at the island. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, and she was glad of it because she had to work to get her thoughts organized.

She had a lot to say.

"I took the time and did some thinking last night." She took another sip and looked up at Dallas. "About the past. About my family." She exhaled. "About us. And I think I got some things wrong."

Dallas settled onto the chair beside her, but stayed silent. His thigh touched hers, and she was hyper-aware of his warmth. His strength. Nervously, she licked her lips and took another swallow of coffee before she set down the mug. She couldn't finish it. She was too amped up.

Vivian angled her head and turned so she could see his face. It was important he knew what was in her heart.

"Last night, I said I had to figure out some things because I don't want to make the same mistakes I did all those years ago. That's still true. I can't go back to where I was. How I felt. How I reacted to all that noise in my life." She shrugged. "There was a lot of noise. But the thing is, I don't think I need to do this on my own." She attempted a smile. "I can. I'm strong enough. I know I am. But I don't want to be in this alone. Not anymore." She paused and tried to slow her heart. "I can't change the past, but I can learn from it. I'm not the same person, and neither are you. And I think we need to move past all that because we've always had this connection, and it won't diminish. Look how hard we tried to forget it. To squash it. This thing between us is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Most folks don't find what we have, no matter how hard they try. I stopped fighting it the moment you walked into that honky-tonk in Wyoming and thought you had to rescue me."

"I didn't," he replied, leaning closer.

"Didn't what?" She held her breath, her eyes drawn to his sensual mouth.

"Think you needed rescuing. I was there for the show because I knew that guy was on borrowed time."

"He was irritating me."

"He was." Dallas's mouth was now a whisper away from hers.

"Dallas, I?—"

The rest of her thoughts were swallowed because suddenly, his mouth covered hers, and his hands were buried in her hair. He kissed her deeply, his lips sensual, his tongue seeking. With a groan, he pulled her onto his lap and continued his assault. Her head swam. Her heart broke wide open, and she knew she was forever lost.

The hunger between them would never go away, but she knew it was up to both of them to tend to it. To keep it satisfied. To not waste this gift. To not let all that noise and pain and those past mistakes ruin what could be their last chance at true happiness.

When they finally came up for air, Vivian closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. She listened to his heart as it began to slow, and smiled to herself, loving the fact that Dallas was just as affected as she.

She thought back to only a few weeks earlier and giggled.

"What's so funny?" he murmured, dragging his hand through his hair.

"The thought that we could do something casual with no strings. What were we thinking?"

"I guess we weren't."

Her smile faded, and she quieted as she looked up at him. His eyes were soft, his expression serious.

"We haven't really talked about yesterday," he said after a few moments. "About our daughter."

Our daughter.

"It's a lot to unpack." She searched his face and moved a bit to create some space. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "So sorry."

"No," he said, reaching for her again. His hands slid up both sides of her face, and he held her still so that she couldn't look away. "We're not ever doing that. You don't owe anyone an apology." His eyes shimmered a bit, and his voice dropped. "What you did on your own. What you sacrificed. It was more than I could ever have done. You gave Summer a fighting chance, and she's incredible."

Vivian slowly nodded and leaned into his touch. "It still hurts."

"I know." He dropped another kiss and pulled her into a big, warm hug.

"We need to go home," she said slowly.

"We do."

"I need to see my father."

Dallas pulled back, and she saw the question in his eyes.

"You have to forgive him, Viv. You'll never shake the past until you do."

"I don't know if I can." She could barely get the words out, her throat was so damn tight.

She knew Dallas was right. But knowing and accepting and then doing was a hell of a lot harder than it seemed.

"I've spent so many years hating my father for his weakness. For his failure to be there for us when Mom died. His failure to be a parent. And for that last night, the things he said, I…" Her head dropped. She still felt so damn small.

"Manley did a lot of things wrong. I'm guessing he'd be straight and tell you the same thing. He lost someone just like you, but the difference between you and your father is that you're stronger. You've always been so damn strong. And now, you need to dig a little deeper. Find that little bit more that will let you see him. Let you talk to him." Dallas swept his mouth over hers. "Let you forgive him the same way you forgave me. The same way you forgave yourself."

"I want to," she answered truthfully. "I just don't know if I can."

Dallas held her for a few more moments and then slowly got to his feet, dragging her along with him. He kept her close, for which she was grateful. Never had she felt this fragile. This exposed. This confused.

Considering her past, that was saying something.

"Let's go home," Dallas said. "Whatever you do, I'm in your corner. You don't have to do this alone anymore."

Wordlessly, Vivian turned and left the kitchen, Dallas following. They didn't speak as they took the stairs. It didn't take long for her to pack up her things, and when she made it down to the foyer, she found Dallas chatting with Miss Callie.

The older woman turned to Vivian and gave her a big hug. "I feel as if we've turned a corner," she said with a wink.

"Life has a lot of corners," Vivian replied softly.

"Yes." Miss Callie nodded and stood back. "But corners just mean there's a new path to take." Her eyes twinkled. "And new paths are an adventure." She stood aside. "I hope to see you two again."

"You will," Vivian said as she walked outside. "And thank you for everything."

"I've arranged for my truck to be picked up. We'll take yours." Dallas still had the keys to her rental, so she slid into the passenger seat. "I've got us booked on a flight in three hours. We should make it if traffic is light."

"Okay," she replied.

His big hand covered hers, and that stupid lump was back in her throat. He'd never been the guy to hold hands, and that small gesture meant more than she could articulate. So she didn't bother. She sank back into the seat and closed her eyes.

There were still so many things unsaid. But still, she felt settled. She had hope. And now they were headed back to Montana. Back to where everything began. Back to her father.

A man she'd not spoken to since that night he'd crashed into her bedroom and spun her world on its axis. She had no idea what she was going to say to him, but she knew she had to try, because Dallas was right.

She just hoped she had enough strength of mind to do what it was she needed to do. Forgive the first man she'd ever loved so that she could be with the one who currently owned her heart.

Only then could she move past living half a life.

And maybe, finally, have a chance at happiness.