36. Chapter Thirty-six

Chapter Thirty-six

Remington

Tonight, I’d settled into my bed, my woman sprawled over me, whispering her love to me before she drifted off to sleep. More content than I could ever remember being, I should’ve drifted off with her.

After finding that note on my truck and not much help from the cops aside from filing another report, we’d moved on and ended up having a great week. Falling and falling and falling more each day.

Now that she trusted I’d be here in the future if she leaned on me, Hannah had cracked open her world to me. My woman hated doing paperwork, and I didn’t mind it, so I took up that job. Taking part in Town Hoofcare, small as it was, only seemed right being the last Town standing.

It also meant Hannah had more free time, and I got to claim all those extra minutes.

And when she was out seeing clients, I sat in her office and started on my own work. I’d documented my travels extensively over the years, with the idea in the back of my mind to one day organize my thoughts and experiences into a book. It’d struck me that now was the time to do it. When I wasn’t so far removed from that life, I could still draw from those feelings and memories.

I didn’t know if anyone would be interested in what I had to say, but I’d cross that bridge later. For now, committing my words to the screen felt good and right.

Things were going so damn well, I should have been sleeping, wrapped around my woman, but I was staring at the shadows dancing on the ceiling above us.

Thinking.

“You terrify me.”

Since Hannah had uttered those words last week, I hadn’t been able to let them go. Not when I held her. Not when she told me she loved me. Not when I awoke to her nose in my armpit. Those words were always there, lurking in the back of my mind.

“I’ve watched you detach yourself. You shut off feelings you don’t want. For god’s sake, Rem, your father died after an incredibly long and painful illness, and you’ve barely said a word about him.”

There was nothing to say about Graham, was there? He was my dad, but he’d failed me a long time ago, making it easy to cut him out of my life for good. I regretted Hannah having to take care of him alone in the end, but did I wish I’d had a chance to talk to him one more time?

Should I have been wishing for it?

I prodded at my feelings. The ones I’d had for Graham had been sealed behind a dam years ago and there was no longer anything there.

Was I even supposed to mourn a man who’d all but abandoned me? He’d been struggling when my mother died, but damn, so had I, and I was just a kid. How could I grieve a man who’d done that?

“You terrify me.”

I turned my head toward my bedside table. Months ago, I’d stashed the letter Dell had given me. My father’s final words to me. I hadn’t considered reading it. Told myself what he’d had to say didn’t matter. And yet, I’d kept it.

I loved the woman sleeping beside me, and I would be damned if I didn’t give her my all. If she had even an inkling of fear I’d one day be able to walk away from her, I had to do everything I could to shut that down. Reading Graham’s letter might not have been the answer to that, but there was a chance it was.

I carefully moved Hannah off me and sat up, swinging my feet to the floor. Sliding open the drawer, I slipped the envelope out and clutched it with both hands. Just holding it made my pulse pick up and stomach knot.

“You terrify me.”

No way out but through.

Quiet as I could, I walked downstairs. Turning on the light next to the couch, I sat and stared at the envelope for another minute or two.

These were the last words my father would ever say to me. Once they were read, there’d be no more. And maybe, now that I was sitting here, finally ready to open this envelope, I was afraid I’d be let down by him once again.

I wouldn’t have been surprised. Disappointed, on the other hand? Yeah, I thought I would be.

I ripped the envelope open and shook a folded piece of paper out. Breath stuck in my throat, I opened it, wincing at the sight of my dad’s no-nonsense, block handwriting.

Never thought I’d see that again.

Holy hell . I rubbed my chest, but it didn’t help ease the ache carving into me.

Already hurting, I took a deep breath and read.

Remi-boy,

If you’re reading this, that means I’m gone. I hope like hell I got to say these things face to face and this is just a repeat for you. If you didn’t make it back in time, don’t let Hannah make you feel bad about it. I understand.

(If Hannah wants to lay a guilt trip on you, let her. She needs it. But don’t take it to heart. She’s the best girl I know, and somewhere along the way, she became the best friend I ever had. Maybe she can be that for you too. I’m taking that wish with me.)

Gasping for breath, I put the letter down to claw at my throat. Something had shifted inside me, compressing my lungs, making it almost impossible to breathe. What the hell was that?

Leaning over, head between my knees, I sucked in air, only getting a strawful at a time. Black spots danced in my vision, closing in on me, and the inside of my chest felt like gears and wheels were moving, clicking, grinding from disuse.

With a shaking hand, I picked the letter back up, reminding myself there was no way out of this but through. Had to read it, get it over with, move on.

This letter is for you, Rem, not me. No way to rid myself of my guilt for all the ways I failed you, so I want to leave you with things I learned to carry you through. For what it’s worth, I’ll go to my grave regretting the kind of father I was. I’m sorry, my boy. So damn sorry. That might not be worth anything to you, but it had to be said.

Now, on with it. Here’s what I have for you:

Stay with the people who stay with you. Give them your all. In the end, it’s those connections that matter more than anything else.

Never be afraid to show your feelings. Good, bad, sorrow, joy. There’s no shame in feeling what you feel. Let it out, or it’ll rot away inside you.

It’s never too late until it is. You regret something? Find a way to make it right.

Spend time in the sunshine every day, even when it’s easier to stay in the dark. But wear your sunscreen, boy. You aren’t gonna be young forever.

When you start your own family, love them through every one of your fears, tragedies, anger, disappointment. Love them no matter what.

That brings me to my final, most important point: see it through, Remi. Whatever you start, you see it through. Do not give up when it gets difficult. Don’t tell yourself walking away would be better for everyone. The easy way out isn’t the right way. No matter what, my boy, see it through.

I’ll leave this life knowing I failed as a father. After your mother died, I quit, but you know that. Getting lost in a bottle was easier than facing the job I had signed up for. And once I was lost, I was too ashamed to come back to you. I dug myself into a deep well of self-pity. Only thing that got me out was you packing up and leaving. Too little, way too late.

If I do one thing right by you, Rem, it’s teaching you from my failing. See it through. That’s all you have to do. You’ll get through darkness as long as you see it through.

I used to tell you the only way out was through, and that’s the truest thing I ever said to you. You see it through, Rem. The other side might just be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever experienced.

I didn’t deserve it, but I got some of that beauty my last few years in my friendship with Hannah. I’m leaving the two of you this house because I think you might be able to find that beauty in each other if only you spend time together. She’s gonna be mad at you, Rem, but you see it through, you’ll come out the other side to the best friend you ever had.

If that happens, I’ll rest easy, knowing you’re taking care of each other.

It’s taken me a few days to write this. My end is coming at me like a freight train. I hope I get to see you one more time, but if you don’t make it, I swear I understand. I want to tell you to your face how proud I am of you. Your mother’s smiling down from Heaven, Rem, I feel it. When I get up there to see her, she’s going to have some words for me, but I’m counting on her being the forgiving woman she always was and taking me into her arms after giving me the what for. Other than seeing you again, that’s what I’m longing for now.

When you read this, I’ll be gone. I’m dreaming of you hanging with Hannah, seeing each other through this wild and beautiful life while your mother and I watch from above. That’s what I’m dreaming of.

Love you to the end, boy.

Your dad,

Graham Town

Wheels turned, channels opened, and the dam holding everything back burst. A sob ripped apart my tightly controlled emotions, letting them rage through me at once. Anger, grief, anguish, fury, loss—they all came together in a ball, rolling through my body, flattening everything else in their wake.

“Remington.”

Her whisper came moments before her arms enveloped my shaking shoulders. Hannah, on her knees beside me, surrounding me in her embrace. I turned my head and buried my face in her neck. Not because I was ashamed of the rivers of tears I helplessly cried. I needed her scent, the feel of her skin and hair. Her weight on me to ground me when everything else was falling apart.

“He wrote me a letter.”

“I know he did.” Her arms tightened around me as her body shuddered from her own tears. “He so wanted to see you one more time.”

“Yeah.”

I’d known that. So why the hell was it hitting me so damn hard now? That letter should have meant nothing to me. Like I’d told myself Graham had meant nothing, but…I couldn’t say that was true.

“I’m so fucking mad at him, Hannah.”

“I know you are, baby.” She moved, straddling my legs so she could get to more of me. Her forehead on mine, she dragged her fingers through my hair and down my neck. “Feel it, Rem. I’m here for you. You can say anything to me.”

I let my head fall back so I could look at her through my tears. She gave me a sad, watery smile and used her thumbs to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

“He should’ve gotten better for me.”

She nodded. “He should have.”

“Why didn’t he? Why the hell wasn’t I enough of a reason for him to try?”

“I don’t know, baby.” Her voice was thick, filled with sorrow. For me, for Graham, for herself. “You were more than reason enough. He just couldn’t get himself there.”

“He should have tried harder to get in touch with me.”

Another nod. “You’re so very right.”

“I thought he stopped loving me. Thought maybe he never had.”

Her lips pressed together, and a sob racked her shoulders as she shook her head. “He loved you, Remington. He checked out on you. He screwed up in a way that can’t be made up for. But he always loved you.”

I took that in, felt the gears churning, clicking, moving. Tears I’d held inside for years rolled down my face in unending streams. Hannah would never lie to me, and she’d known my dad in a way I never had. If she said Graham had loved me, I’d take it as fact.

Knowing that didn’t heal me, though. His love for me had been drowned out by alcohol and neglect for too long for it to make a difference now.

“That’s not enough. Never was.”

“No,” she agreed. “But it’s still important you know it. You were loved, and if Graham was right and there is an afterlife, you’re still being loved by him. Even if he was wrong and this one life is all we get, things like love don’t die. It’s here in the grass, on the wind, in the bones of this house…”

“In you.”

“Yeah,” she croaked. “He thought we’d be friends.”

“He was right about that.” I blinked away the wetness coating my eyes, taking in the woman quietly crying in my arms. “I didn’t want to grieve for him. Thought I got that out of the way a long time ago.”

“You can’t make your feelings go away just because you don’t want them.”

“I’m learning that.” I touched my chest. Even though everything had changed, it felt the same somehow. “I should’ve been here. I’m so damn mad I got robbed of the chance to settle things with him. This letter…it’s not enough.”

“It’s not.” Her palms were warm on my cheeks, wiping my tears again and again as they flowed freely. “I’m so sorry, my love. I wish I had tried to find you earlier. I wish I could have given you that time. Oh, Remi, I’m sorry.”

“Christ, Hannah, baby.” I held her face in my hands the way she held mine, drawing my thumbs through her tears. “Don’t be sorry. I have you, don’t I? All the beauty and sweetness I never knew I needed in one wild, incredible person. I can’t regret what brought me to you. You’re the reason I read that letter, the reason I have a home, the reason I know I need to face what I feel so I can heal and be the man you deserve.”

“Okay,” she whispered, turning her head to kiss my palm. “I’m going to be here, seeing it through beside you. You hear me? We’re gonna see it through together.”

No way out but through.

In some strange, twisted way, walking downstairs to read this letter with my dad’s words in my head was like coming full circle. Returning to a place where I was firmly rooted, loved, at home. Times had changed, and everything looked different, but the roots were what mattered. Every tear we cried together seeped into them, strengthening my tether to this place and this woman.

“I love you, Hannah Kelly. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Never,” she promised. “’Cause I love you too, Remington Town.”

Two days later, Hannah took me for a drive. She wouldn’t tell me where we were going, just that she had a surprise for me.

I’d be willing to walk to the end of the earth with her, so going on a drive was no skin off my back. Especially since I didn’t have to have a hand on the wheel so I could put them both on her.

I was still raw from the letter, but riding with my woman, holding on to her leg while we sang along to the radio, was healing for me. It’d take time for me to get fully right, but I’d been denying my feelings for so long I was giving myself the grace I needed to do that.

Before I knew it, Hannah was pulling through the gates of a ranch, a little smirk on her lips.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“You’ll see.”

She parked, and when we got out, she took my hand in hers, pulling me toward the stable. A few horses were out grazing, a man in jeans, a cowboy hat and a plaid shirt watching over them.

“Hey, Allen,” Hannah called.

Turning, he tipped his hat to her. “Ms. Kelly. This your man?”

“Yep. Graham’s son, Remington.”

Allen strode over to us, his hand extended. “Nice to meet you. Knew your dad a long time ago. Got reacquainted with him when he helped Hannah out with my horses. My condolences.”

I shook his hand, thanking him, even though I was still confused why we were here.

Allen winked at Hannah. “Follow me. I’ve got him in the smaller pin. The old boy gets cantankerous around others these days.”

We trailed behind Allen. Hannah was practically vibrating. “What’s going on?”

“Just wait, Rem. You’ll see in a second,” she promised.

Rounding the barn, we came upon a pen, holding one lone horse. He was a sorrel with a white muzzle and more white around his eyes. An old boy, as Allen had said.

Allen clapped his hands. “Come here, boy.” The horse’s ears twitched, but he didn’t budge. Allen laughed. “He likes to pretend he can’t hear, but watch this. Come on, boy. I’ve got a treat for ya.”

The horse looked up, pinned Allen with his black eyes, and meandered over, nostrils flaring. I didn’t know why, couldn’t put my finger on it, but my stomach clenched as he drew near.

Allen fed the horse an oat ball from his palm and stroked his wispy mane. “Attaboy. You’re just an old man, aren’t ya? Earned your right to be cranky.”

I cleared the knot in my throat. “What’s his name?”

Hannah squeezed my hand, and Allen looked at me funny before shifting his gaze to her. “You didn’t tell him?”

“No. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Allen’s grin was slow, spreading over his whole face when he looked at me again. “Well, allow me to be the one to reintroduce you. This old man is Huckleberry Town.”

My heart stopped as I got closer, looking into the eyes of the deeply familiar horse. “Huck? My Huck? He’s got to be—”

“Twenty-nine years old,” Allen pronounced proudly. “Slowing down, but he’s got life in him yet.”

Huck turned to me, giving me the stare down of a lifetime. There wasn’t any way he remembered me, but when I stepped forward, my hand out to him, he pushed his muzzle against my palm and chuffed. I stroked his neck, the feel of his soft coat bringing to life memories of grooming him with my mother.

Hannah came up to stand beside me, her arm around my waist. “I’ve been trimming his hooves the last eight years, Rem. I always called him Huckleberry…but then remembered Allen calling him Huck and put two and two together. This is your guy.”

For the second time in as many days, tears pricked my eyes. “You took care of him?”

“I did.” She wiped a tear away. “I think he knows you, honey.”

“Yeah?” Huck lowered his head to my shoulder, leaning his cheek against mine. “Seems like he does.”

Allen let us stay for as long as we wanted, and I wanted to stay for a while, watching my old horse do nothing special but everything fantastical. Hannah remained right by my side, telling me little anecdotes about my boy over the years.

It didn’t make up for my dad getting rid of him, but knowing he’d had a long, healthy life certainly eased that old wound.

Just another way Hannah helped see me through.

I gave Huck one last pat and turned to my girl, touching my lips to hers.

“You’re good?” she asked.

“Better than good.” I took her hand in mine. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Let’s go home.”