19. Emmie

Emmie

CHAPTER 19

Chip, my grandfather, instilled in me early on how important it is to give back. To have looked at him, the average person might not think to themselves, Now, there’s a wealthy guy. He didn’t get rich by flaunting his money.

Granted, he had custom-tailored suits, but he took care of them and still wore ones he bought twenty years prior—along with island-style floral shirts from time to time.

I didn’t make the wrong move, as Tad said. I invested the cash I got from the app and lived off it. But that’s not all. The balance in my bank account along with various investments and holdings, tells my grandfather’s story. And now it’s all mine.

So is Alex. I hope.

After laughing all the way back to Eaglewood Acres, to look at me right now, the average person might not think to themselves, Now, there’s a wealthy gal. I tried fitting in with the posh ladies in New York. It didn’t work.

Wearing the city girl clothes here didn’t translate well to winter on a ranch. So, instead of my sleek leather boots and wool coat, I’m wearing a combination of Alex’s gear and items various people left at his place—snow pants that are ten sizes too big with plenty of layers underneath and a belt to hold them on. The jacket with a furry hood makes me look like a Yeti that ate too many dark green marshmallows. Thankfully, the hat and boots fit.

Alex laughs as he pushes us off the top of the hill. Snug between his legs, I hold on tight as we whiz through the snow.

We take several runs and then I collapse in the snow at the bottom. “I don’t think I can make the climb back up there.”

Without a word, he scoops me off the ground and flings me over his back.

“You can’t carry me back up. You’ll wear yourself out.”

“Think of it like a ruck with me in full battle rattle.”

“The gear you carried weighs as much as a full-grown person?”

“I’ve carried fallen brothers on my back, fully kitted out. This is nothing. You’re as petite as an elf.” He bounces a little as if demonstrating that I’m as light as a feather.

I giggle. “I’m wearing ten pounds of cotton and fleece. You’re trudging through more than a foot of snow.”

“We’ve worn in a path.”

“Alex, you can’t carry me up the hill.”

“We’re already halfway up.”

“I can’t let you?—”

“If this is about you proving that you’re independent, let this be about me proving that I’m capable.”

He sets me down at the top of the hill. Wagging his finger between us, he says, “It works both ways.”

“Fine, but next one, I’m carrying you up.”

Alex laughs because we both know that would be more of a dragging him by his foot scenario. Then he grips my upper arms and gazes into my eyes.

His sparkle in the sun.

His lips part and I think we’re going to kiss.

Instead, he says, “Emmie, I am well aware that you are a strong, independent woman. I love the qualities that make you who you are. You don’t have to prove anything to me nor do you have to be all things at all times. There’s nothing wrong with two people complementing each other. I have my strengths and weaknesses. You have yours. But together, we’re strongest and those weaknesses, whatever they are, disappear.”

Drawing a deep breath, I know this truth down to my very core, but the defensive, protective part of me objects. “I’ve set myself up not to need anyone—not my parents, my grandfather, or my brothers. No one.”

“Pizza delivery guy?”

“No, I make my own.”

“Even the dough?”

“I have a great recipe.”

“You’re speaking my language. What about a dentist?”

“That’s different. I can’t exactly see inside my mouth.”

Eyebrow arched, he asks, “Airline pilot?”

“Don’t remind me. I should be in Coco Key right now.”

“And yet you’re here. Do you want to be?”

Our gazes meet. I want to push past my inner brat and tell Alex how much he means to me. “I do. I never want to leave.”

His eyes light up. “What if you don’t? Well, I mean keep your word and visit your brothers. But then come back.”

“Or you could come with me and get a break from all this cold and snow.” Then I shake my head because that doesn’t change the plan I made for myself when I left Florida. “But my life is in New York.”

“You’ve indicated that it’s mostly spent in front of the computer. What if you moved your laptop here and spent your life,” Alex widens his arms, indicating our surroundings, “here with me.”

“But—” I start.

However, the objections stall and turn stale like an old record stuck on repeat and worn into the grooves of my mind.

“When I was in the military, we had to rely on each other. Our lives depended on it. When I left, I had a choice. Remain tapped into that brotherhood or go solo. That last option seems lonely if you ask me. ”

The words sting. Not because Alex intends to hurt me, but because he’s right. Loneliness is something I try to dodge, and yet, it’s a familiar companion. What would be worse is if I accepted his companionship and then lost it.

Staring at the ground, I say, “If I let anyone get too close, they might disappear from my life.”

“Your brothers too?”

“They’re alive and well, but they’re not in my life as equals. More like I’m a ceramic doll. If anything bad happens I might shatter, so they keep me wrapped up safe. The result of that, I guess, is I don’t let anything bad happen. Or, most of the time, I don’t let anything happen at all.” I think back to all the hours I’ve spent alone, writing in my tower.

“You do remember that yesterday you took a daring leap out of a helicopter, right?”

I can’t suppress my smile. “True. But that’s because you were there.”

“My point exactly.”

“No, that’s my point. I wouldn’t have done it without you, proving that I’m not the strong, independent?—”

“I’m going to stop you right there. Strength isn’t only measured in physical ability. Like what you said to Squirrel Face about value and money. Being independent doesn’t mean you do everything yourself. For instance, I needed a co-writer because I wasn’t good with words. But I’m getting better. That’s all you. You’ve taught me so much.”

“Yeah but?—”

Alex shakes his head. “Yeah but, you look good in leggings. Your butt especially. Where are all your objections getting you, Emmie? What would happen if you took a risk, and I don’t mean the jumping out of a helicopter type of risk? That was something your brothers cautioned you against. I’m talking about going beyond the walls you constructed around yourself to create a shield against loss. But it works both ways—keeps people out and you in. Don’t you see? Without you, I never would have told my story. You gave me a voice. I want to show you that you hold the key to your loneliness and I’m right here, on the other side.”

“Actually, you can ask Dylann, you gave me your voice.” I glance up at Alex. “I fell in love with it. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His dimple slowly emerges. “Love isn’t a signal of weakness, Emmie. It’s the greatest, strongest thing there is.”

“But love lost makes a person feel weak.”

“But they’re still wrapped in that love, always, forever. I’m sorry no one ever told you that. Do you know how many times I almost died?”

“Actually, I do.”

Alex smirks. “Right. You wrote all about it. But with each close call, I felt Gram’s love wrapped around me like a blanket. It might sound cheesy, but it’s absolutely true. Her prayers, her love, all of it was with me. In me. Obviously, my relationship with my grandmother differs from ours, but love binds people in the best of ways. Anything else you’ve been told or led to believe is false. Remember, we’re only about the truth here, right?”

Everything he says washes over me like water, rinsing away the falsehoods and leaving me with a fresh, renewed perspective. But I won’t lie. At first, it felt like getting hit with a cold firehose before the warm water of truth soaked through my skin, reaching my bones.

Alex kisses my forehead then draws me close, before holding me at arm’s length. “The one thing I know that’s truer than anything else is that I love you too, Emmie.” Sadness spills over Alex’s features. “I’ve never felt this way and I’ve never said those words.”

My jaw lowers because much like how he didn’t get a merry Christmas as a kid or birthday celebrations, Alex’s only source of love was from his Gram. I know that my parents loved me, Chip, and my brothers. I am so loved and I love this man most of all.

Tears of joy brim in my eyes. “I love you, Alex.”

We both laugh with relief, comfort, and happiness then our lips press together in a kiss. I’m freezing out here, but everywhere his mouth touches warms me through with truth, love, and swoony feels that set those bah humbugs flying.

Taking his hand, I lower onto the sled. He pushes off and away we go, down the hill.

When we get to the bottom, instead of popping to my feet, I roll off the sled and onto the fluffy snow. I love Alex and the ranch too.

Overflowing with gratitude, I wave my arms and swish my legs from side to side.

“Are you making a snow angel?”

Gazing at the sky, I say, “It’s for your Gram. For my mom and dad too.”

“Thanks. She would’ve loved you.” Alex extends a hand to help me to my feet.

Hand in hand, we walk back to the house.

When we get inside, despite my many layers, my clothing is soggy. “I think I’m going to shower and find something warm and dry to wear.”

“We can throw your clothes in the washing machine. In the meantime, there’s a present under the tree for you.”

The bah humbugs wake up, reminded of the velvet box I spotted last night. “For me? But it’s not Christmas.”

Alex winks and says, “Go take a peek.”

A flat rectangular box sits under the tree. The label has my name with a heart around it.

He says, “Technically, it’s from the Wild Warriors team.”

I tear into the paper and pull out a dark blue sweatshirt with the Wild Warriors crossed hatchets with flames burning above in a campfire-style logo emblazoned across the front. Squishing it up to my face, I say, “I love it. Thank you.”

“Shaylin stashed it in my Jeep when we were at the church yesterday.”

“She’s a true Mrs. Claus. ”

“But will she be the future Mrs. Pearce?” Alex waggles his eyebrows.

“I take it they have a past.”

“It would seem that way.”

With my new sweatshirt in hand, I go upstairs and shower then put it on with a pair of leggings. When I get back downstairs, Alex has the fire blazing in the hearth.

Surrounded by a mixing bowl and an assortment of ingredients, he studies a piece of paper on the counter. Looking up, his gaze drops from the hoodie to my leggings and a half smile appears where there’d been a half frown.

“Seeing you in that Wild Warriors hoodie makes me even more wild about you.”

But I’m not entirely convinced it’s the hoodie alone. He seems to be a leggings guy.

I move next to Alex and peer over his shoulder, breathing in his woodsy scent along with cinnamon and spice.

Pointing to a recipe, he says, “This is well out of my range, but it’s Christmas Eve and we need cookies. Do you think this means to whip the butter and then add it to the sugar or mix them all together?”

I skim it and explain the process.

“See? This is why we complement each other,” he says.

“Because I’m a woman and belong in the kitchen?” My voice sounds shrill with accusation.

Lines crease his forehead. “No, because you said you make your own pizza dough. It’s not a stretch to imagine that you can also make cookie dough. Plus, you said gingerbread is your favorite kind.”

Feeling insecure, I put up my defenses. “I can do lots of things.”

“I’m well aware.” Alex pauses like he wants to say something then measures the sugar.

“I can open my own jars.”

“Never doubted it. ”

“If I had a car, I’d be able to change the oil and a tire.”

“That’s important.”

“I’m equipped to defend myself as necessary.” I subtly lock my fingers around his wrist as if preparing to take him down with a jiu-jitsu sweep.

Alex spins me around and then boosts me onto the counter.

Gaze seizing mine, he says, “Emmie, I don’t doubt you. Not even a little bit. Nothing I say or do is ever or will ever be intended to undermine you. I respect you. I honor you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words come easy because they’re true.

“And part of love is risk. Exploring new places. Going on adventures together.”

He’s right. I’m just being stubborn. But why?

To protect myself from getting hurt.

Being alone is familiar.

But it’s not easy.

I go back and forth in my mind while we prepare the cookie dough, roll it out, and then make gingerbread boys and girls.

While they’re baking, Alex leads me over to the tree. It twinkles and the fire crackles. It’s a picture-perfect moment with Christmas carols playing in the background.

“The way you do Christmas makes me want to avoid it less,” I say.

“Does that mean you’re excited about tomorrow?”

I tip my head side to side. “Do you ask because you know I’m on Santa’s good list and he’s going to leave me something special?”

“That, and because we’re going to be together, celebrating the birth of our Savior...and it’s your birthday.”

I swallow. “Oh, right.”

He does too. “There’s something else I’d like you to have. But it’s not a Christmas gift or birthday present.” He points to a pair of stockings on the mantle that I only now notice. There’s one with my name and his. “Go ahead and see what it is. ”

The bah humbugs quake. My limbs shake. I pull out the light blue velvet box.

Alex opens it and inside sits a sparkling diamond ring that reminds me of a snowflake.

He asks, “Emmie, will you be my wife and take me as your husband?”

The bah humbugs are more like butterflies fluttering around. They open their wings wide and take flight.

I tell myself they carry my answer with them because I’m left here, frozen.