30. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Indy — Now

I was 3,000 percent sure there was a skunk slinking through the grass not even fifteen feet from me. But I wouldn’t let that deter me.

This moment, this view . . . it wasn’t worth passing up.

I lay on the forest floor, pebbles and grass against my back as I stared at the sky. The night was clear and the moon was bright, scattered stars visible through the treetops. After dinner, I’d taken Genny on a walk, most of which she’d spent rolling on her back in the wildflowers. I’d picked stickers out of her fur for a good half hour before I’d taken her back to the camper. Instead of staying inside with her, I found myself returning to Genny’s patch, wondering if she’d been onto something.

Aware I’d need to go inside soon, I lay there quietly, earnestly soaking it up. When I first moved to New York, I’d leaned out my window one time to glance at the stars. But my view was obstructed, and the city lights overshadowed them, and I’d never looked again. When I’d lived in Ohio for college it had been better, but it wasn’t the same as Arizona.

Out here, with nothing in the way, I could see them clearly.

A lot was appearing more clearly than it had before.

It scared me. Scared me to sense the ground beneath me was shifting, not knowing if it was going to give in or not .

Despite the sweater I wore, the rocks beneath me were irritating my sunburn, and I was considering calling it quits just as I heard the sure sound of snapping wood behind me. “I brought you a blanket.”

I shifted onto my side to find Nolan a few feet away, a jean quilt in his hand. “Thank you.” There was nothing more to say, but I felt like I owed him more than that. After lathering me in aloe vera, he’d been quiet most of dinner, listening as I filled Jake in on the fundraiser. To no surprise, Jake donated and even gave me the number of a friend who might be willing to loan us his Ferris wheel for the event. “It’s not yours, right?” I asked, not wanting to make it dirty if it was. He was already sleeping in the bed of his truck.

He shook his head. “Found it tucked away in a cabinet in the camper. I even shook it out to make sure there weren’t spiders in it.”

I rolled to my knees and reached for the blanket. “Is Genny okay?”

“Yup. When I left, she was passed out beside Jake while he watched Yellowstone .” I nodded, deciding to spend a few more minutes outside. “You need me to bring you a jacket?” he asked, even though the air was fairly warm.

I shook my head, pushing past the fluttering butterflies in my gut. “You can stay . . . if you want.”

Nolan raised his brow, his lips twitching with a grin like the cocky son of a gun I knew he was. “You asking me to watch the stars with you, peaches?”

My stomach squirmed even more, and I wondered if he was thinking of not only all the times we’d done this as kids, but when he’d stuck stars on our ceiling. “I’m asking if you’ll stay out here and act as bear bait so I can keep an eye out for shooting stars.”

He let out a low laugh and grabbed two corners of the quilt and spread it out with me. Satisfied with our work, I lay on one end, assuming he’d take the other.

When he remained standing, I looked up. “Is something wrong?”

He glanced between me and the open space on the blanket. “You think I have cooties or something?”

I snorted. I’d never once thought I’d live to see the day when Nolan said cooties . “No.” I waved a hand beside me. “I was leaving you plenty of space. ”

“You’re barely taking up a quarter of the blanket. Half of your back is still on the ground.”

“So? I was lying on the ground before, and besides, you’re not exactly a small guy.”

“What kind of guy am I?”

I shrugged. “You’re big.”

“You think I’m big?”

“You’re not like massive or anything,” I said, fighting off a laugh. How the hell had we gotten here? “How tall are you? Six two? That’s not exactly small. And even with you not playing baseball and training nonstop, you’re in shape. Have you looked at your forearms?”

“You have?”

I rolled my eyes. If I looked up, I’d no doubt find Nolan preening. His dad had been right to call him a peacock. Yet I wasn’t complaining. “I have eyeballs.”

“You do . . .” His voice was low, amused. “Eyeballs that like to look at my forearms. And admire how big I am. Is there anything else you’ve noticed is so big about me—”

“Good hell.” I groaned and flung my arms over my eyes, hiding from his bellowing laugh. “You’re hot, Nolan. I know it. You know it. Everyone knows it. Get down here before I remember this is a bad idea.”

He chuckled, the blanket shifting beneath me as he lay down. Still hiding behind my arm, I willed my heart rate to relax. “You have stars on your arm or something?”

I laughed, the sound natural and full, a soothing balm to my nerves. I lowered my arm to my side and glanced at Nolan. He mirrored my position, half of his back hanging off the blanket—though his feet hung off too. I raised a brow and he winked. We were being ridiculous. “Figured I should leave you just as much space since I think you’re hot too.”

Smiling, I shook my head, turning my attention back to the sky. I held my breath, bracing for his next joke or teasing jab, but as more time passed, the quieter the night seemed to grow. Just when I thought it might stay that way, he asked, “Do you dance still? Besides with my brother, of course. ”

I snorted. Of course he hadn’t let that go. “I’d hardly call what Levi and I did dancing—but no. I stopped years ago.”

He made a humming noise deep in his throat. “That’s a shame.”

I bristled at the disappointment in his voice. Not at me, but for me. It wasn’t a big deal. Dancing hadn’t been a real talent of mine, not one that could lead me down a career path. It had been a hobby; I’d moved on. I glanced at Nolan, and maybe it was because his eyes were closed, but I found the nerve to ask, “Do you still play baseball?”

“I don’t.”

My throat squeezed. I hadn’t expected him to respond so quickly. But if the truth was simple, there was no sense in dragging it out. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped he still played occasionally, even if it was only playing catch. But maybe the past had tarnished it for him, made it not as enjoyable as it once was. “I’m sorry.”

He let out a heavy breath. “My choices are my own, Indy. It was my choice that led me here, not yours.”

I blinked hard, pushing through the burning in my eyes. I was grateful he didn’t blame me for his baseball career ending, but I’d always wish I’d done more. “Jake told me you stopped drinking.”

Out of the corner of my vision, I caught him smiling like I’d said something funny. “I told you I did.”

“Yes, but I thought you said that because of the game—not because it was true,” I reminded him, not bothering to point out he’d given me two lies and one truth then. “It confused me. I don’t understand why you’re buying a bar when you don’t even drink.”

“I’ve done a lot of stupid shit, Indy. Buying the bar is the least of it.” He said it with a laugh, but I wondered if Nolan actually believed it. Before I could tell him he hadn’t screwed up any more than anyone else, he said, “Besides, I’m buying the building. Not the bar.”

I rolled onto my side, facing him. “Are you thinking about turning it into something else?” After what I’d pieced together earlier today, I thought I might have an idea what for. “Maybe for your wood carving? I’m sure you could set it up inside in a way that keeps your identity hidden. Like a cutout in a wall, and the only thing someone sees when they’re wanting to buy something are these mysterious hands—”

Nolan chuckled, bringing a faint smile to my lips. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I assumed your dad told you, but when it was obvious he hadn’t, I didn’t know how to bring it up. Sort of hoped it was only a matter of time before you figured it out on your own.”

When he’d sat beside me earlier today and started whittling, I hadn’t known what to think. My thoughts jumped from one thing to another. Why had he kept it from me? Had he known Dad would gift me that star? Had he made it for me? Most of all, though, my thoughts circled back to one thing.

I was proud. Proud to see him moving forward, making something of himself.

“Honestly,” Nolan continued, pulling me back to the present, “I’m not sure what I want to do with it. But I have no intention of keeping it a bar.”

“Are you afraid if you’re around it you’ll start drinking again?” I asked, regretting it as soon as the words left my mouth. It wasn’t my business, and Nolan’s silence told me just as much. “I’m so sorry. Don’t answer that—”

“No, I want to answer you. I’m trying to figure out how to best explain it.” He twisted onto his side to face me, an arm propped beneath his head. If he felt vulnerable, he didn’t let it show. “I’m not really tempted to drink because of the alcohol. Being around it, smelling it, doesn’t affect me. I’ve got nothing against anyone who drinks and wants to have a good time—but my problem was I never used it as a good time. It was always to avoid all the hard shit I didn’t want to face.”

I pressed my lips together, not surprised by what he’d admitted. I might not use alcohol to cope, but I was guilty of avoidance as well—I’d literally moved across the country. “What led you to stop?”

“My drinking kind of ebbed and flowed with life. If life was good, I’d go weeks without even thinking about a drink. But when it wasn’t? I drank like there was no tomorrow. Part of me accepted that was just how my life would be. I’d numb out all the bad, and when things were steady in my mind again, I’d come back.” He fell silent, and I was content to leave it that way, but then he said, “When my niece was born, I reconsidered my way of life. Honestly, it started when Shay showed up. Not necessarily because of her, but what she . . . what she reminded me of. She needed someone to rely on, and Brooks was that for her. And I sort of realized it might be nice to have someone trust me, not just with the easy stuff, but the hard stuff too.” He cleared his throat. “After Winnie was born, I realized I wasn’t just numbing the bad—it was the good too. The parts that make life worth living. So instead of drinking, I turned to therapy. It was hard, but my brothers and Jake helped me keep going. And from there, I started taking medication. It didn’t fix it—I don’t think it ever will. My mind sometimes still feels heavy . . . but I can breathe now.”

My chest constricted with undeniable pressure, and hot tears dripped down my cheeks. Of joy and relief. Of sorrow. “I’m happy you have your family, Nolan—that you found a reason to live.”

“I always had a reason to live, Indy.” His voice was a soft whisper. “Winnie just helped me remember it.”

I rolled onto my back, blinking through the tears. For years, I’d carried so much guilt for not knowing how to better help Nolan. A small part of me even used to be angry, confused. But now . . . I was grateful. Grateful his sweet baby niece had given him a reason to quit. Relieved he’d sought out therapy, glad he’d found a medication that seemed to work.

There was nothing shameful about needing help.

It was quiet for a long while, and I wrestled with my thoughts as I tried to decide if I should say the words resting on the tip of my tongue. Why did you divorce me? Why did you give up when you promised you wouldn’t? Not knowing had haunted me for years, and now was my chance for answers. But it wasn’t that simple. Yes, the truth could set me free. But I knew it would hurt.

Deciding I wasn’t ready to hear why Nolan stopped loving me, I found the nerve to ask something equally as hard. “Have you talked to your mom? Since she left?”

His chest rose with a deep breath. He likely didn’t want to talk about her. Honestly, I didn’t either. It was why I hadn’t asked about her until now; she didn’t deserve his time. But it truly seemed like Nolan and I were moving forward, and to do that, I needed to know where their relationship lay. Needed to know he was okay.

Rather than Nolan telling me I’d crossed a line, he shared, “I’ve talked to her a few times. She popped back up after Dad died. Wanted to check on her sons.” He let out a curt laugh, the sound enough to send a shiver down my spine. “It took her draining my bank account for me to understand I was a damn fool and she wasn’t ever going to change. She was always going to want more than what we could give her. I haven’t talked to her since, and I pray to God I never do again.”

I clamped my jaw shut, holding back my words as a wave of emotions rushed through me. There was anger. Confusion. How could she not only desert her family, but use and abuse them? How could she look Nolan square in the eye and not see how much he was worth?

Realizing I’d never understand, I said the only thing I could. “I’m sorry, Nolan. You didn’t deserve that. And I promise, someday she’ll regret walking away from you.”

I do.

“I’m not sorry,” he whispered, surprising me. “Maybe it’s wrong of me, but in a way I’m glad she left. If she hadn’t, I might not have had the relationship I did with Dad when I was a kid, or be as close with my brothers as I am now. Hell, if she would’ve stuck around, I might’ve not run away that night... and you wouldn’t have found me.” Despite the wound the past had inflicted, the idea of not finding Nolan in the forest that night all those years ago hurt more than I expected. “Honestly, I’m okay. I’ve let her go. I’ve accepted there’s no point in hanging on to someone who wants to leave.”

I nodded, though I didn’t miss the sense of defeat in his words. I was glad he had moved on from his mom. He deserved more than her. But part of me feared some of that acceptance had come from Nolan believing there was something about him that made him deserve to be left. My soul ached at the thought, and while part of me wanted to roll over and shake him until he understood the right people would stay, I knew I needed to trust his words. He’d told me he was okay .

Wanting to lighten the mood, I propped my arms beneath my head and focused on the starry night sky. “If you could wish for anything, what would it be?”

Nolan gave a startled laugh, apparently caught off guard by the change of subject. “Did you see a shooting star or something?”

I hadn’t. But the more Nolan gave to me, the more I wanted. “No. I was just curious what you would wish for.”

“Um, I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

I twisted back onto my side. Why did he feel comfortable sharing what he just had, but not a silly little wish? “Please? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

He rolled his lips together, seeming to think it over. But rather than giving in, he asked, “How do I know you won’t cheat?”

“Why would I cheat?”

He adjusted the arm beneath his head, laying the other in the space between us. “Last game we played, you gave me all lies.”

I bit my lip. “I didn’t.”

“Okay. We’ll agree to disagree.” I opened my mouth to point out he was still wrong, but then he said, “You might have given me two truths and one lie, but I don’t believe the lies you’ve convinced yourself are true.”

I dropped my gaze to the blanket, praying the pang in my heart wasn’t portrayed on my face. But with no more than a foot between us, Nolan could see everything I was feeling. Regardless, I feigned indifference. “I’d wish for endless bowls of Lucky Charms. Ones that never went soggy.” It was true. I hadn’t had them since Nolan shared them with me as a peace offering in New York, and I was needy for more.

He cracked a smile. “See? You’re such a cheater.”

“No.” I poked him in the chest. “You’re the one who’s making this more difficult than it has to be. I didn’t say you had to bare your soul to me, I just wanted to know what you would wish for. And right now? I’d really love endless Lucky Charms.”

He shook his head with a low laugh, strands of hair falling onto his forehead. “What if I don’t want to take the easy way out? ”

He shifted, his knees brushing mine, and my heart pounded, quickening with every breath. I held his gaze, seeing the challenge there. He expected me to balk, retreat. But I stayed where I was, even when the tips of his fingers touched mine, holding on to the truth that in the end, Nolan and I always took the easy way out. “You can do whatever you want. It’s your wish.”

His throat bobbed, and his gaze left mine, falling to where our hands lay. “I’d wish for a simple life. A wife. Kids. A home that never felt empty.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. His wish . . . He was right. It was simple. For most people, it was more of a checklist, something they assumed they’d accomplish eventually in life. But it was what he wanted most.

“You can have that, Nolan.” It hurt like hell to acknowledge that while it was too late for us, it wasn’t too late for him. “You deserve it. There’s no one better for the part.”

He huffed a laugh. “I thought you would’ve learned by now to stop putting so much faith in me.”

Anyone else might’ve been shocked to hear him admit something so defeated, but I wasn’t. “No. If anything, I should’ve had more faith in you.” I put my fingers over his, his skin rough against mine. “Maybe if I had, our lives would’ve turned out differently.”

I was positive it would have. If I’d put more faith in him, if we’d held on instead of letting go and faced our problems together, I was confident our lives would’ve played out differently. I’d accepted that.

Just like I’d accepted there was nothing we could change about it now.

“If you really want that life, I don’t see why you can’t have it.” I squeezed his fingers, meaning every word. “Whether you want the big house and the bombshell wife who pops out beautiful twins when she sneezes—or something simpler than that—you can have it.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “It’s not that easy. We’re not meant to get everything we want in life.”

“Bullshit.” Nolan raised his brows, as though surprised by my insistence. He’d given up enough—why didn’t he deserve this? “What happened to no more holding back? To not letting life decide for us and instead taking what we want?”

“I can’t.”

I rolled onto my knees, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why not?”

He groaned, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Because once I start, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

“So?” I asked, not understanding in the slightest.

He lowered his hand, his gaze slowly drifting over my face, and murmured, “You have wildflowers in your hair.”

I looked down, and sure enough, there were broken flower petals and a few stickers, similar to the ones I’d plucked out of Genny’s fur. I lifted my hand to brush them away, but his fingers touched mine, stopping me. My stomach fluttered, and I was frozen as he shifted onto his knees. “Let me.”

I didn’t protest, deciding it was shock that had me doing so. He reached for me, his fingers skating through the ends of my hair as he cleared the petals away.

“There’s some on your neck.” He said it quietly, almost to himself, but his gaze flicked to mine, and I thought I might drown in the need I saw there.

I didn’t understand it, but I gave him a quick tip of my chin, not trusting my voice.

Silently, almost reverently, he caressed the side of my neck, his gaze trailing his hand. If he noticed my breaths were short pants, he paid them no heed and cupped the back of my head.

“Nolan?” My voice was wobbly. “What are you doing?”

His fingers curled deeper into my hair, soft enough that if I wanted to stop him, I could. He watched me, carefully gauging my reaction. Whatever he saw gave him the courage to raise his other hand to my face. His thumb soothed over my cheek, once, twice. “I’m taking what I want.”