Twenty-three

O n the drive back, Anna absorbed the quiet until they reached some old buildings. Then Wyatt found his voice again. He pointed to a building behind some trees, bringing it to life with his description of a "burly man with scratchy whiskers" and a cat that looked like a "leopard" rolling across the grass, fighting over a tiny ball.

Though disappointed with Wyatt about Jon Alan, Anna couldn't avoid being entertained. She giggled, half afraid that if she didn't stop laughing, she'd have to stop for "a little break." She studied the trees and dilapidated structures, their windows now covered with thin pieces of honeycombed wood. Then she stiffened, fighting where her mind went.

"I'd like to see the old house. Is it still intact, or have people changed it?"

"I doubt anyone's been inside since you and your mother moved to Texas, probably afraid it would fall on them."

"Can we go by before we go back to Boise?"

"Sure, but be prepared. Childhood memories are powerful. They can wallop you."

She smiled. Childhood memories.

"Where'd you go to school, Wyatt?"

"Boise. I never actually lived at the cabin. It just seemed like it since it was my happy place. Dad was overwhelmed by everything going on with Mother. Now that I'm older, I get that. He went through a lot."

She shifted sideways, bracing an elbow on the console between them and planting her chin in her hand. "We all had a lot going on. Lost in my world, I guess I didn't realize other people had things going on too. Did you live in the cabin when I lived next door? How did you know me?"

"I was at my grandparents' house a lot when I was a child. My mother was ill. I stayed there for summers and almost every holiday. Her illness started with more mental things, then deteriorated into other health issues. Everything just kind of stopped being in sync or something."

She waited before speaking, thinking about what he'd revealed, then reached over, and placed her hand atop his on his knee. His lower lip and cheek flinched, but he remained facing forward, watching the road. She'd have missed the flinch if she wasn't watching. She understood his pain. The cab held their silence as they connected.

"My childhood memories of you are vivid, Anna." He turned his hand, threading his fingers through hers. "I roamed all over the hills, and so did you. You had a tree house in one of the squatty trees, and I'd slip notes or flowers from the field in there, something goofy like that."

He smirked, but it faded fast. "I was bored, and I was a kid. I wasn't that much older than you. I knew you were sad. I was sad. I guess I just wanted to help make it a little better for you, and that would make it a little better for me. It's still that way."

His voice seemed young and childlike, his grin shy before he turned it away. "You don't remember anything about those days?"

She shook her head. "Just a blur of days spent in a broken-down shack. There are some good memories, but most aren't. I was still young when Mother announced she found a better position and we were leaving for Texas. She struggled to find work here since we lived in such a remote area. The only jobs were really in Idaho City. I don't know why she didn't break away sooner or what kept her here. She didn't discuss that type of decision with me. I was too young. One day, she announced we were moving. Less than a week later, we were gone. I never looked back."

That was a skill her mother perfected, a skill Anna tried to learn early. Long ago, she'd pushed those memories, even the good ones, from her mind.

Now, sitting beside Wyatt, she could smell the fragrance of flowers. She was back in the dream from the plane. She was a child lying on the green grass with flowers— from Wyatt —in her hand.

She'd blocked the memories, the flowers, the notes. But they were flowing back. "Oh my." She pressed her free hand to her heart, her other fingers still secure in his. "I do remember my simple, childish notes to you and yours to me!"

She closed her eyes and rocked her head back against the headrest as her heart continued to soften. She remembered everything . How had she forgotten? She remembered her first love through the eyes of a child.

She kept her eyes closed, afraid they might reveal her secret, but she sensed his probing glances as the silence lingered. She used the time to regain her strength and realize the depth and power of their connection.

Then he slowed for the gate, and the truck bumped up the driveway. When she opened her eyes, the headlights probed the night shadows.

He came around, opened her door, then helped her out. "What if we do a simple dinner with leftovers and try out the hot tub?"

As they meandered past, she glanced at the oversized hot tub elevated above the pool. Stones the color of a muted rainbow surrounded the steaming water. With the lights' illusion, the crystal-blue water seemingly reflected a sky asparkle with stars.

"I didn't bring a swimsuit." Her lower lip curled down as she thrust it out in a pretend pout. With everything she'd packed, no swimsuit.

He blinked rapidly, then tilted his head to the side with a suggestive shrug.

Ignoring the tease, she kept her voice steady. "I was coming to meet the caller." She gave him a playful wink. "It never occurred to me this trip would be anything involving water or fun."

He scuffed his toe across the deck. "There might be something stashed in one of the drawers. You'll have to meet my sister sometime. It's hard to believe she rarely comes here but still leaves so much lying around. Now I'm sorta glad she's a hoarder."

His feet thudded up the stairs. Then wood banged, and hinges creaked as he opened and shut drawers. He soon returned, holding up a green-and-black one-piece swimsuit.

"Wow. Tag still on and all. I approve." She snagged it from him and bounced up the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later, she joined him. His head lolled against the hot tub's tall back seat when she reached the open glass doors, a towel wrapped around her waist. At her footsteps, he jerked his head up and gave a sheepish look and a soft teasing whistle.

She shed the towel and touched her toe in the boiling water, and her heartbeat jittered as she stepped in. The water covered her higher and higher before she lowered herself onto the bench.

Then he pushed a button on the built-in remote, leaving only the hot tub and pool lights remaining. The waterfall glistened and splashed and bubbled down over the lights. The twinkling sky glowed.

She stretched her hand up as if she could touch a star, giving in to the intimate setting's magic.

Wyatt scooted closer, his arm pressing against hers.

"You're so beautiful." His husky voice caressed her ear. His tender eyes greeted hers. "I need to tell you something. I've been waiting because I didn't want to go too fast or scare you."

Her body tensed as she braced herself.

"I've been struggling to keep some distance from you because I have to tell you a secret."

She held back a gasp. Not another secret!

He lowered his gaze, fingers trailing in the bubbling water. "Anna?" His Adam's apple bobbed with his hard swallow. "I've loved you since we were children roaming this mountain. There's been no one else for me—only you. When I saw you in Grandville, well, I couldn't believe it. I wanted to tell you then, but I didn't want to scare you. For years, I kept a note to you in the tree house." He paused, almost basking in the relief of finally saying it all out loud. "And then when Martha called me, of course, I volunteered."

Her heart thundered over every thought of reason, every whisper of warning.

He raised his gaze and searched hers. The longer he looked, the more his shoulders relaxed. Then he lifted a warm, wet hand and traced the outline of her jaw, his finger slipping toward her lips and pressing against the plush center. "I love you," he repeated. "I always will."

She became dizzy with emotion, her thoughts jumbled. Then a calm settled over her, accompanied by a feeling—not physical. It was deeper, stronger than anything she'd ever felt in her entire life. She was content—complete.

She covered his hand, cupping it against her cheek. "I–I've had doubts about you. Greta, Devlin, Grandville, and this property, it was all too much. I couldn't remember you, and that scared me too." She tipped her face just enough to let his hand slip, his palm gliding to her mouth, and she held it there to press a kiss, captured in his hold, the way she felt when his eyes met hers. Then she moved his hand back into the water with hers. "I have felt an attraction, one I didn't fully understand. But now—now, I remember. You were my first love."

Wyatt reached over, just one finger at the base of her chin was enough to guide her in, draw her closer without forcing her. Then he kissed her lips, his heated fingers brushing her cheek.

She snuggled against him, sliding onto his lap as he wrapped her in his arms. Her response seemed to overpower him, and he drew back to catch his breath, then yanked her closer, his kiss now more intense. He whispered sweet words with another kiss, soon close enough for his heart to thud against hers.

Then she scooted away, drifting across the hot tub to her seat, a sudden heaviness on her chest. "What does tomorrow look like for us? There's so much uncertainty, so many unanswered questions."

His hand closed the chasm between them, his fingers finding and lacing with hers. "We will face this together—you and I—just as we did when we were young. I can't answer more than that, but I'll never leave you. I am forever yours."

Never leave you . She'd never had anyone stay with her. Not even her mother. She let him guide her in and laid her head against his broad shoulder. "I am ready to go to the old house," she whispered.

His hand stroked her arm. "We'll go tomorrow."

They remained silent. The evening turned to night, and the air continued to cool. At length, he pushed a button on the remote, brightening the lights, then helped her from the tub. He picked up her towel and wrapped it around her like a loving hug. She faltered as their gazes locked, and he held her tight for another moment—for a lifetime.

He checked the security monitors, and they walked beside each other up the stairs. At her door, he placed his arm around her waist and his hand behind her head, lifting her lips to his. "Good night, my love," he said before he retired to his room.

She turned back, her mind full of dreams long after his door closed.

Somehow, morning seemed to come too soon—maybe it was all the daydreams she'd entertained throughout the night. Now, the air was cool, so she pulled the covers up around her for one last snuggle. Then the silence in the house prompted her to hurry.

When she headed downstairs, he was there. Already moving around, making things happen. With the coffee calling her, she almost didn't have time to speak. She sidestepped him, holding up a hand to silence his good morning. "Coffee quotas don't just happen, ya know."

She grabbed the filled cup too hastily, the heat radiating against her skin. She jumped, setting it down on the thick slab-oak island.

Then she stepped closer to him. She took in a subtle breath. Instead of sandalwood and spice, he smelled like the outdoors—earthy and clean. Her eyes widened. Here in this cabin, the morning sun shining over his shoulder, he was a part of this outdoor wonder, like the creek and the pines.

"Are you going to help me or what?" He smirked, cutting ham into little cubes, the cheese waiting to be grated.

She picked up her coffee again, took a couple sips, and reported for duty. "How can I help, sir?"

"The omelets are started if you want to take care of the fruit."

She nodded and brushed her hand down his arm, the touch a reminder of last night. She lingered, savoring the unexpected feeling of being immersed in the perfect temperature of warm water while looking at the starry night. His glazed eyes focused on her, so he felt it too.

After breakfast, they grabbed their jackets, locked everything, and followed the path back to her memories. Anna's heart was beating fast, her pulse racing. Wyatt held her hand as they started up the grass and dirt hill, but he released his grip after a few steps. She moved freely, facing her past at her own pace.

Atop the hill, the familiar sweet scent of syringa danced into her senses. She stood still, overlooking the clustered bushes and the old broken house. Hummingbirds fluttered about, chirping and clicking where they hovered over fragrant flowers.

"I'm ready." She focused on the old house. As she crossed the path leading down the property, she remembered chasing scruffy white chickens in their fenced pen and the sweet taste of freshly picked huckleberries. She could almost taste the sweet, sometimes bitter, flavor in her mouth and feel the bucket tug against her fingers as it grew heavier with each added handful. She half expected to see her mother standing on the makeshift porch to make sure the berries made their way into the bucket.

The powerful scent tingled her senses. "I remember bright-yellow flowers alongside the front porch and Mother's battered white car in the driveway. Molly, our milk cow, always mooing by her weathered water trough."

They walked the property. The old barn was a pile of fallen wood. Pieces of plank remained where the wood fence once existed. The wired fence was twisted and rolled into a rusted ball.

"Everything looks much smaller now."

At the old house, she hesitated. Sometimes things were better left in the past.

"We can walk in together." He threaded his fingers through hers. At her nod, he opened the door. Hanging by one rusty hinge, it gave little resistance other than a creak. The musty smell of mold and dust wafted out, and she covered her nose. The cracks in the walls didn't help move air stagnant and heavy with dampness and dirt.

With everything in disrepair, Wyatt kept his head on a swivel and his gaze moving, probably monitoring the structure to ensure it wasn't going to topple as they breached the threshold.

A small shoe lay in the bedroom, and some toys remained in the closet. Dilapidated furniture hunkered about. "I can't remember if we left in a hurry or just abandoned what we couldn't take."

She shivered. "It doesn't seem like my mother to leave the place untidy. We always had to clean the house before anyone came over. I'm surprised to see even one personal item still here, but I've seen enough." Glad to have come, she was ready to go. "Funny, I didn't feel a rush of emotion or a flood of memories. It's just a building."

They'd started out the door when something caught her eye. A worn book with a frayed cover. She picked it up and rubbed her finger across the rough edge. She could hear her mother's voice as she read it to her as a child. She slipped it into her coat's large pocket, walked out the one-hinged door, and headed to the waiting cabin, her safe place, feeling much stronger than before.

Wyatt reached over and put his fingers around her hand, covering it with love. It was as if he were somehow proud of her—proud of her courage, proud of her for facing her demons.

"Where was the tree house?"

He tipped his head up the hill, then pointed past undergrowth and bushes toward a cluster of trees.

"Do you mind if we walk up that way before we head back to Boise?"

"No problem."

They hiked up the path and then found an overgrown trail, but he clearly knew the way. With his pace increasing, she had to hurry.

"Wyatt, slow down," she finally said.

He slowed and stopped. The trees stood closer and closer, guarding the trail as the forest became dense and thick. Long branches on dead trees seemingly reached out, blocking the path.

They struggled through. She was about to give up when she spotted broken wood planks hanging from a squatty tree. "It's smaller than I remembered."

As she walked toward its remains, she felt its pull. With each step, she seemed to get smaller and smaller until she was a girl again, surrounded only by trees. She was by herself. She circled the base, remembering each tree and each scent. It was her haven, where she went to think, to dream, and to read her notes. Her notes from Wyatt—Wyatt. He was standing there, watching and waiting, her only friend.

"I remember the flowers and the notes—roaming the hills." How they would peek at each other as children. Some of their notes were childish pictures or short bursts of kindness. But each had power. Notes written by children trying to be strong.

Then her eyes grew large, and her mouth opened. She clamped her hands over her ears as she heard the thundering crash. She heard a man's voice calling her name and a child's scream.

She spun toward the tree house, her pace now a run. She was racing, tears following. She was there, and so was the tree not far beyond. It was rotten now. The years had begun to destroy it.

She searched around, panicking, looking for him. Where was he?

The memories crashed in, and she pivoted toward Wyatt.

He hadn't moved. Still watching, still waiting. She approached him, remembering why they left.

He wrapped his fingers around hers, and they stood there watching the past. When she was ready, they took their time moving away from the tree house, toward the cabin.

The burgers were on the grill, and the air smelled of wood and spices. The splashing waterfall glimmered with the lights. Then a jarring sound interrupted the peaceful balance. Anna blinked as Wyatt stared at the ringing phone as if it had broken some type of forbidden rule, eyebrows raised. He mumbled something about unlisted numbers and walked to the landline.

"Hello?" He twisted the receiver in his hand while she made the final touches to her pasta salad. Then his tone stopped her. "Who is this? How'd you get this number?"

She scanned the cabin, the windows, and the wide-open door. Her pulse quickened, and she didn't know where to hide.

"She called you from here? What's your name?" Wyatt raised a golden-brown brow at her. "Garrett?"

She walked over as he checked himself, getting back under control, and handed her the phone. He seemed careful to slow things down and avoid a forceful handoff.

"Hello?" She cringed as she made it a question.

"Anna, Anna, is that you? Are you okay?"

Wyatt hadn't moved. Not one inch. With him standing so close, he could speak into the receiver, and his breath heated her neck. When she gave him a give-me-space look, he stepped back. One baby step.

"Garrett. Yes, I'm fine. Why are you calling? Is everything okay?"

"I hadn't heard from you. I was worried." Hadn't it just been a day? Or two at the most? That was a little extreme, wasn't it? Although he had seen a few things happen to her.

"I'm fine. Just busy. Wyatt took me to my childhood home today."

Wyatt made a grunting noise, his face all twisted up. When she gave him another glance, he didn't read it, or if he did, he didn't move.

She clenched her teeth, her stomach tightening as she tried to listen to Garrett but also pay attention to Wyatt. What was this? Jealousy or a concern for their safety?

She didn't have time for games. She'd speak how she wanted and to whom she wanted. She'd earned the right to decide who she trusted. She didn't ask Wyatt to get involved with all this.

Or did she? Yes, actually, she did.

"Hey, Garrett. We have food on the grill, and we're about to eat." At her words, Wyatt disappeared to tend the meat. "I can call you tomorrow, maybe, but don't worry if I don't. I do appreciate you calling and checking on me. I promise I'm okay."

Wyatt strode back in, stopping too close to her.

"Okay, Anna." Garrett's long exhale rattled the receiver's tinny speaker. "After all that's happened to you, I want you to be safe. I feel I should be there somehow to make sure you're okay. You'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

"I'm okay. Yes, I'd tell you. It's thoughtful of you to call, but I'll call you in the next day or two. I'm okay. No code words needed." That made her smile. That is, until she saw Wyatt's face.

"Goodbye, Anna."

"Take care, Garrett." She hung up, took slow, purposeful strides into the kitchen, and remained silent. They weren't discussing serious topics at dinner. Let that begin now.

But with Wyatt still standing there, wearing a poker face, it seemed like she was passing a handsome wooden carving of an athletic hiker. The kind that stood beside a resort gift shop.

In the kitchen, she grabbed the pasta salad and splashed in more Italian dressing to moisten it. Then she passed the handsome statue and headed out to the poolside table. What was he doing? Life was short. She didn't have time for drama. Don't disappoint me, Wyatt.

She set the salad and checked the meat. He'd covered it beside the grill. She carried it to the table, the foil crunching under her grip. She was hungry. Would he ever come outside?

She'd already stuffed her mouth with a delicious burger bite when he headed her way. She averted her gaze and tightened her lips. She'd not discuss the call. She could be trusted, and she knew— mostly!— who she could trust.

"That was your doctor?"

"We don't want to have this conversation." She took another bite.

He scraped out his chair and sat, scowling those gorgeous eyes at the foil-wrapped burger platter. Hunger strike or just a kid pouting?

Great. She huffed. "Yes, Garrett was my doctor."

"Didn't sound like a doctor-patient checkup."

No denying that one. "He's referred me to another doctor for ethical reasons. He's shown me nothing but respect and courtesy. He was there when I needed him, and he is a stand-up, trustworthy guy."

He picked up his iced tea glass, clattering the ice around as he didn't drink.

"Look. I don't know what you're thinking or where your concern is coming from—if it's for you, for me, or something else—but I won't have it. I make my own decisions. I decide who I trust."

He set the drink down, one finger tracing the condensation along its side. Funny, she could see the little boy in him now.

"Wyatt…" She softened her tone. "You know how I feel about you and that I appreciate everything you've done. But these things lately have really gotten to me, and I haven't been able to stop all of it. So, when I have control over what I can control, I will. I'm not ungrateful, and we both know I am attracted to you—more than attracted. But I'll make my own decisions. I've earned that. So have you."

"Whew." He let out a low whistle, one side of his mouth quirking. "You're something else. You know that, right?"

What was that supposed to mean? She cocked her head at him.

He reached over and traced a damp finger along her jaw. "Maybe the most amazing person I've ever met. Here I am, acting like a schoolboy on the playground, and you're this incredible grown woman, still intact, positive, and on the offense."

When she snorted, he moved his finger to tap her lips into silence. "Nothing about you begs for a big strong man to save you. You are strong, but you bring out strong emotions in me."

She kissed his finger. "Thank you for being honest in return and for everything you're doing for me, but you need to slow down and trust me. Let me be myself."

"I'll work on that. As long as we're being honest, I'll admit it's more than physical, this attraction. I've been attracted to you since I was a child watching your strength and imagination. It sounds like Garrett and I have the same instincts. We want to protect you, and I'm glad he was there to scare off the intruder."

Anna cupped his hand to the side of her face, then scooted back. "Let's eat and enjoy our last night here. We can play some music, talk, have something to drink, or just be still, but let's enjoy this glorious night and let everything go. Reality will come tomorrow. Tonight, we're here."

She shuddered. Who knew what they'd face tomorrow when they returned to Boise.