The Last Letter (Page 58)

“Yeah, I get that, too. But that’s a big part of being a man, knowing your strength and controlling your anger.”

“I’m seven.”

I almost laughed, realizing I’d been in his life long enough to hear him preach I’m six.

“Not for long. You could have just pulled him off, and the result wouldn’t have been as satisfying but just as effective. Plus, no principal time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, echoing my words from earlier.

“So what do you think about the house?” I’d built it for him, for Maisie…for Ella. Ironically, we’d broken up right before I could surprise her with it.

Or maybe I just should have told her from the beginning, like everything else.

He looked up at the house, his brows drawn in appraisal. “It’s good. I like it.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“It needs a tree house.” He pointed over to a gathering of pine trees. “Right there would be good.”

“Noted.”

“And a zip line.”

“Not going to give up on that one, are you?”

“Never!” He took off, chasing Havoc down the beach as my phone rang.

Ella.

“Hey,” I answered.

“What happened to Colt?” she asked, her voice pitched. “I’m so sorry, I don’t have service in that wing of the hospital, and I missed all the calls and now school is closed. What a mess.”

Her voice slid through me, soothing and cutting in one graceful move. “It’s okay.” I cleared my throat, hoping to clear the gravel sound out.

“I can’t believe you went all the way there. How far away were you?”

“Maybe ten minutes?”

“Wait. You’re still in Telluride?”

“I told you I wouldn’t leave.”

Her breathing pattern changed multiple times, like she would start to say something and then change her mind.

“So, Drake tried to kiss Emma,” I said, “and Colt went after him.”

She groaned. “What a jerk. Drake, I mean. Not Colt.”

“Yeah, I know. I might have caused a little drama with the principal, though. I told him it was partially their fault for not putting a stop to it when it happened with Maisie.”

“Right? They let that kid get away with murder. Wait, how did you…?”

I heard her slight intake of breath as she realized how I knew.

“Your third letter.” I felt the tone of our call change as my sins barged in between us, but I didn’t back away from it. “I told Colt it was great to stand up for the girl you like, but maybe a little less hitting.”

“Yeah. True.”

Silence stretched between us, sad and heavy with the things we’d already said last month.

“So, he’s playing with Havoc right now, but I can take him to Hailey if you want. He’s suspended tomorrow.”

“Crap, I’m not due home until tomorrow afternoon, and Hailey’s watching him while Ada and Larry are away, but she’s working all day tomorrow. I don’t mind him at the main house, but—”

“But the cook subbing in for Ada isn’t a big fan of kids. Colt told me.”

“Yeah, she’s kind of mean. But really good, too.” She sighed, and I could picture her smoothing her hair back, her eyes darting from side to side, trying to figure out what to do.

“I can keep him with me. I have the room, and I’d love nothing more than to hang out with him. But I understand completely if you don’t want that, and I’d be willing to bring him to Montrose, too.” Or slice my heart open and bleed out, whatever you’d like.

A few seconds of silence passed, and I almost took it back, hating that I’d put her in that kind of position.

“That would be nice, and I’m sure he’d love it. He’s really missed you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Maisie, too.”

“I’ve missed them, too. It’s…it’s been hard.”

I’ve missed you every second, so much it hurts to breathe.

“Yeah.”

More silence. I would have given anything to see her in that moment, to hold her, to fall at her feet and make whatever sacrifice she demanded.

“Look, I’ll call Solitude and let Hailey know, and I’ll be there around five tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“No problem.”

“Thank you, and I’m glad you’re still here, I mean there. In Telluride. Okay. Bye, Beckett.”

“Ella.” I couldn’t bear to say goodbye, even if just for a phone call.

The line went dead, and I looked over at Colt. I had twenty-four hours with him. I did what any rational man would. I called in to work and made the most of every minute.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ella

Letter #2

Ella,

These cookies are the best thing ever. I’m not lying.

First, don’t let the judgy PTA ladies scare you off. Though I’ll admit, I’ve been to war. A lot. And those women still intimidate me, and I don’t even have kids, so I will simply throw you the Hunger Games salute and wish you the best.

Yeah, we watch a lot of movies over here.

You asked about the scariest choice I’ve ever made. I’m not sure I’ve ever really been scared of a choice I’ve made. Being scared means you have something to lose, and I’ve never really had that. Without going into my background too deeply, I’ll simply say that I don’t have family outside of this unit. I don’t have anyone waiting for me to come home from this trip, either. Even joining the army was a no-brainer, since I was eighteen and on the verge of getting kicked out of the system.

I get scared on behalf of the other guys. I hate seeing them get hurt, or worse. I get scared every time your brother pulls some reckless crap, but that’s not my choice.

But I will tell you the biggest choice. I bought a tract of land, sight unseen, simply because it came recommended to me. The owner was in a bind, and I took the plunge. I have no idea what to do with it, either. My investment guy—yes, I have one of those so I don’t die broke—told me to hold on to it and sell it to developers when I want to retire. Your brother said to build a house and settle down.

Now that scares me. The idea of settling somewhere, not starting over every few years, is a little terrifying. There’s a peace that comes with being such a nomad. I start fresh when I move. A clean slate just waiting for me to mess it up. Hey, I warned you, I’m crap with people. Settling down means I have to work on not alienating everyone around me because I’m stuck with them. That, or I become a mountain hermit and grow a really long beard, which might actually be the easier choice.

I guess I’ll let you know when I figure out which decision to make.

Your place sounds great, and I have the ultimate faith that you made the right choice mortgaging it for improvements. Like you said, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

What the heck do you put in these cookies? Because they’re seriously addicting. I might curse you after I run a few extra miles, but these are so worth it.

Thank you again,

~ Chaos

…

“You’re sure this is the right way?” I asked Maisie as we pulled onto the dirt road. “We’re really close to Solitude.”

Telluride. Beckett was still in Telluride. He hadn’t left. Hadn’t moved on like I’d so foolishly assumed.

“That’s what the lady says from the GPS pin he texted you,” Maisie answered, waving the phone with the Google Maps app open. “Do I really get to see Beckett?”

The hope in her voice was brutal.

“Yeah, for a few minutes.” I tried to keep my tone light but failed miserably. Maybe it was the exhaustion from two weeks of hospitalization with Maisie for the radiation. Maybe it was hearing that another kid Maisie had met in Denver passed last week. Maybe it was Beckett.

Or maybe my heart was simply broken by all of the above.

“I miss him,” she said softly.

“Me, too, love,” I answered without thinking.

“No, you don’t. If you missed him, you’d call him. You’d let us see him.” Her tone was anything but understanding as we wove our way through the woods.

“Maisie, it’s not that easy. Sometimes relationships just don’t work out, and you might not really understand that until you’re older.”

“Okay.”

Man, I was in for it when this sassafras became a teenager. Then I smiled, realizing she had a shot at becoming a teenager now.

Because of Beckett.

But the lies were woven in with the love, and that was the killer. The lies didn’t wipe out everything he’d done for me, for us. They didn’t wipe out the way it felt when he kissed me, the way my body fired on all cylinders when he was in a room. They didn’t wipe out the way he loved the kids, or the way they loved him.

But that love didn’t wipe out the lies, either, or my fear that he’d tell more.

And there was our impasse.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t see past what he’d done to understand why he’d done it. It was simply that I couldn’t afford to trust him.

“Oh my God,” I whispered as we came upon the house. I looked at the lake, just to be sure, then back at the house. I would have asked Maisie if she was sure, but Colt came running out of the house with Havoc on his heels, and that answered the question.

Beckett owned the twenty-five acres I’d sold off two years ago to that investment company.

The house itself was beautiful. Built in the log-cabin style, which matched the ones in Solitude. It was two stories with multiple A-frame rooflines and stone pillars. It was classic, rustic, and modern, all in one style. The definition of Beckett.

Colt threw open Maisie’s door. “There you are! I missed you!”

“Me, too!” she said, and the two locked in a hug.

“Hey, honey,” I said when they broke apart.

“Hi, Mom!” Colt threw me a grin over the back of the seat. “We made dinner, come on!”

“Oh, Maisie doesn’t feel too well.” I immediately panicked at the thought of spending any more than a few minutes with Beckett.