In the Stillness(47)

Until he hops out of the back of the farm truck.

“Ryker,” I whisper as I stop dead in my path, causing a woman to bump into me from behind.

“What?” Tosha mouths “sorry” to the woman behind us as she pulls me to the side. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

I set my bag on a nearby ledge and walk almost trance-like toward the mid-sized box truck. I should be running in the opposite direction. Far away. I have no way of knowing what the last ten years have done to him.

Tosha shouts unabashedly after me. “Natalie! Where are you going?”

As soon as “Natalie” springs from her mouth, Ryker stands straight and turns in my direction.

Holy shit, it’s really him.

With erratic breaths, and my heart slamming against my throat, I maintain my march toward him, needing confirmation that he’s really standing there and this isn’t the final straw in my psychological breakdown. He wipes sweat from his brow with his forearm, then takes off his gloves and rubs his eyes for a second before seeming to blink me into focus.

Yeah, it’s really me.

He’s more muscular than he was the last time I saw him. He’s the size he was before he left for deployment. Tanned and dirty, he takes my breath away. Still, this can’t be happening. I stop ten feet from him and stare a second longer than is socially acceptable. Miraculously, my vocal cords work.

“Ryker?” I shake my head, certain I’ve tumbled off the edge.

A lopsided grin takes over his face as he shakes his head, too.

“Natalie.”





Chapter 23





It’s him. He just said my name . . .

My jaw loses tension and the late-May air around my body is suddenly frigid. Neither one of us moves, until someone I assume is a co-worker walks up to him. I remind myself that Tosha’s car is a short fifty-yard dash away.

“We’re all set, Ryker, just bring them the inventory sheets and they say we’re good to go.”

That guy just said his name, too.

“All right, Steve-o. Thanks.” Ryker slaps him on the shoulder—but never looks at him— grabs some papers, and walks toward me.

Tosha calls from behind me as she approaches. “Seriously, Natalie, what are you do—” I hear our bags hit the ground. “Ryker?”

Ryker’s grin turns into a full smile as he stops just in front of me. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I say inside my exhale.

Because Tosha is the best friend I barely deserve most days, she saddles up next to me and takes my hand as I watch her look Ryker once over. She surely sees the same thing I do—a man. A healthy-looking man who is smiling at us like that’s all he does. His dirty-blonde hair is long enough that he can run his fingers through it, and as he does, I search for a reason for me to walk away. There are so many. And, frankly, so many reasons for him to push past us and move on with his life. I ruined his.

“Hi Ryker.” Her tone is light.

“Hey Tosha!” She lets go of my hand and hugs him as he reaches over her shoulders.

In the brief silence at the end of their hug, his cerulean eyes shift to me and I see my Ryker. The softness I first met has regained its footing across his face, and I can’t believe I’m staring at the same man who was in the midst of an overdose the last time I saw him. Knots tighten through my stomach at the realization we haven’t seen or spoken to each other since the stairwell in my dorm room nearly ten years ago. I really should just say “nice to see you” and walk away.

But, I can’t. He looks so happy to see me and, really, I’m happy to see him. I know that his dad would have called if anything happened to him, but, I’m honestly happy he’s alive.

I lunge forward—as if pulled by a magnet—and lock my arms around his neck. His hands find their special spot on my lower back, and he squeezes me close as he drops the papers he was holding. There are no words because, well, there are just no words. In a second, every painful memory I’ve been holding onto for a decade is washed away by the feel of his scruff-covered chin against my cheekbone and the smell of earth bursting through his neck. We sway back and forth two times, I think, before I let go and take a step back.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” I chuckle uncomfortably. I come here all the time, have lived in Amherst for seven years, and have never once run into him. Not once.

Ryker tucks his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugs. “I just got a contract with them last week, this is our first delivery.”

The look on my face must clue him in to my confusion.

Pride joins our conversation through his voice. “It’s my farm, Nat. I started it two years ago and this is the first year we’re selling off of the property.”

Tosha and I turn toward each other and mimic wide-eyed stares. I smile back at Ryker. “That’s amazing, Ryker, good for you.”

“Thanks.” His eyes slip to the ground for a moment before causally coming up for air along the line of my dress. “You look great, Natalie.”

“You do too.” The air is no longer cold.

A truck approaching behind Ryker’s sounds its horn.

“Shit, listen,” he shakes his head as if to clear a million words from it, “I gotta get these papers inside and get back to the farm. You should stop by sometime and see the operation.” He picks up the last bag and hands it to me. “It was great seeing you, Natalie.” He seems to be saying my name at every opportunity to convince himself he’s really talking to me. He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before picking up his papers and jogging inside.