My Kind of Wonderful(40)



“Mom.”

She smiled. “What, baby?”

He didn’t take his eyes off of her. “Stay. Stay right here, right now, okay? Stay with me.”

“Well of course I will. Where else would I be? You going to eat your pickle?”

Stunned, speechless, throat burning, Hud handed over his pickle.

Carrie munched on it, and then they ate their birthday cupcakes. She smiled at him.

He smiled back, feeling his heart lighten and a load come off. “It’s a nice night,” he said. “Do you want to take a walk outside?”

She eyed the clock. “Nice try but it’s past your curfew. Off to bed with you. Go on now.”

Hud let out a long, slow breath and nodded, the pain back in his chest. He got up and leaned over her to kiss her on the cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

She smiled sweetly up at him. “Right back atcha, baby.”

Hud walked out of her room and shut the door. Leaning against the wall, he pulled out his cell phone, called Jacob’s, and left a voicemail. “I don’t know where the f*ck you are or what the f*ck you’re doing,” he said, “but you’re a complete *.” He paused. “And I’m f*cking sorry. Okay? I suck as a brother and I’m sorry. Now get over it and get your ass home.”

He shoved his phone in his pocket and walked out of the building. The night was dark and stormy. Winds had died down. The skies were trying to decide between a very light snow and clearing up.

He found a tall, broad shadow leaning against his truck, hood up, head down.

“How is she?” Gray asked.

Hud shook his head.

Gray studied him for a moment and then turned and looked into the night. “Good conditions.”

“Yeah.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah.”

Half an hour later they were at the top of the mountain, skis on. Night skiing was their secret thrill, and they gave in to it in times of high stress. “How did you know where I was?” Hud asked when they stopped to catch their breath.

“Penny.” Gray shrugged. “Like I told you, it’s good to have a woman at your six, man. And not just any woman, but your woman.”

Hud looked out into the black night lit by a sliver of a moon. They each wore headlamps so they didn’t do something stupid, like ski into a tree. If Penny discovered where they were now and what they were doing, she’d kill them.

But much as Gray loved her—and Hud had no doubt that Gray would die for her without hesitation—Penny didn’t know about this. But she knew about everything else as it pertained to Gray, everything—the good, the bad, the ugly.

“How do you know when it’s time?” Hud asked.

“To let someone in?”

“Yeah.”

When his brother didn’t answer, Hud turned his head and looked at him.

“You’ll know,” Gray said.

“How?”

“Trust me. You’ll just know. Clear?”

Yeah, clear as mud.


Late on Friday night, Bailey drove just ahead of a storm, which followed her up the mountain. It was a little stressful but she liked the idea of being able to wake up and go right to work.

Plus it meant more time in Cedar Ridge.

It’s not Cedar Ridge you rushed up here for…

Laughing at herself, she dropped off her bag at the efficiency apartment and walked in the dark to the village. Past the tiny coffee hut, closed now, but she could still smell the faint scent of the caffeine and sugar that were mainlined there every morning. The rental shop was shut up tight as well, for once utterly devoid of the hundreds of skiers and boarders that passed through the place every morning seeking equipment. The beauty salon was closed, too, but there was a light on and within she caught sight of Aidan’s girlfriend Lily hunched over a laptop. She waved.

Other than that, there was no one else around. The mountain had closed to skiers and boarders several hours ago. The only thing open now was the cafeteria, and that was getting ready to close too.

The path had been cleared and rock salt laid down to keep it from icing up. They’d had a bunch of snow this week, she thought, a little surprised at the berms built high on either side of the trail. The wind had died a little bit and the snow fell silently in thick lines, each snowflake the size of a big white dinner plate.

It never failed to awe her as she stopped and just took it all in: the glorious view of the mountain backdropped against the black night, the eerie, calm quiet echoing around her.

She stared up at the mural—protected from the elements by two walls of the lodge and the huge overhanging patio roof. The beautiful tree was the centerpiece, stretched across the top and bottom of the wall, framing in the highlights on the family tree as they moved in chronological order from left to right. She’d started with Gray, since he was the oldest. The leader. The glue.

Well actually, Penny was the glue, Bailey corrected with a smile. She loved them both already, adored their relationship, and knew that the others did as well.

In any case, she could now see what the entire tapestry would look like and for a moment she felt an overwhelming surge of emotion.

Pride.

Because she was really doing it. Surviving and living and doing something with her life, something she’d never expected to get to do.

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