The Last Letter(110)

“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.