Sable Peak (The Edens)

I loved fireworks.

But raucous, crowded fairgrounds? Not so much.

Sixteen-year-old me would have come alive at the Quincy Fourth of July Rodeo. Sixteen-year-old me would have been all toothy smiles and unending laughs. Sixteen-year-old me had lived for events like this. Before.

The fireworks were tempting. I loved them so much that it was almost enough for me to endure the noise. To put up with the jostling and nudging as people milled around the fairgrounds. But I’d been at the rodeo for hours already, and I couldn’t stop yawning.

“Tired?” Harrison asked.

I nodded. “It’s been a long day.”

Starting at four o’clock in the morning, when I’d met Lyla at the coffee shop to open and prepare for the onslaught of preparade customers. It was the busiest workday in my time at Eden Coffee. Even Anne and Talia had come in to help.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Edens had been at The Eloise Inn, either assisting Eloise with the hotel or Knox at his restaurant, Knuckles. Everyone had pitched in, working tirelessly, to help make sure the day had gone smoothly for every Eden-owned business on Main.

But once six o’clock had rolled around, the coffee shop and restaurant had closed, so the Eden family had all congregated for the rodeo. There were a few noticeable absences.

Uncle Vance and Winn were here at the fairgrounds, but working. The entire staff at the police department was on duty through the night.

Eloise and Jasper had decided to skip the festivities and spend the night at home with their one-month-old daughter, Ophelia.

And Mateo was gone.

He’d brought Alaina to the rodeo for an hour but had left shortly after inhaling a cheeseburger for dinner. Allie had gotten fussy—she’d had a long day being strapped to Mateo’s chest while he’d helped at the hotel to keep guests happy.

Quincy was brimming with tourists and visitors. Lyla had warned me that summers were hectic. At the moment, squished on a bleacher in a grandstand with hundreds and hundreds of people, hectic was an understatement.

How had I not noticed just how many people flocked to Quincy each summer? It wasn’t like I’d never come to town during the summers.

Dad and I had lived in these mountains for two years. We’d spent most of that time close to the shelter he’d built out of small trees and saplings. But once a month, I’d ventured to town for supplies.

Batteries for our flashlights. Tampons for my period. First-aid items like bandages and antibiotic ointment because one or both of us usually had a cut or scrape.

Two summers, and the sheer volume of people in Quincy had escaped my notice. Maybe because those visits had always been such a torrent of stress and worry.

It had always felt like I was holding my breath during those trips to town. I’d do everything in my power to go unnoticed as I stopped by the grocery and hardware stores. Then as quickly as I came, I left, hiking to our mountain rendezvous point.

I wasn’t hiding anymore. I wasn’t walking with my chin tucked to avoid eye contact. I wasn’t the girl everyone had assumed was dead.

This summer, from my spot behind the counter at Eden Coffee, I had a front-row seat to the madness that was a Quincy summer.

It was exhilarating and exhausting.

With the back of my hand, I covered another yawn, glancing to the sky. The evening light was fading. The jagged mountain horizon in the distance glowed yellow and orange, but overhead, there wasn’t a star in sight. Nightfall was a wait.

“What time do the fireworks start?”

Harrison checked his watch. “Oh, probably in another hour and a half.”

I groaned. Ninety minutes? I’d never make it.

“It’s a clear night.” He cast his blue eyes heavenward. “The mayor was bragging to me the other day that they’ve gone all out this year. I bet, if you hurry home, you’ll be able to see them from the ranch. Your windows in the loft have a great view. Can’t promise it, but there’s a chance.”

I perked up. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Drive safely. Watch out for other drivers. People are out drinking tonight.”

“Okay.” I scrambled to get my purse from beneath my feet, slinging it over a shoulder. Then I spun, about to shuffle past knees and dodge beer cups, but stopped and turned back, bending to drop a kiss to Harrison’s cheek. “Good night.”

His eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled up at me. “Night, Vera.”

After more goodbye hugs and waves, I made it to the stairs and jogged to the walkway at the bottom of the stands. Then I took the nearest exit and hurried through the dirt and grass parking lot to my Honda.

The drive out was quiet except for the blast of air that rushed through my open windows—the Civic’s air conditioning had gone out last week, something I hadn’t mentioned to Vance because if I decided to get it fixed, I wanted to pay for it on my own.

By the time I pulled off the highway and drove beneath the log archway that marked the entrance to the ranch, the stars were beginning to pop and that yellow glow on the horizon had faded to pinks and purples.

Beside the gravel lane were twin barbed-wire fences. Beyond them were meadows, evergreens and cows. The scents of grass and cattle filled the cab and I breathed it in deep.

Over the past five months, that smell had started to mean home.

Anne and Harrison’s house was dark, other than the porch light. During the day, there was always activity at the ranch, hired hands coming and going from the shop or stables or barn. Griffin stopped by at least once a day, though according to Lyla, he was running more and more ranch business from his own house these days.

Tonight, it was peaceful and still. Only a lone white truck was parked outside. The Eden Ranch brand—an E with a curve beneath—was painted on its door.

Mateo’s truck.

My heart skipped. He must be spending the night. Maybe I’d get to see him in the morning.

I parked in my usual spot beside the barn and climbed out, about to head upstairs to camp beside the window and hopefully spy the fireworks. But the crunch of gravel startled me, and I whirled as Mateo walked my direction.

“Hey.”

“H-hi.” I pressed a hand to my racing heart.

“Sorry to scare you.”

Not the reason my heart was trying to beat out of my chest. It was him. It was always him. “That’s all right. What are you guys doing?”

Mateo glanced to Alaina in his arms.

She stared up at him with bright eyes as she sucked on a pacifier.

“We had a long day.” He sighed. “The cabin was too hot tonight so we snuck down to crash at Mom and Dad’s. But since her nap schedule was all messed up today, she’s wide awake. You just missed an epic screaming fit.”

“Sorry.” I winced. “She looks happy now.”

“Some nights, she wants to sit. Others, she wants to walk around.” He shook his head, staring down at his daughter. “We’re still trying to figure each other out, aren’t we, Allie?”

She didn’t look confused at all.

Alaina Eden knew exactly who was wrapped around her tiny fingers.

“Skipped out early tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, I was over the crowd.”

“Same.” He jerked his chin toward the open gravel lot. “We’re walking laps. Knox suggested I give it a try on the nights when she won’t sleep. Drake’s a night owl, and I guess Knox used to spend night after night walking around with him until he’d finally conk out. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Okay.” As we fell in step, our shoes crunching on gravel, I ducked my chin. A curtain of my hair hid the smile that stretched across my mouth.

“Did you have fun tonight? Despite the crowd?”

“I did.” I nodded. “I’ve never been to a rodeo before. Your dad took it upon himself to teach me all about the events and scoring.”

Mateo chuckled. “He’s a good teacher.”

“He is.” Almost as good as my own dad, who would have loved the rodeo and the crowd and never would have let me leave before seeing the fireworks.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Allie squirmed, nestling deeper into Mateo’s chest.

“I like her name.”

Alaina Anne Eden.

“I don’t think I ever told you that.” For a reason I couldn’t explain, it felt important that he knew I liked Allie’s name. “Did you pick it out?” Or had Alaina’s mother?

“Yeah.” Mateo stared into the distance as he nodded. “In the hospital, after she was born, I was struggling to wrap my head around everything. I think the staff knew that and took pity on me. They let Allie stay an extra day when normally they would have sent us home. One of the nurses told me I should give her a name. That maybe it would help with the grief. They all thought I was together with …”

Alaina’s mother.

He didn’t say her name.

I didn’t say the names of those I’d loved and lost either.

“Anyway, I needed a name for her birth certificate so I pulled up Google on my phone and thought the best place to start was with A. Scrolled until I found one I liked.”

“You made a good choice.”

“Thanks.”

We turned a corner, walking the width of the parking area, then turned again, this time heading back toward the house and barn.

“Have you thought any more about moving back to Alaska?”

He shook his head. “No. Not with Allie. We belong here.”

The relief was staggering. “I was born in Alaska.” Another random fact I wasn’t sure why I was sharing but did anyway.

“You were?”

I nodded. “Before my parents moved to Idaho.”

Mateo hummed.

He didn’t ask questions. Maybe because he knew I’d share about my life but it had to be on my terms. And right now, my terms were limited. Random facts. Harmless details.

Anything more and that was where the sharing stopped.

We walked five more laps—until Alaina was sound asleep in his arms.

Mateo ran a thumb over his daughter’s cheek. Maybe they were still figuring each other out, but he was so in love with his baby girl. “I’d better take her inside.”

“Okay. Good night, Mateo.”

“Good night, Vera.” He winked, and I learned in that very moment what it was to swoon.

I waited until he disappeared into Anne and Harrison’s house before heading to the barn and climbing the stairs.

When I made it to my loft, I looked out the window just in time to see a final stream of sparks in the distance. Smoke disguised as clouds floated into the sky.

I’d missed the fireworks.

Worth it.