Sable Peak (The Edens)

What was I doing here? I sat frozen behind the Honda’s steering wheel, staring at Mateo’s cabin.

How many times had I wished to be invited to his house? How many times had I fantasized about quiet nights alone in his home? Now I was here, and I couldn’t bring myself to go inside.

What was happening? Things with Mateo were … strange. This had to be pity, right? He was going above and beyond to be nice. To be my friend.

Except it didn’t feel like friendship. Yes, my favorite color was dark green, that wasn’t a big discovery on Mateo’s part. But none of the other Edens had noticed my hatred of broccoli. None of the other Edens looked at me the way Mateo had looked at me in the loft on Wednesday.

It was nothing. My imagination was running rampant. Too many years obsessing over him had led me down this road of delusion.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

So what if he’d picked up on the broccoli thing? So what if he’d heard me snort when I laughed too hard?

It didn’t mean anything.

It was time for me to move on from this crush.

Granted, that would be tricky now that he was my flight instructor. Seriously, what was I thinking? I was supposed to be avoiding Mateo, not coming to his house every Friday to study aerodynamic principles.

I’d done my assigned reading in preparation for tonight, and I didn’t give a damn about a single word in any of the books he’d brought to the loft.

This wasn’t really about learning to fly airplanes. This was about finding Dad.

The day Mateo and I had gone flying, I’d spotted a plume of smoke in the forest. It had been small and nearly invisible, nothing more than a white wisp floating from the trees. But that plume had sparked an idea. A new plan.

I could spend years hiking around the mountains, searching for my father. And I could be looking in all the wrong spots.

There were too many mountains. Too many trees. We could pass each other moving in opposite directions and be off by one hundred yards and not have a clue.

What I needed was a focus area. I needed to narrow down my options to places where he might make camp. Where Dad would risk a fire on cool, spring mornings.

It was too hard to do that on foot. But by air? Maybe.

So here I was, pretending to be an interested student pilot, just in it for the chance to fly. Mateo would never know that it was a ruse to find Dad.

I’d already started exploring along Sable Peak in the area where I was fairly certain I’d seen that plume of smoke while flying. I hadn’t found anything yet, but I was attacking the area in segments, working section by section on the maps I’d been studying.

It was a tactic Uncle Vance had mentioned. While he’d been searching for Dad years ago, he’d taken maps of an area and broken them into pieces so his hikes were systematic and deliberate.

So far, I’d covered three of my own segments. There were ten total charted for Sable Peak. With any luck, Mateo and I could fit in another flight. Maybe I’d find another clue the next time we went up in his plane.

But before any of that happened, I needed to get out of this car. Why couldn’t I get out of this car?

“Get out of the car.” I steeled my spine, grabbed my backpack, which was riding shotgun, and opened the door.

That first inhale of outside air settled some of my nerves.

Pine and earth and wind.

Home.

There were nights, even in the winter, when I’d sleep with the loft’s windows open just to breathe in that mountain scent.

This was the first time I’d been to Mateo’s cabin. He’d texted me directions last night, saving me from having to ask Anne or Harrison.

I’d seen his parents since Willie’s, and even though I was sure they’d heard about my drunken idiocy, they’d pretended to be none the wiser.

I really loved Anne and Harrison.

Maybe I was being a coward, but I hoped we never had to talk about it. The same went for Vance and Lyla, who’d avoided the you-kissed-Mateo topic spectacularly.

A breeze floated more of that incredible scent on the air, and though I’d managed to get out of the car, I still wasn’t ready to go inside. So I spun in a slow circle, taking it all in.

Mateo’s directions had led me on a winding path across a handful of the ranch’s gravel roads. I’d passed the backside of Indigo Ridge along the way, a notorious landmark in Quincy because of a tragic murder that had happened there a few years ago. From there, I’d wound my way up the mountain foothills to a meadow bordered by groves of evergreens.

The log cabin stood proudly in the grass field. Mateo had mowed recently, the stalks short and uniform. A stack of evenly chopped firewood lined one side of the wide front porch.

I loved the ranch. I loved the view from my loft. But this was exactly where I’d choose to live, right on the forest’s edge. Where my backyard was the untamed wilderness.

This was the perfect balance of seclusion and convenience. It was only a short drive into town. Mateo had the luxuries of modern-day life, like plumbing and high-speed internet. But out here, away from neighbors, he had peace. A sanctuary.

As a girl, I’d dreamed of living in a city. Maybe spending a year or two in New York or San Francisco after high school. Someday, I’d like to visit a city. But only as a vacation. The idea of being constantly surrounded by people and noise and traffic made my skin crawl.

“My uncle Briggs built this place.” Mateo’s voice had me whirling around to face the house. He stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the threshold. How long had he been watching me?

My cheeks flamed.

The corner of his mouth turned up as he leaned a shoulder against the door’s frame. “Have you ever met Briggs?”

“Yes. At Lyla and Vance’s wedding.”

There was no mistaking Briggs as an Eden with his dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. Though there’d been so many Edens at the wedding, aunts and uncles and cousins, I hadn’t been sure exactly how Briggs had fit into the mix until Harrison had pulled me aside to make an introduction to his beloved brother.

Briggs was five years older than Harrison. Before his dementia had forced him to move, he’d lived on the ranch. In this cabin.

“Dad tries to bring him out to the ranch once a week or so,” Mateo said. “They’ll drive around or stop and have dinner with Mom. Some days he’s normal. Others, he’ll get Griffin and Dad confused. It’s hard to see him like that, especially for my parents.”

“I’m sorry.” I unstuck my feet and walked toward the porch’s stairs. But when he didn’t move, I stopped, standing at the bottom stair as he gazed over my head into the distance.

“Briggs was always there for me. He never had kids, but he treated us like we were his own. He never missed a single football game. When the high school basketball coach retired and they needed a new assistant coach my senior year, he volunteered. He’d take us hunting and fishing. He taught me how to rope.”

Briggs sounded like Vance.

He’d been my uncle, my champion.

Mateo glanced over his shoulder, checking something inside, probably Allie. “I relate to Briggs. He’s older than Dad and could have taken over the ranch or other businesses, but he didn’t want that life. He didn’t like the idea of being in charge. He was content to work here because he loved it. He was content with a simple life.”

“That sounds like a good life.”

“My brothers and sisters all have this … ambition.”

“And you don’t?” After just two days of trying to sort through those pilot manuals, I had a newfound respect for Mateo, getting his license and being a full-time college student.

Mateo shrugged. “It’s different.”

“Bad different?”

“Different, different,” he said. “There are times when I feel this pressure. Like everyone is waiting to see what I decide to be. That they’ll be disappointed if I don’t do something grand or bold. But I never thought less of Briggs because he wasn’t in charge or running a business. I admired him for knowing his strengths. His weaknesses. Hell, most days, I feel more like I’m walking in Briggs’s footsteps than Dad’s. He did what he loved. His only expectations were his own.”

Was he saying that because he believed it? Or was he saying that because he wanted to make it true? “Sounds like you’ve got good footsteps to follow, either direction.”

“Yeah.” He gave me a small smile. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“Come on in.” He shoved off the frame and jerked his chin for me to follow him inside.

Climbing the stairs, I stepped beneath the porch’s overhang and took one last glance across the meadow.

I’d had good footsteps to follow too. They’d led me here. If I never found Dad again, I would always be grateful he’d brought me to Montana.

When I faced the house, I hovered beyond the threshold, looking for a button.

“What are you doing?” Mateo asked.

“You don’t have a doorbell.”

“Uh, no.”

“Oh. Allie loves them.”

His eyebrows came together. “Yes, she does. That’s why you ring the bell at Mom and Dad’s?”

“Yeah.” I eased the door closed behind me just as a squeal came from the living room.

“Ve-wa!” Allie ran so fast her legs couldn’t keep up with her torso. She would have face planted onto the hardwood floor if Mateo hadn’t swept her up, giving her a quick toss in the air before catching her.

“Slow down, Sprout.” He set her down and patted her diapered butt as she rushed for me again.

Her smile was contagious as she flew into my open arms.

“Hi, Jellybean.” I tickled her ribs, earning a tickle in return, then kissed her cheek. It was sticky.

There was a skillet on the stove top, and the cabin smelled like sage and syrup.

“Did you have breakfast for dinner?”

“Pa-cake.”

“Yummy.”

“Did you eat?” Mateo asked.

“I grabbed a sandwich before I left the coffee shop.” I put Allie down to toddle off to a pile of toys in the living room.

“How was work today?”

“Hectic.” School had been out for a teacher professional development day and the shop had been swarmed with teenagers and parents. Lyla and I had both opened at four this morning, and it had felt like a dead sprint the entire day. Lunch had been skipped, and by the time I’d clocked out, I’d been starving. My ham and cheese had been scarfed on the drive to the ranch.

Lyla was still there, wrapping up for the day and baking for the weekend. If I was tired, she’d be dead on her feet by the time she made it home.

“Want some water or anything before we get started?”

“Water, please.”

“Make yourself at home.” He jerked his chin at the dining room table, then walked to the kitchen and opened a cupboard.

The cabin was open and airy. The kitchen blended with the dining room, which flowed to the living area. The doors along the far wall must lead to the bedrooms and bathrooms. It wasn’t a large house, but it was cozy and inviting.

I slid into a wooden chair at the table, taking out my book as Mateo set a glass of water beside me. Then he went to the coffee table, snagging the remote to turn on some cartoons for Allie.

“She missed her nap today. We were outside doing yard work, and I lost track of time. When we came in, I decided it was too late to try. Hopefully she’ll make it another hour, but we might have to take a break so I can put her to bed.”

“No problem.”

The dragon I’d gotten her was staged to face the TV. Allie climbed on, rocking it wildly back and forth as she pointed to the screen. “Dizzy.”

Her dark pigtails curled at the ends, like the way Mateo’s hair curled at his nape whenever he let it grow long enough.

Mateo slid into a seat, chair legs scraping on the floor.

The seat directly beside mine. Not the chair around the corner of the table. Not the chair across the table.

The chair so close to my own that the warmth from his arm seeped into mine.

He scooted closer. Another inch and our shoulders would touch. That intoxicating Mateo smell, leather and spice and wind and earth, filled my nose.

Concentrating was already going to be tough after a long day. But with him sitting so close, smelling so good, this study session was going to be brutal.

“How did the reading go?”

“Good?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

I flipped open my book to the first chapter. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

Bad. It was very, very bad. All of the time I’d spent reading had been wasted. Because fifteen minutes into the discussion about lift and drag, Mateo’s knee touched mine beneath the table and my brain shut off.

“So lift is the opposing force to weight. What’s the opposing force to drag?” Mateo twisted slightly to stare at my profile.

If I didn’t face directly forward, if I turned in the slightest to make eye contact, his mouth would be eye level. Was this how he sat with other students? Not that he had other students. Did he? Why couldn’t he have just sat on the other side of the table? Or around a corner?

Wait. What was his question? “Uh … no idea.”

“Thrust.”

Of course the answer was thrust. A word that sounded like sex in his rugged, deep voice.

“Right.” I gulped. “Thrust.”

His hand stretched across the book to flip the page and our forearms touched. Heat radiated off his large frame, enveloping me like that scent.

A thud snapped me out of the haze.

Mateo’s gaze whipped to Allie, who’d fallen off her dragon. He rose, about to rush to her rescue, but she just stood up, eyes glued to the TV, and gripped the handle of the toy to climb back on. He exhaled, sinking into his seat.

I used the interruption to shift my chair over a few inches. Maybe with some space, my brain would reengage and Mateo wouldn’t think I was a complete moron. Maybe words like thrust wouldn’t make me sweat.

Except the moment he was seated and refocused, he moved his chair too. His beefy thigh pressed against mine. That heat returned.

Desire coiled low in my belly. And my brain went blank.

I swallowed a groan.

The next hour was excruciating. After getting three questions in a row wrong, he retrieved a small model airplane from a bookshelf against the living room wall. He did his best to demonstrate a plane’s movement, but wrapping my mind around ailerons and elevator control, angles of attack and wing stalls—which had nothing to do with an engine apparently—was impossible. I couldn’t focus.

“I’m sorry.” I rubbed my temples. “I swear I’m not entirely helpless. But it’s been a long day, and this material is a lot.”

“You’ll get it.”

I slumped in my chair, and my leg slid against Mateo’s. I’d gotten used to him being pressed close. But as the denim of our jeans scraped, awareness rushed in again.

He was so, so close. Why was he so close?

I glanced up at his face, expecting his profile. But he was facing me, his eyes locked on my mouth. He looked like he wanted to kiss me.

My heart rocketed into my throat.

Did he want to kiss me? Did I want him to kiss me?

Yes. Despite the fool I’d made of myself at Willie’s, despite the promise I’d made to myself to let Mateo Eden go, down deep in my heart, I wanted him to kiss me.

There were just some things I couldn’t keep locked in that box.

He leaned in closer. The blue of his eyes was darker. His tongue darted out to lick his lower lip and a throb bloomed in my core.

My pulse raced, booming in my ears.

Mateo raised a hand, his fingertips skimming the hair at my temple. His eyelids fluttered closed, his breath a whisper across my cheek.

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. If I blinked, I was certain I’d wake up alone in the loft, this entire night a dream.

“Daddy, melk,” Allie whined at Mateo’s side.

We broke apart in a flash.

He shot out of his chair, picking up Allie.

She rubbed fists into her tired eyes as he carried her to the kitchen.

“I should get going.” The book got shoved into my backpack before I ripped the zipper closed. Then I was on my feet, ready to make a run for it.

I needed air. I needed space. I needed out of this house so I could think. God, what was happening?

He’d almost kissed me. He would have kissed me, right?

“Sorry.” Mateo opened the fridge and took out a sippy cup of milk.

The second she had it in her grip, Allie tipped it to her mouth and collapsed against his shoulder as she chugged.

“I’d better get her into bed. Want to stick around? It shouldn’t take long.”

“That’s okay.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “I’m pretty wiped. We can pick it up again Friday.”

“Want to fly this weekend?”

“I’m working.”

“All right. Next week?”

God, the way he said it sounded like a date. Not that I’d been asked out on many dates. But the promise in his tone made me shiver. “Sure.”

Normally, I’d kiss Allie’s cheek before leaving, but I was so confused by Mateo that I couldn’t risk getting close. At this point, even a friendly hug would scramble my brain. “Good night.”

“Vera.” He stopped me just as I’d opened the door.

The night air should have cooled my face, but Mateo’s stare was so intense that sweat beaded at my temples. “Yeah?”

“I see you.”

My heart tumbled. My grip on the doorknob slipped loose.

This was a dream. This had to be a dream. Everything about this night had been so … off. It had to be a dream.

“Not always,” I said.

He crossed the distance between us, Allie still snuggled against that broad chest. “Always.”

Mateo used his free hand to pull the door open wider. Then he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. And untucked it a moment later.

When I lifted my gaze to his, I got lost in sapphire blue. Not a person on this earth had eyes like Mateo Eden. Not his parents. Not his siblings. Not even his daughter.

“I see you, Vera.”

The emotions swelled so big in my chest I couldn’t breathe. How long had I hoped for this? Dreamed of this? Years. I should have known what to say and what to do. Instead, I turned for the door.

And bolted into the black night.