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Finding Her Courage Page 11
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“Where’s Emmitt?”
A worried crease formed between Ty’s eyes. “Back at the ranch.”
“Is he sick?”
“Not exactly.”
“So, what’s wrong?”
There was a five-second hesitation, which was five seconds longer than Ty normally gave. “He’s just not up for church today.”
Something wasn’t right. Time for her mom voice. One word, single syllable, drawn out. “Ty...”
He looked over as she arched her eyebrow extra high. “I think Emmitt’s in trouble.”
Motherly instincts immediately kicked in. Step one: ascertain the problem. Step two: figure out how to fix it. Step three: fix it. “Trouble how?”
“Remember when I said Dillon and I missed George’s funeral because we were helping out one of the vets?” She nodded. “Well, it was Emmitt.”
She opened her mouth to question him further, but the minister stepped out and began speaking. She made a mental note to get back to Emmitt later, then shot Evie a look, worried what her daughter would think about all this. They hadn’t been to church in years. Evie probably didn’t even remember going with Wesley.
The minister was on the younger side of middle-aged, and the top of his head was just starting to bald. The crinkly look at the corners of his eyes reminded her of Santa Claus. If he’d been rounder in the frame and had a white beard, he probably could have pulled it off.
Camille wasn’t sure just how much Evie really understood, but her eyes never left the minister. When it was all over, they exited the church and Evie’s eyes were glowing.
“Like it?” Nikki asked, taking Evie’s hand. Evie nodded. When the minister came out, she gave him a hug. She was full of them this week. The minister laughed, and the Santa Claus–effect became that much more real.
Ty addressed the minister. “I guess you’ve met Evie. This is Minister Powell.” He introduced them all, and the minister shook their hands. Nikki told him what a wonderful sermon it had been, and Evie nodded her agreement. The glow didn’t leave her eyes.
If this was the effect church had on Evie, then they’d definitely be coming more often. If only God could get her to talk again or even smile, she might finally forgive Him for all that He’d put her through the last couple years.
Ty tapped her on the shoulder, and she spun so fast the crutch slipped out from under her again. She pitched forward. Ty caught her, then he caught her crutch. Their eyes locked, and for one moment she thought he might not let go. Then he righted her, and she was free from his grip. It left an empty feeling inside her.
“We’re having breakfast back at Sky High. You and Evie interested? Nikki’s welcome too, of course.”
The pitter-patter of her heart moved from a slow Sunday drive to racetrack speed. “Sounds fun.” They could eat, then get some work in.
“I can give you a ride back, if you want. I’m sure Dillon wouldn’t mind riding with Nikki, if she’s okay with that.”
“Just let me check.” Nikki was fine with driving Buffy back to the ranch, and Dillon was thrilled to accompany her.
She and Ty got Evie buckled in, and Camille was about to get back to the Emmitt thing when Avery appeared from nowhere. “Hi.” She gave Ty a hug, then gave Camille one too. She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and giggled. Camille knew what giggles like that meant—the triple F threat. Fun, friendly, flirty.
“Are you joining us for breakfast?” Camille hoped her words didn’t sound as jealous out loud as they did in her head.
Avery hesitated. “I’d love to, but I probably shouldn’t.”
Camille disguised relief with a smile she wished was genuine. Neither Avery nor Ty seemed to catch her underlying anxiety slash jealousy slash silliness. That was probably a good thing. She’d already shown Ty enough crazy; she didn’t need him seeing any more.
Avery chatted them up a few minutes, then went to meet some friends. As soon as she was gone, Camille felt a load lift from her shoulders. She knew it was silly, but that didn’t make her feelings any less real, or any easier to deal with.
* * *
Ty parked his truck in the driveway and helped Camille out. Mini donuts and coffee cake were already laid out on the dining table. A few bites and Evie would be on a morning sugar high; a few more and it would carry her straight through to the afternoon.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got more than sugar,” Ty said, reading her thoughts. “And vegetarian options.” Camille smiled.
About half the group had beaten them back. The other half were still on their way. Dillon and Nikki were among the missing. Chairs were filling up quickly. Ty grabbed three together and pulled one out for her. Camille managed to hang on to her crutches as she sat down.
The kitchen had one of those wooden swing doors. It was a little bit old-fashioned but added a touch of charm to the place. Maricela pushed it open from the other side, almost knocking into the back of Ty’s head. She looked worried. “Ty, we’ve got a problem. It’s Emmitt.”
Camille had never seen the look on a pilot’s face when he was crashing, but she imagined it looked something like Ty’s at this moment. He rushed into the kitchen without a word. Camille hesitated, then went after him. If something was wrong with Emmitt, she wanted to help.
Emmitt was standing next to the island. His back was to them, and he looked okay from what she could see. Nothing was bleeding. Nothing was burning. If he’d had an accident while cooking, wouldn’t there be some sign? Black smoke or singed hair or a dropped knife?
Ty was standing just ahead of her. “Emmitt.” His voice was low and steady.
Slowly Emmitt turned around. For half a second she thought she was looking at a different person. This wasn’t the same man who’d worked on her ankle just yesterday. The one who’d known how to console Evie and given orders with confidence and grace.
Emmitt’s face was pale. A thin film of sweat covered his brow. His right hand clutched a can of unopened beer. It was shaking. It wasn’t a look she’d seen before, but she knew what it meant just the same. It was the face of someone struggling with addiction.
When Ty spoke again, it was without judgment. “Emmitt, let’s talk through this, okay?”
Maricela, Josh and several others were standing just behind her. She caught their ashen faces and knew this was bad. Things started clicking into place. Emmitt’s silence, his moodiness, his intensity.
Emmitt shook his head and his entire face crinkled. “I can’t. It’s just too hard.” His voice cracked, and he popped the lid off the beer.
Maricela was biting her lip. Ty looked ready to tackle Emmitt if the can moved even an inch toward his mouth.
Soft footsteps came forward from the back of the room, and Evie appeared. She walked toward Emmitt. Camille moved to stop her, but something made her pause. Evie was holding the purple elephant Emmitt had given her.
Emmitt did not look up at her approach, so Evie reached out and tugged on his sleeve. He glanced at her, and she held out Mrs. Snugglesworth. He stared at it a moment, and when he made no move to take it, Evie took his free hand and placed the elephant in it for him. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug.
No one spoke. No one moved. It was a full minute before Evie pulled away, and then she didn’t leave his side. Emmitt squeezed the elephant and held it close to his chest. A smile so soft it was almost undetectable emerged on his face. Evie’s eyes never left his, and when he tried to hand Mrs. Snugglesworth back, Evie pushed it toward him again and shook her head.
Emmitt took a breath. “Thank you, Evie. This means a lot.”
She gave him another hug, and this time when she let go, he squeezed the elephant and walked around the island to the sink. The can of beer hung over the drain for a moment, then Emmitt tipped it upside down and amber liquid poured out. He crushed the can up, put it in the recycling bin and took E
vie’s hand. “Why don’t we eat?”
* * *
Ty was freaking out. He piled his plate high with bacon, eggs and toast. Going through the motions was easy; he’d done it a thousand times before. He laughed where appropriate and spoke when expected to, and the second he thought he could leave the table without drawing attention, he did.
The cows looked up as he went into the dairy barn. Several long moos greeted him before falling silent. They understood alone time. It was one of the things he appreciated most about them.
He sat down on a hay bale, stood up, sat back down. Finally, his feet carried him over to the stalls and he stroked the tips of Milkshake’s ears. She always liked that. When he walked away from her, she mooed her disapproval. Ty didn’t blame her; he disapproved of himself sometimes.
The roof was hiding the sky, but that didn’t matter. God saw through everything. Ty looked up at it. “What do you want from me?” There was no answer, as usual, but this time Ty thought he already knew.
Time to stop being scared.
The barn doors squeaked open. He didn’t have to look up to know who was there. Crutches were a one-of-a-kind sound. He turned and saw Camille standing there, the only person who wasn’t an intrusion.
“Hi.” She hesitated before taking another step toward him. “Are you okay?”
A million thoughts ran through his mind, but one was clear above all the others. Tell her how you feel. Do it now, before you waste any more time.
But was Ty even sure of his feelings? He’d been sure about Mia too. And look what happened.
“I’m okay.” Maybe he answered too fast, or maybe Camille was just that good at picking out lies. Either way, she didn’t buy it for a second.
“Is this about Emmitt?”
How was he supposed to answer that? “No. Yes. Both, I guess.” Just be honest. With her and with yourself. “It’s more about Evie than Emmitt, I think.”
“Evie? What about her?”
Ty didn’t know where to start. He moved a hay bale over so she could sit down, then took the one next to her. “I go to church every week, but for the last few years I’ve just been going through the motions. God and I, we had a bit of a falling out after my crash.”
She laid one hand on his arm. “I’m sure it was hard. Being stuck out in the ocean alone like that—”
“I wasn’t alone.”
“Sure, of course. God is always with us.”
“That’s not what I meant. It wasn’t just me on that plane.” He drew in a breath. “Jon was there too.”
Periwinkle flickered beneath the deep blue of her eyes. “Oh.”
His heart wasn’t racing; it was moving ultraslow, gripped by a crushing hand that made it hard to breathe. “I don’t talk about it. Much.” He had at first, but only because he’d had to. There’d been questions and he’d had to give answers. Especially to Jon’s family.
“Ty, I’m sorry.”
No one would ever be as sorry as he was. “I tried to get him out of the plane, but the storm was too intense. The water kept rushing in. By the time I finally got him free, it was too late.” The medics had told him later that Jon would probably have died anyway. His internal injuries had been massive.
If they hadn’t used that word—probably—Ty might’ve been able to forgive himself years earlier.
“Ty, you don’t have to—”
“No, I need to say this.” His fingers curled around hers. “When I got home after that, I was different. Mia sensed it, but I refused to see it. I did what I accused you of doing the other day. I pushed her away.”
There were no judgments or I-told-you-sos from Camille. She just squeezed his hand harder. “Mia left me for Liam, but it wasn’t her fault. I was scared to let anyone get close. Losing Jon hurt, and I never wanted to hurt like that again.”
It was weird saying all that out loud. Admitting to himself what he’d known deep down. They sat silently for a minute. Ty had already opened up to Camille more than anyone else in the last four years. And now that he’d started, he didn’t want to stop.
“I thought God had abandoned me, and today I was proven wrong.”
Confused wrinkles formed around Camille’s eyes. “What does Evie have to do with that?”
“I’ve spent the last two years trying to help Emmitt, and today I couldn’t. But Evie...” He shook his head. “God was in that kitchen with us, working through her. I felt it. He’s always been here, all this time. I just didn’t know it until today.”
She looked at him. “I think I felt it too. When Evie came into the kitchen, I went to stop her, but something told me not to.”
Okay. Time to tell her how he felt. No more fear. No more running.
“Look, Camille... I like you. A lot. Not just as business partners. And not just as friends.”
She looked down where her right hand was interlocked with his, her left hand carefully at her side.
“I don’t—”
“Just listen.” He tipped her chin back so their eyes met. “I don’t care how little time we have together. I don’t want to waste it.”
Her hands came up behind his neck. She was breathing hard. Ty moved in closer, and when she didn’t pull away, he closed the space between them. Her kiss was soft and warm and so much better than he’d imagined.
A summer wind stirred inside him, blowing soft scents and happy thoughts through his mind and body. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so alive.
Then the barn doors opened, and a woman’s voice jumped out at them. “Oh.”
Camille pulled away, and Ty turned to see Nikki and Dillon standing there. They both looked shocked. “I’m sorry.” Nikki started shooing Dillon out the door, but Camille was already on her feet.
Ty saw the panic on her face and knew she was about to bolt. “Camille, wait.” But she was already moving. Her crutches carried her out the door without a word.
* * *
Camille put on Evie’s favorite cartoon to keep her occupied, then hurried upstairs, almost falling down when her crutches slipped. She shut the bedroom door behind her. Nikki opened it a second later.
“Not now.” But her sister only stood there, grinning.
“You’ve gotta be kidding. I need details.” But Camille shot her a look, and Nikki’s grin dropped off her face. “What’s wrong?”
Her sister was oblivious sometimes. “Do you really need to ask me that?”
She sat on the edge of her bed, unsuccessfully pushing back her tears. Nikki stayed where she was a minute, then sat down beside her.
“This is about Wesley, isn’t it?”
Camille shook her head. “No, it’s about Ty.” She couldn’t look at Nikki. She couldn’t face the judgment that had to be there.
“Yeah, but isn’t Wesley kind of wrapped up in all that?”
Camille looked at her, and it wasn’t judgment she saw, only concern. “No. My feelings for Wesley haven’t changed, and they won’t. Ever. He’s my husband.”
“And what’s Ty?”
There was no good way to answer that. “He’s my friend.”
“Is that all?”
Camille shrugged and stared at her feet. “Ty wants more than I can give.”
Nikki hesitated. “It looked like you were giving plenty back in the barn.” Camille shot her a look. “I just mean it didn’t exactly look like you minded what was happening.”
Camille’s insides twisted. “Evie doesn’t need another pilot in her life.”
But Nikki wasn’t ready to let this drop. “This is about you and Ty, not Evie. Stop using her as your excuse.”
Nikki’s words slapped her across the face. They mirrored Ty’s words from the other day so closely that she didn’t know what to say, or how to avoid the truth behind them.
“So what if I like him? So what? We’re leaving h
ere in less than two weeks, and it’s not like Ty’s going with us. This can never work.”
Nikki’s silence was more unsettling than her constant questions. “Have you tried praying about it?”
Praying? George’s Bible was in the nightstand, but she hadn’t even cracked it open. Nikki obviously took her silence as a no.
“Maybe you should try. Just because you don’t have the answers, doesn’t mean God won’t have them.”
“Prayers didn’t help Wesley. And they haven’t helped Evie.”
Her words hung in the air. Nikki sat there a minute, then squeezed Camille’s hand and stood up. “Just promise me that before you do anything rash, like throw away a potentially amazing relationship because you’re scared, you’ll give God a chance.”
Camille met Nikki’s eyes. “Will you stop harassing me about Ty if I promise?”
“Yes.”
“Then I promise.” Nikki left the room, and Camille lay back. She’d promised to pray but hadn’t said when. Right now all she wanted to do was pretend she was back in her home in the city, and her heart wasn’t being torn in a million different directions.
Chapter Ten
Barns? Check. Stables? Check again. Hangar? Camille was saving that for last. Her plan there was simple. Ty would move all the planes out so the band could set up and the whole thing would turn into one big dance floor. They’d string some lights from the ceiling, add flowers and a few extra touches, and it would look spectacular.
For now she just wanted to focus on the space where the ceremony would be held. Early this morning Phoebe had decided definitively upon the stables. She and Brett would both be on horseback when they said their vows.
The ground here was hilly and rocky. Camille had to figure out how to set up a couple hundred chairs without them all tipping over. And she had to do it while balancing on these crutches. Too bad Nikki was home waiting for some buyers, or Camille could make her pick up all these rocks and help clear the ground.