Reunion Pass: An Eternity Springs novel (6 page)

She’d gone. She’d started going almost the minute she started college. “So, you’ve done it, haven’t you?”

“Done what?”

“You’ve made it. Doctor Lori Reese.”

“Murphy. I took my dad’s name.”

“You took my heart first.”

“For goodness’ sake, Chase.”

When she lifted the milk to her mouth and gulped it back like a tequila shot, he knew he’d flustered her. “I’m happy for you, Lori. I truly am. It’s what you always wanted.”
Most. More than me.

Damn, Timberlake. Have a pity party, why don’t you?

“
I’m happy for you, too,” she replied. “Lana seems like a very nice person.”

“She is. She loves me for me.” Chase was glad he managed to keep the hurt out of his voice. Lori had never embraced the adventurous part of who he was. “She loves the person I am.”

“She’ll wander with you,” Lori said softly, sadly.

He looked up at her. Their gazes met and held. He heard the note of entreaty in his own voice as he said, “I love what I do, Lori. I’m good at it.”

“Yes. I know you are. I’ve followed your career.”

“You have?”

“Of course. My mom and your mom made sure I was kept up-to-date.” Her mouth twisted wryly and she added, “Then there’s the tabloids and celebrity news sites. Did you ever think you’d be fodder for TMZ?”

“Not in a million years. I still don’t understand the attraction of celebrity, to be honest. Lana takes it all in stride—she thrives on it to be honest—but the whole thing can be a bit overwhelming at times.”

“I think it would drive me crazy.”

He winced. “It does me. They’re like bees who suddenly swarm. They’ll show up with no warning, and I won’t have a clue how they found out where we are. Some of the paparazzi are excellent photographers. They could make a living doing photography lots of other ways.”

“Paparazzi can make a lot of money. One of Gabe Callahan’s sisters-in-law used to be one.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Lori nodded. “Torie. Matt’s wife.”

“Hmm. You’re pretty tight with the Callahan family, aren’t you? Wasn’t that guy you were with at the bowl-game party a Callahan?”

He didn’t miss the subtle straightening of her spine. “Yes. Brick is Mark’s son.”

Chase sipped his Scotch. “Brick. That’s an … interesting … name.”

“Nickname. His real name is Chris. His dad started calling him Brick because he’s stubborn and it stuck.”

Alcohol had dulled Chase’s thought processes. “Stubborn?”

“His head’s as hard as a brick.”

“Ah. Yeah. Of course.” Chase decided he didn’t like thinking about ol’ Chris Callahan being hard anywhere. “So does he live in Texas like his father?”

“No. He moved to Colorado last year. He bought into Silver Creek Ranch when the Reardons sold out.”

“A local rancher,” he mused. Of course she’d go for a guy with cows and horses. Suited her. “Is he good to you?”

She sipped her milk, then licked her lips. “Yes. He’s a very nice man.”

He’s perfect for her. Just like Lana is perfect for me.
“I guess it all worked out the way it was supposed to for us.”

“I guess it did.”

He swirled the whisky in his crystal glass and brooded a moment longer. “Do you ever wonder about it?”

“Wonder about what?”

“What might have been. If we hadn’t broken up. Where we’d be in our lives right now.”

“Actually, if we wanted to be sticklers about it, we never officially broke up.”

“Yeah.” Frowning, he thumped his finger against his glass. “That’s always bothered me. We both acted badly there. Avoidance, I guess.”

“I guess.” Lori must have finally decided not to flee back to her bedroom because she sank into the overstuffed easy chair across from him and tucked her feet up under herself. “It’s bothered me, too. Maybe we’d both feel better if we did something about it.”

“Rewrite history?”

Lori lifted her mug of milk as if in toast. “Michael Chase Timberlake? Will you break up with me?”

He twisted his lips in a rueful grin and lifted his Scotch to return the toast. “Lori Elizabeth Reese Murphy, I’m honored to break up with you. Salute!”

The silence that settled over them at that point had a comfort to it rather than tension like before, and for the first time since he’d mentioned the word “Chizickstan” to his parents, Chase began to relax. “So … back to my question. Do you ever wonder about it?”

“About us and what might have been?”

“Yes.”

“Sure. Sometimes. I think it’s only natural to sometimes second-guess the choices you make in life. Especially the big ones. You were very important to me for a long time, Chase.”

Just not as important as earning your DVM.

Okay, so maybe a measure of bitterness still soured his gut. Possibly his pride continued to cling to its black-and-blue marks. Perhaps he remained absurdly grateful that he’d never popped one particular question. Would he ever get over her?

Lori continued, “But I try not to look backward. ‘Of all the words of mice and men,’ you know?”

Chase finished the Vonnegut quote. “‘The saddest are what might have been.’ Yeah, I know. But I think it’s important to remember the good times, too. You and I had some great times, Lori.”

“That we did.” She sipped her milk, then smiled a little wistfully. “I’ll never forget the treasure-hunt anniversary date. Such romance! You outdid yourself with that one, Chase. Sent my teenaged heart over the moon.”

The squeak of the hinges on the kitchen door screen jerked Lori out of the argument she was making for the appropriate punishment for criminals convicted of animal abuse, the topic of her high school senior thesis. Mom was home from her Saturday-morning quilt group which meant the morning was flying by. Lori made note of the time on her computer screen. Nine forty-five. Chase was going to pick her up for their date at eleven, so she would finish this paragraph, then hop into the shower. Today was the anniversary of the day they’d met, and Chase was coming in from Boulder for the weekend. He’d planned a special date, though he’d refused to give her details of just what.

They’d both worried he wouldn’t be able to make it here this weekend. With his graduation from the University of Colorado less than a month away, he was winding down projects and gearing up for finals, and the last thing she’d wanted to do was interfere with his studies. She knew he’d worked extra hard earlier this week to free up time to make a trip to Eternity Springs.

Out of the shower with her hair dried and styled and her makeup on, she stood in front of her closet debating what to wear. He’d told her casual, so she went with jeans and her favorite green sweater. Green was Chase’s favorite color. The evergreen color of your eyes, he always told her.

She heard the doorbell ring precisely at eleven. Giving her lip gloss one last touch-up, she headed downstairs. She found her mom standing at the front door, gazing toward the porch with a silly grin on her face. Lori glanced out the window, but didn’t see Chase.

Her steps slowed. “What is it, Mom?”

“Well, it’s a puzzle.”

A moment later, Lori saw what she meant. The three-foot-high stuffed animal—a giraffe—had a big bow and yellow ribbon tied around its neck. A note card and a large puzzle piece dangled from the ribbon. Delighted, Lori lifted the animal and read the note. “Roses are red. Corn is yellow. Collect the clue at the starting spot to find your fellow.”

“What in the world does that mean?”

Lori giggled aloud. “It means go to the Trading Post. Remember? Chase came into the grocery store looking for work while I was stocking shelves. He opened a box of canned corn for me. He’s doing a treasure-hunt date.”

“Clever boy,” Sarah said.

“Oh, Mom.” Lori hugged the giraffe tight and turned shining eyes toward her mother. “I like him so much.”

Years later in his parents’ family room on a snowy winter night, Lori turned a wistful smile toward Chase.
“
That’s the day I knew for sure that I’d tumbled head over heels for you.”

His lips twisted with a crooked smile as he rose and stirred the coals and tossed a small log on the fire. “Coming up with the rhymes for those clues all but killed me.”

Laughing, Lori quoted from memory. “‘My heart you’ve taken like my mouth loves bacon.’”

“Pure poetry.” He polished off the last of his whisky, then resumed his seat. “Your moment is better than mine.”

“What moment?”

“The moment I knew I’d fallen in love with you. One of the worst moments of my life.”

“Well,” she snapped, offended.”How sweet.”

“I can’t hear a John Denver song without thinking about it. Reliving it.”

Summer sunshine toasted the back of Chase’s neck as he walked up Spruce Street, hand in hand with Lori. Square white tents lined the street with artists and artisans selling everything from paintings to pretzels. The town was packed to the rafters with every hotel room and vacation rental in a fifty-mile radius booked. “It’s a good end to the tourist season,” he observed as the aroma of warm funnel cakes drew his attention.

“A great end,” Lori agreed. “Mom is over the moon. She said last night that her profits were up double over last year. It’s really going to help with the expenses of my going off to school.”

Chase’s heart gave a little twist at the mention of their pending separation. He and Lori had made the mutual and mature decision that they’d both be free to date other people once she started school at Texas A&M later this month. Having gone off to college himself four years ago, he knew that having the option to date around was an important part of the college experience. If he and Lori were meant to be, well, they’d survive it. He cared about Lori very much, and while he didn’t like thinking about her dating other guys, he had confidence that their relationship would survive the test.

“In the spirit of assisting with your education, I think I’ll buy a funnel cake from your mom. Want one?”

“No, thanks. Those things are evil. They have about a million calories apiece. Of course, everything my mother makes has about a million calories each.”

“That’s what makes them so delicious.”

The singer in the cover band playing John Denver hits finished up “Fly Away” as they approached the tent where Sarah Reese sold baked goods. She had a frown on her face and Chase identified tension in her stance.
Uh-oh. Something’s up.

He stepped forward and Sarah spotted them. Lori noticed her mother’s troubled face, too, because she said, “Whoa, there’s a frown for you. Tell me you’re not all stressed out about the quilt contest?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Then what’s the matter, Mom? You look like you mixed up the salt and the sugar when you mixed your funnel cakes.”

“Hopefully nothing, but … there was a guy by here that said some things that made me uncomfortable.”

Chase stepped forward, his gaze scanning the crowd. “What guy? What did he say?”

“No one from around here. Do me a favor, would you? Run over to the sheriff’s office and tell Zach I’d like to speak to him?”

“What guy?” Lori demanded. “What did he say?”

“Where’d he go?” Chase asked, glancing around.

“It’s probably nothing, but go on now.” Sarah made a sweeping motion with her hand. “Go get Zach.”

She dismissed them by turning a bright smile toward a couple pushing identical twin boys in a stroller. “Oh, if you aren’t the cutest little guys in town! One of my best friends has twin daughters about the same age as these boys.”

Chase tugged Lori’s hand and they started up the street. “That’s weird,” she said. “Mom works with the public all the time. She doesn’t shake easily. But if she were too worried, she’d have picked up the phone and called.”

“We get some strange characters coming down out of the mountains from time to time.”

The sheriff’s office was only a couple of blocks away from Sarah’s arts festival booth, so they reached it quickly only to discover from the dispatcher that Zach had left the office a few minutes earlier to begin a foot patrol of the festival.

They explained what they needed and the dispatcher immediately attempted to reach the sheriff on the radio. They heard only static. “I swear that radio he carries is nothing but a piece of junk. We need new equipment around here desperately. I know he was headed north. If you two scoot out the back door, you might catch up to him before I can pass along your message.”

Lori and Chase left the sheriff’s office and jogged back toward Spruce, turning north. “There he is,” Chase said, spying Zach Turner walking toward them, his radio at his ear. He waved and called the sheriff’s name.

Zach returned the wave, said something into his radio, then returned it to the clip on his hip. Down the street, the band launched into John Denver’s “Annie’s Song” as they drew within speaking distance. Zach said, “Hello, Lori. Chase. What’s up?”

“My mother is looking for you. She’s worried about—”

Bang!

Chase instinctively turned toward the sound. A man he didn’t recognize held a handgun pointed in their direction.

Zach started forward. Chase lunged for Lori as the vocalist sang about giving his life away.

Bang!

Zach fell. Chase and Lori fell.

She gasped in pain before they hit the ground.

Bang.

Something warm and wet seeped onto Chase’s arm. Blood. He smelled it. Saw the bright red horror of it. Time seemed to stand still.

Lori. Dear Lord. “Lori? Lori!”

Chase closed his eyes and shuddered at the memory. “I’ll never forget it. You said ‘I think I’ve been shot’ and my blood ran cold. It’s the most afraid I’ve ever been, before or since. You were so pale. We were both covered in blood. I was afraid we’d lose you. Afraid
I
would lose you. That’s when I knew I was in love.”