She's the One (18 page)

Dylan brought the Cub in for landing, figuring by now Zeke was in the house giving Colt a lecture. The moment he climbed out of the plane, he heard his father’s shout.

“Did you see him?” Zeke ran toward him.

“Slow down, dammit. Did you run all the way here?” And then his question sank in. “You haven’t found him?”

Zeke slowed to a stop and bent at the waist, his hands on his knees as he drew in ragged breaths. “No. Dylan, I’ve turned the house upside down. I’ve looked everywhere. The beds, the closets, his tree house. I can’t find him.”

Dylan scanned the area for any sign of Colt’s dark head, not allowing himself to panic. Yet. “He’s got to be here somewhere.”

Cold fear was beginning to pour through Dylan’s veins. If Zeke had searched all those places for Colt and couldn’t find him, the boy didn’t
want
to be found. Or he was hurt. Or lost. Where was he?

Not wanting Zeke to overdo it after his race to the
landing strip Dylan said, “Walk back to the lodge and look again. The pantry room and the bathtubs…maybe he’s playing a game. I’ll take a look around the dock.”

Once Zeke was inside the lodge, Dylan ran as fast as he could, calling Colt’s name. On the other side of the lake a bull moose lifted his head and hunkered down, ready to charge despite the distance. Was Colt out there? What if he came upon one of the animals and it thought Colt was prey? Attacked? “Colt!”

Every shout brought memories of the fire, the total terror of the unknown, of what he might find when he finally located his son. “
Colt!
”

The dock was clear, the boat empty. The Beaver, too. He ran along the length of the dock far enough to jump to shore, heading toward the storage shed. It was locked up tight. Surely Colt wouldn’t have gone to the cabins?

Dylan scanned the surface of the lake, searching for anything, hoping, praying to see Colt throwing rocks into the water, oblivious to the chaos he’d created.

Where was his son? His every breath the past two years had been taken with Colt in mind. He’d worried about Colt, cared for Colt, protected Colt because Dylan hadn’t been the father he should’ve been the first few years of Colt’s life. But this was a fist to the gut. It proved he couldn’t protect Colt. No parent could.

Had he taught Colt what he needed to know to survive…outside of what Alexandra had coined the
bubble?

“Colt,
answer me!”
Alexandra’s words echoed in his head.

The air left his chest in ragged jags because no matter
where he searched, he saw no sign of his son. “Colt, make some noise so Daddy knows you’re okay!”

Nothing. Dear God above, there was
nothing
but the sound of his own voice echoing off the lake and trees.

“Dylan!”

Zeke’s shout stopped his heart even as it spurred Dylan to action. He ran up the sloping hill to the lodge, expecting to see Colt standing beside Zeke but only found his father waiting on the porch, his face lined with worry and pale with strain. “Did you find him?”

Zeke nodded repeatedly. “I found him. He’s okay—but he’s not here.”

I
T TOOK AN HOUR AND FORTY-FIVE
minutes for Dylan to refuel and fly to Anchorage. Zeke stayed behind, putting the lodge back to rights after the frantic search and supposedly taking it easy.

When Dylan landed, Ansel and Sam met him at the door.

“Dylan, I’m sorry.” Sam glanced over his shoulder to where Walter sat with Colt on the seats in the waiting area. “I had no idea he was on board. He must have snuck on while I was getting coffee.”

“He’s fine, though,” Ansel added, patting Dylan roughly on the shoulder. “No worse for wear at all. Unlike you right now. That was a long flight, eh?”

The longest. Because all he could think about was the reason
why
Colt had snuck onboard Sam’s plane. He was running away. “Has he said anything?”

Ansel’s face softened. Being frequent guests and friends of Zeke’s for a while, they knew of Colt’s problem.

“No, son. Not a word. He just followed orders, sat where he was told and has been holding that horse and the photo the whole time.”

And they all knew why. Two days ago a packet from Alexandra had arrived in the mail and ever since Colt
had been even more withdrawn. The envelope had included copies of the photos she’d taken of him, Zeke and Colt along with a memory stick containing the digital files and a note stating all other copies had been destroyed. Also included was a picture of her horse, Bandit—just for Colt.

Thinking of the review, the photos and knowledge she had access to and the way she could have used them, Dylan lost some of his anger.

“Zeke’s guests are getting tired of the delay but I wanted to apologize in person,” Sam told him. “I’ll be sure to double-check from now on.”

From now on?
This wasn’t going to happen again.

“Had to be scary back there wedged between the bags the way he was.” Sam chuckled. “Reminds me of when I snuck on my uncle’s plane to hitch a ride into Anchorage for a night on the town. I was ten and bound and determined I was going to get out of no-man’s-land and have some fun. I hated being stuck in the middle of nowhere. It’s why I soloed at fourteen.”

Ten. Fourteen. That was only a few years older than Colt now. And if Colt was sneaking on planes at five, what was he going to attempt at ten and fourteen?

Dylan murmured his thanks for their help and headed for Colt. His son looked up, his eyes widening when he saw Dylan approach.

“See? There he is. Told you it wouldn’t be long now, didn’t I?” Walter patted Colt’s knee and stood. “Dylan, glad you made it safe.”

“Thanks.” He waited until Walter walked away before squatting in front of Colt. His son was smudged from what appeared to be chocolate but otherwise
looked fine as Ansel had said. He wanted to ask
What the hell?
but tempered it with “Were you scared?” He didn’t wait for a nod. “Grandpa and I were
very
scared when we realized you were gone. We searched all over for you and when we couldn’t find you—” his voice roughened with his fear-fueled anger “—we thought you’d gotten lost or
hurt.”

Colt dropped his gaze until his lashes nearly dusted his cheeks and two big tears rolled silently down his face.

He wanted to pick Colt up and shake him, do
something
to get Colt to realize the danger of what he’d done, what could have happened to him. Instead he forced himself to take a deep breath and unearthed patience from a source he didn’t know he had. “You miss Alexandra, don’t you?”

Colt’s hands clenched over the horse’s flanks. With his head lowered, one of Colt’s tears splattered on the picture of Bandit.

Colt lifted his elbow, wiped his face on his coat sleeve.

“Yeah, I thought as much. But no matter how much you miss her, you can’t take off like that. Do you understand me?
Never again
. Your grandpa was worried sick and Ansel and Walter have missed their flight home because they stayed here to be with you until I could fly in to get you.” His son’s shoulders slumped with the weight Dylan applied but he hardened his heart at the sight. Colt had to be made to understand. “Colt, she’s
gone
. Alexandra’s not coming back, but you’re old enough and smart enough to know she wouldn’t want you running away like you did.” At the end of his rope, Dylan swore silently and stood. “Come on, we have to get back to the lodge and give Grandpa a hand.”

Colt didn’t move.

“Colt, I said let’s go. We need to get in the air before it’s too late and we have to spend the night here.” When Colt still didn’t budge, Dylan lifted his hand to place it on Colt’s shoulder only to watch in stunned amazement when Colt ducked to avoid his touch and scrambled out of the seat.

After everything he’d done, Colt did not just—Dylan grabbed him before Colt took more than a couple steps away. Colt immediately began striking out the way he did in the midst of one of his dreams, and despite wanting to turn him over his knee, Dylan pulled his son to his chest, horses and all.

“Noooooo! Alllllex!”

Screamed directly into Dylan’s ear, it took a second for the pain to subside and the words to sink in.

Colt had talked.
Yelled?

Dylan released Colt to hold him at arm’s length, staring into Colt’s anger-reddened, tear-streaked face.

All this time Dylan had prayed for a laugh but a yell served as well. The relief and happiness he felt at the breakthrough was quickly overtaken by resentment and awareness. Colt’s last words were of his mother, and his first after two hellishly long years were for
Alexandra?

He stared at Colt and fought the pain slicing through him. Was he still such a lousy father?

Thinking about Alexandra’s stay with them, Dylan couldn’t count the number of times Colt had responded to Alexandra rather than him. The night she’d curled up in bed and sang the lullaby, when they’d played together in the tree house. Now this. Colt didn’t respond to Dylan but to her. Always her. And the truth of it stabbed him
in the soul. She’d left them and yet he and Colt were still hurting. “She’s gone, Colt. Alexandra went home. Now, come on, we’re leaving.”

Sheer stubbornness crossed Colt’s face and he dug in his heels, refusing to budge when Dylan straightened and tugged on his arm.

“Going to see
Alex
.” Colt held the horse and photo tighter against his chest.

A rough huff of amazement escaped Dylan. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All the worry, the sleepless nights. Colt had been listening, learning, exactly the way the doctors had said he was. And now that Colt had made up his mind to see Alexandra…

“Isn’t that something,” Walter said, a smile in his voice. “Won’t be long before he’ll be talking your ear off.”

Because Colt was no longer afraid. He was determined, he was fearless. He was on a mission.

The only thing now standing in Colt’s way was his own father.

And his father’s fear.

Dylan realized he was staring at a little man possessing more guts than he had himself. Colt wanted Alexandra so he was going after her. Period.

Dammit all to hell, his
five-year-old
had the balls to face what he couldn’t—the world.

A wave of awareness washed over him and suddenly Dylan knew he was angry at the wrong people. He’d been angry with Alexandra, angry with the world for accusing him when he’d been proven innocent, but more than anything he was angry at himself. He should have fought harder, held his head higher. He shouldn’t have run away. Should have stood his ground the way Alex
andra had stood hers. She didn’t want to be away from her close-knit family, didn’t want to live in a bubble.

At least Colt was running
to
something, to some
one
. He wasn’t running away at all. “You want to see Alexandra?”

Colt nodded without hesitation. “And Bandit,” he added softly.

And Bandit
, Dylan repeated in his mind. Colt wanted to go and do and see, just as Alexandra had said she liked to do on her vacations. She was a travel reviewer used to seeing the world, and even though he hadn’t known that at the time, what right did he have to expect her to give up everything because he was—the admission wasn’t an easy one to make, even to himself—
afraid
of the past?

He couldn’t. He wanted her but if he hoped to keep Alexandra in his life,
he
had to be the one to change. The one to grow. Alexandra was a woman who knew what she wanted and refused to sacrifice it. How could he not respect that?

Who better to help him face the future than the woman he loved? Than the one brave enough to set him straight and walk away, even as she’d said she loved him—and he believed it.

Two hours ago his biggest fear was not finding Colt safe. Now it was staying so rigid he drove Colt away the way he’d driven Alexandra away. Of finding himself on that tract of land, safe, but last man there, bereft in the world he’d made. Alone.

Alexandra had called him on his fears, much as he’d hated her for saying it. Every parent wanted to protect their child, but how long would it be until Colt hated
him? Resented and rebelled? Colt’s five short years had passed in a blink of an eye and it wouldn’t be long before he was old enough to decide whether to stay or go on his own. And looking at the boy in front of him Dylan knew what Colt’s answer would be.

Colt squirmed in Dylan’s hold.

“Can we go see Alex?”

Could they? Even if he tracked her down and managed to make amends, what about her family? How would they react to the news of who he was? What he’d allegedly done?

You going to let fear stop you? Again?

No. Because she was the one. She was the one who made him want more, to dream of everything, a future. The one who unblocked his muse, who made him smile and remember how to love. She held his heart in her hands because she was the one who’d opened his eyes and made him realize he
was
holding Colt back and he was going to lose
everything
if he didn’t wise up.

It may have taken him a while to get his head on straight but now that he had, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

A
LEX STARED AT THE PATHETIC
-looking, spindly tree and knew it was perfect. With its drooping branches, miniature stature and total lack of fluffy big tree appeal, it suited her mood perfectly.

“You cannot be serious.”

Shelby made the statement as she walked up to stand behind Alex where she stared at the wannabe tree.

“That one?”

“Yup.” Alex turned to search the thinning line of
evergreens for her nephew Matt. Since coming home, she and Shelby had had a long talk in Shelby’s kitchen and made up after their fight about Luke. Having her best friend married to her brother would require more getting used to than she’d thought, but they’d work it out fine. “It’s the right size.”

“It’s half-
dead.”

A wry smile curled her lips. “Maybe it’s just waiting for the right person to come along.” She lifted her hand when she spotted Matt. The boy came running. Dressed in his Boy Scout uniform, Matt and his other troop members were holding the tree sale to help fund future field trips. “How much, kiddo?”

Matt’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs and a stupefied expression marked his cold-reddened cheeks. “Dad said that one was gonna be recycled. It’s the top somebody cut out of a tree they bought because it wouldn’t fit in their house.”

Not a good fit, huh? Could it
be
any more appropriate? She and that tree were destined to spend Christmas together. “Here’s a donation then,” she said, pressing a twenty into Matt’s pocket. “I’ll carry it home.”

Home
. That sounded so strange. But after getting up out of that bed in Mexico a couple weeks ago and booking a flight to Tennessee, she’d stopped by David’s office and turned in her notice. He’d been shocked to say the least. She’d always sworn she’d never give up her dream job, but standing here beside Shelby and Matt and looking at that sad little tree she didn’t have a single regret.

She’d rented her brother Nick’s old apartment above the gym, rented a storefront in the building her business
man brother had just purchased and planned to open her own photography studio January 3—if she could get the work done on time. She’d sunk most of her savings into renting both places and buying equipment and props, so the much-needed painting and cleaning had to be all hands-on.

Photographing kids and pets and weddings wouldn’t be as exciting as traveling the world and capturing wolves in action, but that was okay. She was ready for the next stage of her life.

The grown-up stage.

“Sure you don’t want me and Luke to drop you off?”

She shook her head at Shelby’s query. “Thanks anyway, but I want to walk by the studio again.”

“It hasn’t changed since you left it an hour ago,” Shelby teased.

“I know, but I forgot to measure the window and I want to put up white lights after I get the painting done.” She gave Shelby a hug. “I’ll be working on it all day tomorrow but I’ll see you for the ultrasound.”

Alex took her time on the walk home. The sun had set a half hour ago, and the air was crisp and cold, with the tiniest of snowflakes drifting down from the sky. No accumulation was expected but it definitely made for a pretty sight amongst the colorful Christmas lights and displays gracing the mostly empty streets.

That would take some getting used to. All the shops closed at six when she was used to having twenty-four-hour availability in the touristy towns where she traveled.

Carrying her three-foot twig beneath the ornamented streetlights, Alex took the longer route down Main
Street and window-shopped as she made her way back to her apartment via the studio. Rounding the corner off Main, she came upon the building. Squeezed in between two larger ones, it had once been a mom-and-pop grocery, then an attorney’s office, then a small clothing store. Quaint and cute, it was full of potential with lots of decorative trim and old-fashioned appeal.

Alex stood and pictured the exterior painted a deep red, the entry door a glossy ebony, and black-and-white portraits on display in the window and hanging from the ceiling.