Chapter Twenty-Two
Willow
“Hey, Willow,” Tillie said as she glanced up from the notepad she held. “Hey, Thea.”
“Hi, Tillie,” we greeted almost in unison as we held down a booth at Bigg’s for lunch.
“You two know what you want?”
“Actually, we’re waiting for one other person,” Thea answered.
Tillie looked at me. “Oh?”
“Wait, he’s here! Hey, babe.” Thea tilted her cheek for her husband’s kiss before he slid into the booth next to her.
Tillie’s smile drooped, and I almost laughed. Man, she had it bad for Cam, and Cam only had it bad for me. The thought had me smiling from ear to ear. It felt a hair shy of criminal to be this happy.
We ordered quickly—it wasn’t like the menu changed often—and Tillie took off to put in our orders.
“So Cam isn’t joining us?” Pat asked slowly, his arm wrapped around Thea’s shoulders.
Danger, Will Robinson.
“No,” I replied with a soft smile, because I couldn’t help but smile when I thought about him. “He has the psych eval for his dad’s case right now, and then he has to get up to the mine.” And I had this lunch, and maybe this lunch only, to get Pat on Cam’s side so we could start swaying public opinion. We being myself, Thea, and Charity, since Cam refused to play politics.
In an election year in Alba, public opinion was everything.
June twentieth had been circled on my calendar since Cam told me he’d been given a court date a few weeks ago. We were two weeks away, and the tension among the locals was about as thick as it could get.
The tourists, of course, couldn’t have cared less. They came in waves, trickling in on weekdays like this, only to hit us by a thousand or more a day on the weekend. Business was good.
“How’s that going?” Pat asked, his smile tight.
“The case, the mine, or Cam?” This had the potential to get super awkward super fast.
“Uhhh—” Pat suddenly found his napkin incredibly interesting.
“Oh, stop it,” Thea chided but tugged his tie playfully. “Come on, Pat. That’s still Willow.”
Pat rolled his eyes but finally met mine. “I’m sorry. It’s just…odd.”
“The case, the mine, or Cam?” I teased him with a repeat.
“All of it,” he answered truthfully, then let out an oof as Thea elbowed him. “What? We’ve been friends for long enough to tell her the truth, honey.”
“We have,” I agreed as Tillie appeared with our drinks.
We all thanked her, but she only responded directly to Pat as she moved to another table.
“Well, then truthfully, I have a hard time with the guy. You know that.” He shrugged in apology.
“He’s still pissed that Cam wouldn’t let him into the hot springs party his freshman year,” Thea jibed.
Pat side-eyed his wife. “That’s not it. Look, Willow, you’ve been put through more than your fair share, and I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“And I appreciate the concern.” I swirled my straw around the ice cubes in my lemonade, making them clink. “But Cam isn’t going to hurt me.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward. “You’ve only been together for, what? A couple months? Cam isn’t known for being easy on anyone or anything.”
I folded my hands on the table and looked him straight in the eye. “You were Sullivan’s best friend, so I get the protective bit, and I’ll let that one slide. That one, Pat.”
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say more but then shut it instead.
“I love Cam. Cam loves me. He has never once hurt me, unless you’re thinking about the summer he may have bruised my feelings.”
Pat’s mouth set in a way that told me that was exactly what he’d been thinking about.
“Trust me, I bruised his deeper. There’s a hell of a lot of backstory you’re not privy to, and no, I’m not going to tell you, because it’s none of your business.”
“Never once hurt you? He saved you from the fire he started.” He said it gently, so I didn’t kick him under the table.
“That was ruled accidental,” Thea hissed.
“Sure, as in he accidentally knocked over a tiki torch while he was accidentally slipping it to Olivia Maxfield,” he countered.
Yeah, I wasn’t about to go there.
“Regardless of how that fire started, it was Sullivan who left me in the bunkhouse and Cam who ran in to get me out.”
Pat startled, and I almost did, too. I’d never once laid blame at Sully’s feet for leaving me there.
“I never thought of it like that.” He glanced away. “God, you must have been so pissed at Sully.”
“Not really,” I answered honestly. “I was terrified for a minute, and the smoke was so thick…” I trailed off, feeling the heat of the flames ghost over my skin and dry out my mouth. “And honestly, if we hadn’t been asleep in that back room, we would have gotten out sooner. Sullivan would have gotten us out.”
“But he only got himself out.” Pat ran his hands over his red hair. “And you didn’t beat the shit out of him after? I mean, I don’t even remember you being angry. You just said something about getting separated, not him leaving you.”
I looked at Thea, and she lifted her eyebrows. There had been only one person truly privy to my feelings back then, and true to the code, she’d never spilled—even to her husband.
“Honestly, the support beam came crashing down between us, and when he saw that I was on the other side, he said he would go for help. I hit the floor to get to the good air. I saw Sully’s feet make it to the door, and yeah, I was a little…disappointed. But I also knew Cam would come for me, even if it was only for Sully’s benefit. Deep down, I knew.”
Pat blinked. “Willow, I love you. You know that. But you simply knew that the biggest asshole in Alba was going to risk his life to come help you? Cam never helped anyone…back then,” he amended with a tilt of his head.
“I knew.” My shoulders lifted in a shrug. “There are three things you can count on when it comes to Cam.” I held my fingers up as I began to list them. “One, his family is first. He always cleaned up Sullivan’s messes so nothing bad ever stuck to him.”
“Hey,” he snapped; then his focus went hazy for a second, as if he was thinking. “Huh. Okay, I’ll give you that one.”
“Two, he’ll self-destruct at the first opportunity. And three, he shows up for me. I didn’t always see it back then, but it’s true. There was no chance that he wasn’t coming in after me if he knew I was in there.”
Pat leaned back, absorbing what I said.
“Cam has saved my life four times and has always been there when I’ve needed him.”
“Okay, but just think about this for a second, please, and don’t hate me for asking. Did you ever stop to think that the only reason you were in danger in the first place—at least as a kid—was because you were around Cam?”
I waited his requested second only because he was married to my best friend and I’d loved his. “No, Pat. I get that you might not understand this, but I’m his, he’s mine, and that’s not going to change. Ever. And I guess you have to choose between joining the rest of the old Alba gossips at the barbershop or opening your mind about Cam. Remember just how much Sullivan loved him. And no, he didn’t get Sully killed. By the time Cam got there, he’d already been shot. That”—I held up two fingers—“is now two, because that’s none of your business, either, but I know how much you miss Sully.”
Pat swallowed, and after what might have been the longest minute of my life, he finally nodded. “How’s the mine coming along?”
Thea visibly relaxed.
I took the olive branch and ran. “Good. They’re on track to have the 1880 tunnel open all the way to the third ventilation shaft by the Fourth of July. Cam figured that one would be the biggest draw. The rest of that tunnel and the other two will have to wait for next season.”
“That’s incredible. The Historical Society council was thrilled when they heard there would be a soft opening this year.”
“By thrilled, he means the clapping exceeding golf level,” Thea added as Tillie arrived with the food.
She juggled the plates with a dexterity I envied, then looked at me after setting my burger and fries in front of me. “You sure like the burgers and fries, huh, Willow?”
“Yep.” I reached for the ketchup. There was zero chance I was letting her get under my skin.
“I was just thinking it must be hard to stay in shape, seeing as you sit all day with your art stuff, right?” Her smile was faker than her eyelashes. “It must add up quick.”
“Oh, don’t worry about Willow.” Thea chuckled. “She gets plenty of workout time. At night. At Cam’s. You know…with Cam.”
My teeth sank into my bottom lip to keep a straight face, but Pat didn’t bother hiding his sputtering laugh. Progress. A few weeks ago, he would have seethed at Thea’s implications.
Tillie gave Thea a look that could have curdled milk.
“True,” I jumped in for fear that Tillie would come across the table at my friend. “And in fact, I was heading up to see him after this. Would you mind putting in an order now so it will be hot when we’re ready?”
Still glaring at Thea, Tillie took out her notepad and pen. “What would he like?”
“Let’s do a double-bacon cheeseburger, medium, with avocado, ketchup, lettuce, and tomato. Oh, and a salted caramel shake, too. That would be great!” I smiled up at her.
She clicked her tongue. “You sure about that last one? I’m pretty sure Cam likes chocolate fudge shakes.”
“Oh, he does,” I assured her. “That’s for me. I have to stock up on my calories so I can burn them off later, right?”
“Right.” She spun and left.
“And the case?” Pat asked, clearly making an effort.
“Not sure. Art is pretty adamant about getting the DNR.” I started in on my food.
“On the days he’s lucid?” Pat doctored his own burger with mustard, but his tone told me he’d definitely been hanging out at the barbershop.
“Yes, Pat. On the days he’s lucid. He called Cam and asked for his help, which is the whole reason Cam moved back. Plus, after his hospitalization, he’s pretty determined.”
Pat chewed slowly and nodded.
“He even went with Walt to get a DNR tattoo across his chest,” Thea added. “Xander flipped his lid.”
Pat seemed to mull it over. “He did say something about it not being legally recognized,” he admitted. “That it was more his dad having a hard time coping with ending up on that ventilator than actually wanting the DNR.”
“Trust me, babe. If a man gets that tattooed on his chest, he’s serious.” Thea popped a fry into her mouth and nodded.
“But still, Xander’s been taking care of him for years. This whole mess feels like Cam wants…” Pat sighed at his burger. “I can’t even say it.”
“Wants what?” I prompted.
“Wants his dad to die,” he finished in a whisper. “Everyone knows they don’t get along, and it just feels…wrong. He’s only fifty-eight.”
Holy crap, this was what we were up against. Alba seriously thought Cam just wanted to get rid of Arthur because they didn’t like each other?
“You’re right. Art’s only fifty-eight, Pat. That’s only thirty years older than we are right now, and he’s asking to determine what happens to his own body. He’s asking Cam to go against everyone in this town, including his own brother, because he wants a say in whether or not he ends up strapped to a hospital bed on a ventilator again. And if he didn’t have Alzheimer’s, no one would think twice about what he’s asking. You can get a DNR today if you want one, but he can’t, because fifty percent of the time he can’t depend on his brain. So what, the other days—when he can—those don’t matter?”
“They should,” he muttered.
“Yeah, they should. But everyone is making this about Cam and Xander, not Art. And trust me, if Cam wanted Arthur to die, fighting a legal battle to then wait it out doesn’t really strike me as his style.”
The bell rang as the door opened, and I saw Simon enter in my peripherals.
I jumped out of the booth, and he sighed as he saw me. Oh no. That was a sad sigh. “Simon, is everything okay? I thought you were supposed to be with Art and the doc for the eval.”
“I’m glad I ran into you. Art isn’t lucid today.” He shook his head slowly.
My stomach sank. “How not lucid? Like it’s 1998? Or—”
“Or the psychologist was a claim jumper coming to take the Rose Rowan?” he offered, wincing.
“Oh.”
“Oh.” He nodded.
“But it took weeks to get in with that guy. What does this do to the case?” Cam was going to be devastated.
“He said he has one opening the week before court, so we’re taking it. But if the same thing happens, then Cam’s at a real disadvantage.”
He’d lose.
“Okay. Thanks. Did you want to come join us?” I motioned back to the table and saw Tillie drop off Cam’s food.
“No, I’m grabbing a shake to go. Thanks for the offer, though.”
We said our goodbyes, and I slid into the booth so I could get money from my purse.
“Everything okay?” Thea asked.
“Just stuff with Art’s case.” I took out a twenty and put it on the table. “I’d better go find Cam.”
“Okay, honey.”
“Wait,” Pat said as I slid toward the end of the booth. He took a deep breath, then another, and finally looked over at me. “Yesterday, at the Historical Society council meeting, some people were talking.”
Since there were only nine council members, that narrowed it down.
“They were all getting coffee. The meeting hadn’t started. And someone brought up Art and the case, and of course Xander was pretty mum about it. He’s never going to shit-talk Cam in front of other people. But one member may have suggested that it was impossible not to take into account the history and character of the person bringing the lawsuit.”
I stilled. “My dad?”
“No.” Pat emphatically shook his head. “But your dad agreed. And then said it’s not just the past that a judge would have to take into account in that hypothetical situation but the current decisions that person makes.”
My chest tightened.
“And after someone mentioned a certain fight that happened a few weeks ago on opening day…” Shit. “Well, another member asked—”
“Oh my God, Pat, spit it out. We all know who’s on the damned council,” Thea hissed.
Pat leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “Hall asked your dad if he’d hold it against Cam that he was dating you. Except he didn’t use the word…‘date.’”
I cringed. “He said no, right? Please tell me he said no.”
“He said that dating you didn’t exactly show the kind of sound judgment he’d need to win the case. Especially given that Cam is prone to violence around you.”
My blood turned to ice, then flash-boiled. “He said what?”
“Shh!” Pat looked to see that no one heard me. “They can’t know I told you. We have a what-happens-in-Vegas disclosure. I’ll lose my council seat.”
Cam was going to lose his case…because of me.
“I have to go.” I grabbed Cam’s burger and my shake, then paused at the foot of the table. “Thank you, Pat. Both of you.”
Rage and disbelief spun in my brain like a pinwheel, the emotions overlapping each other. I put Cam’s lunch on the passenger seat and my milkshake in the cupholder. Then I stared out the windshield with my hands on the steering wheel.
I could break up with Cam. That was obviously what Dad wanted. But maybe it was deeper than that. Maybe he honestly thought that being with me showed a lack of character. Why? Because I was his dead brother’s ex-girlfriend? Heck, that would have been the simplest label to slap on us.
The thought of losing Cam shredded my soul.
There was no chance he’d let me go, anyway. Or would he? If being with me meant seeing his dad on a ventilator, would he let me walk away? Would I even want him to? This was Art, not some hypothetical dilemma.
Cam loved me.
I’m not going anywhere. I’d promised him. I’d bullied my way into his heart, and now it was going to cost him the very thing he’d come back here for.
I yanked my phone out of my purse.
I held my breath as the three dots coursed across the screen.
I made it in ten, my 4Runner skidding to a halt in the newly packed gravel lot in front of the construction trailers.
I grabbed everything and skirted around the construction crew as they moved steel beams meant for the tunnels. I made it through the door to Cam’s trailer as a small group of workers came out, only a couple of whom I recognized, since I mostly worked with the foremen when it came to preservation.
Seeing Cam for the first time every day still took my breath away. He stood at his drafting table, turned so I could only see a portion of his profile, his shirtsleeves pushed up and his pants hanging on sculpted hips, but even with all that physical beauty, it was his focus that I found enthralling.
I loved him so much that I wasn’t sure there was enough space in this trailer—in the world—for it. How was I supposed to give him up? How could I live with myself if I didn’t? It had taken years and war and more than a little fate to get us here. This wasn’t even in the same realm as fair.
“You’ll need to move this beam here,” Cam told two of the foremen as he pointed to the blueprints. “These right here are the old load-bearing timbers, and we need to see if we can basically take the load off at this point and this one, so we can maintain the structural integrity of the tunnel without losing that historical piece.”
“And if we can’t keep that beam?” The foreman pointed to the original one, and my stomach clenched. There were so many sacrifices to be made, and every piece of history that went hurt my heart a little more.
“Safety first. But I know we can keep it, so don’t shortcut it for ease.” Cam looked up and paused when he saw me. “Everybody out.”
The foremen glanced between us and then did exactly as he ordered.
“Lunch?” I asked, lifting the takeout container with a trembling hand.
“What’s wrong?” He didn’t so much as glance toward the food.
How was I going to say this to him? How could I possibly explain the cost of loving me? I couldn’t imagine not having Cam, not after all these years we’d wasted. But I also couldn’t condemn Arthur to treatments he didn’t want.
“You eat, and I’ll talk.” I set the food down on the small table and motioned to one of the two folding chairs.
His eyes narrowed, but he sat. I slid the burger over to him, and he opened the takeout container. Only then did he look to see what I brought him.
“Bigg’s?” A smile ghosted his lips.
“Just the way you like it.” My heart pounded as I took the seat opposite his and moved the shake to his side, too. “The shake is the way I like it, though.”
“Willow, you’re killing me.” He swallowed, watching me with enough intensity to kick my heart rate even higher. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I know. Just…give me a second.” The words I knew had to be said filled my mouth, heavy on my tongue, and my stomach twisted—just like it had right before my car crashed—trying to keep them in.
“Are you pregnant?” he asked, leaning toward me with so much love and concern in his eyes that I almost wished I were. “Because if you are, don’t worry. I don’t know a lot about babies, but I’ll learn. And Rose seems to like me well enough, so there’s hope our kid would—”
“My father basically told Tim Hall that you’d lose your dad’s case if you’re dating me.” And I word-vomited all over the place. Awesome. My nails bit into my palms where they rested on my lap.
Cam blinked twice, then sat back in his chair. “So you’re not pregnant? Because I had the rest of that whole speech planned out. Well, not planned well, since I only had about ten minutes of my brain running amok, but still, it was pretty good.” The corner of his mouth lifted.
“No. I’m on birth control, remember?”
“Right. Yeah. Weird, that’s where my first thought went when you texted.” He lifted the burger and took a bite, groaning in appreciation as I gawked at him. After swallowing, he looked over the massive thing that would have taken me at least three meals to devour. “This is amazing. Thank you.”
The man took another bite.
“Cam, did you hear what I just said to you?” Since he was still chewing, I continued. “You’re going to lose your dad’s case because my dad is pissed that you’re dating me.”
He set the burger back in its box. “Pika, I’m going to lose my dad’s case because Judge Bradley doesn’t think I’m capable of being responsible for a puppy, let alone my father’s care. The fact that I love you is the icing on an already burned cake.”
It didn’t matter that he’d told me every day for the last few weeks that he loved me—it still hit me in the heart like it was the first time.
“I…I…” No matter how hard I tried, words wouldn’t form.
“I am, you know—capable of taking care of a puppy. I was thinking maybe one of those English bulldogs with all the wrinkles, but I figured I’d ask what you thought first.” He took a sip of the shake and grinned.
“What I thought?” Was he utterly and completely mad? I’d just dropped a bomb, and he was thinking about babies and puppies?
“I thought you’d appreciate input.” He shrugged. “After all, I figured we’d end up living together and eventually married—when you’re ready, of course, if that’s something you’d be interested in.” He waved his hand like it was all a given. Like we weren’t cursed. “So if you hate bulldogs, then we’d have to pick another breed. They’ve got great temperaments, though. Excellent with kids. When we have them.” He tilted his head. “If you want to have them, that is. The marriage thing might not be your style, either. I’m pretty much at your mercy with those.” He took another bite of his burger.
My eyes darted around the room, making sure I hadn’t stepped into the twilight zone. Once I was sure that this wasn’t some really messed-up dream, I pinned him with a stare. “So you don’t think we should break up so you have a shot at winning this case? Because that’s where I was kind of headed with it.” I finished that last part so slowly, it almost felt like a completely different sentence.
He paused mid-chew.
“I mean, that’s his best shot, right? If we break up? If my dad sees you’re putting Art’s interests before your own? That’s what makes the most sense.” Now the words came fast enough to set their own speed record.
Cam finished chewing and swallowed, abandoning the rest of the burger in its box. “Is that what you want? To…” He shook his head.
“No,” I admitted in a whisper. “But isn’t this where I’m supposed to leave for your own good? Take the martyrdom road to help your dad and then hope that later, once this is all settled, we can be together?”
“Come here.” He shifted and pushed his chair back from the table.
I stood, my knees and resolve shaking as I took the few steps that separated us to stand between his knees.
“Do you love me?” he asked, looking up at me from under dark lashes.
“More than anything in this world.” I ran my fingers through his hair, more for my comfort than his.
“Okay.” He took my hips and guided me until I sat across his thighs, facing him. “Then, this is where you do that. Where you love me. That’s all I need.”
I melted, deflated, lost all the tension in my muscles as my fear vanished, but the worry set in. “But what about your dad?”
He ran his knuckles down my cheek. “I can only tackle one problem at a time, Pika. My first priority is and will always be you. This, what we have, isn’t something I’m willing to risk.”
I leaned into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Then don’t.” His voice rumbled so low, I felt it in my palm where it lay against his chest.
“Will you hate me if you lose this case?” My darkest fear slipped out on a whisper.
“I will love you for the rest of my life, no matter what happens. None of this is your fault. Do you understand?”
I didn’t nod because I couldn’t lie. I was the reason my dad hated him. Being with Cam was only going to hurt him in the end. “I’m too selfish to let you go.”
“Thank God, because I’m not sure I’d know how to let you. I’m so damned glad you came to me instead of making the decision alone.” The relief in his eyes punched me in the stomach. I’d almost done it. Almost walked away.
“We’re partners, right?”
“Right.”
“You’re not going to go yell at my dad right now, are you? Because you’re not supposed to know, and if you tell him, then Pat loses his council seat…if they figure out he’s the one who told me, since they have an NDA about council meetings or something.”
Cam stiffened beneath me, and not in a good way.
“This happened at a council meeting?” he growled.
I nodded.
“You have to be kidding me.”
“Promise me you won’t go yell at my dad. You know it will just give him more ammunition against you, and I worked really hard to get Pat on your side.”
His jaw flexed, and he sucked in three breaths and let them out slowly before he relaxed. “You got Pat Lambert on my side?”
“I’m quite the politician.” I shrugged.
His lips lifted in what was almost a smile. “Okay. I’ll be good. I promise that I will not yell at your dad.”
“Thank you.” My forehead fell to rest against his. “I never wanted to complicate your life, Cam.”
He kissed me slowly, with a lazy thoroughness that had my hands gripping his shirt in fists before he was done.
“You’re not a complication in my life, Willow. You’re the reason.”