“Not at first. If I were younger and met Ethan, then I’d probably still do it because it’s him.”
“So why use your age as an excuse? Forty isn’t old, Colt. Is that really your hang-up?”
I knew Gunner would be direct with me, and that’s why I wanted to talk to him before I went to Jesse.
“I think…it’s a lot. I love him. I really do, and I want to make a life, but this is what I know. I love this life. Chance and Snow Creek are like family. What if I leave and it’s no good anymore? What if I can’t come…home?”
Because that’s my biggest fear. I know I’ll have my uncle until he’s gone, and this town is the rest of my family. If I walk, will they welcome me back? Will I miss my Saturday morning painting at the library? What about Chris at the fly shop? Could I be as content as I was before if this all goes to shit?
“Colt,” Gunner says gently. “Nobody here is gonna turn their back on you. Ever. I know this, and I’m shocked to hear that you think that. Chance loves you.” He studies me for a beat in that way he does. Like he can read your mind. “Is this about your mom?”
Yep. He read my mind.
I shrug. Not willing to voice that thought. I’m a grown man and hesitant to leave the town where I buried my mom. Leaving feels so final, even though she’s been gone for decades. It’s embarrassing.
“I didn’t know her, but I bet she’d tell you to follow your heart. I know if I died, I wouldn’t want someone I love growing roots next to me out of a weird duty. She’s here.” He taps his chest over his heart. “You’re not leaving her. She’s been with you this whole time.”
We sit in silence as I consider this and feel more foolish by the moment. Gunner is right. They won’t turn their backs on me, and shouldn’t I be happier to be closer to Uncle Albert? The only living blood relative I have?
“I’m so dumb.”
“You’re not. You’re sensitive and kind, Colt. Wonderful qualities to have in this sometimes shitty world we live in.”He drains his beer and stands. “Now I’m kicking you out to go talk to Jesse and then home to tell Ethan you’re doing it.”
“Bossy.”
“No, I’m just a friend who knows you need a kick in the ass to get moving sometimes. Now get.”
With a smile, I drain my beer and head to the main house to find Jesse.
“Ethan?”
The apartment is dark, but soft music sounds from the living room, and his voice calls out. “Living room.”
I round the corner to find Ethan sitting on the sofa. His laptop is open on the coffee table, but my gaze catches something familiar, and my breath catches.
“Where did you get that?” Obviously, from a local, but I need to knowhowhe got it.
“Can I tell you a story and start from the top before I answer? Please?”
With a nod, I sit, and he turns the laptop toward me.
“I spent most of today at the Laughing Fork. They love you here, and I want you to listen to what they have to say.”
Ethan hits play on his laptop, and I watch person after person deliver messages to me. Cathy from the Laughing Fork. Bud from the library. Chris from the fly shop. It goes on and on, everyone cheering me on, and I haven’t even left yet.
Ethan pauses the video to check in with me.
“This part might be hard, but it answers your question about how I got the bear. You good?”
“Yeah. When did you have time to do this?”
His lips part, ready for an answer.
“I made time. It’s important.” He smiles and squeezes myhand before hitting play again, and the woman from the local urgent care fills the screen. Well, she’s retired now, but I know her from paint days, and of course, because she was one of the first people to tuck me under her wing when Mom died. I remember she brought a lot of casseroles to the house until Uncle Albert learned how to feed a kid on the regular.
“Colt, your wonderful boyfriend here has asked me to say a few things about what you mean to me and Chance.” She holds up the stuffed bear I remember watching my mom sew when I was about eight years old. She sewed it and stuffed it by hand to give to a little girl who’d lost everything in a house fire. I remember also asking my mom why we didn’t just go buy a bear.
“Your mom gave this bear to my granddaughter when she was just a wee thing and lost her favorite bear in a house fire. She told me she made it with love and hoped it comforted my granddaughter.” That’s exactly what she told me, too. A handmade gift with love would be more comforting. Or something like that. “Those words sound very canned, but your mom was always warm and genuine, Colt. You were the light of her life, and I know she’d be proud of you. Chance is proud of you.” My eyes blink away wetness. “When I stopped by the Laughing Fork today and heard what was happening, I went back home to get this bear. My granddaughter outgrew it, and I couldn’t stand just giving it away. Now I don’t have to. It’s yours, and it comes with likely all the good wishes from every person in this town, Colt. Go find happiness and come back to tell us about it when you can.”
