Page 11 of Promise Me Never

We had just bought our first home with our combined earnings, hers from ski patrol and mine from the ranch. We hadn’t even moved in yet. Neither of us went to college, we just immediately started working. Starting a family had been the next thing to check off the list.

The scent of pine hangs heavy in the damp air as I walk among the headstones, some worn nearly unrecognizable by time and others shiny and new. I drop down to my knees and set the flowers beside the flat stone.

* * *

Amy Elise Stone

February 18, 1995 - January 22, 2016

Baby Stone

* * *

Reading those words never gets easier, no matter how many times I trace my fingers over them. We didn’t even know she was pregnant when she died. They told me it was still early, eight or nine weeks. I often wondered if the accident could have been avoided had she known she was pregnant. But the answer is no; regardless of how much I bargained with God for an answer, for a reason, I always knew deep down that she would have strapped her skis on for the rest of the season.

She’d hate the thought of me leaving plastic litter, so I pull the wrapping off the flowers, making sure to gather all the trash and shove it in my jacket pockets. The knees of my blue jeans are already soaking up the dew from the grass, but I don’t move. I stay hunched over the gravestone, trying to figure out if I need to talk through yesterday with her.

It feels like a betrayal to tell her about my concern for another woman. But she’s the one person I could always tell anything to. I open my mouth to speak, but words won’t come out. My eyes burn with tears that I refuse to let fall. I can’t let myself cry again; the last time I did, it took a year to crawl out of the hole of depression. Instead I press my fingertips to my lips and then down to their names.

After one more scan of the ground to make sure there’s no trash anywhere, I stand and walk back to my truck. It’s still pretty early, so maybe I will make it to breakfast with the Harts. Jo always puts out a big spread on Saturday mornings with an open invite to any of the hands or help on the ranch. I rarely miss it, mostly because I don’t usually go out on Fridays.

The sight of Sam’s truck out front of the main house surprises me when I pull in. Sam and Colt don’t usually show up for breakfast when they’ve gone out the night before. I walk up the steps and pull open the carved solid oak front door. Laughter fills the air as I walk back into the kitchen.

The uneasy roiling in my stomach settles. Laughter equates happiness, and if something had happened while I was away, no one would be happy.

Eli is sitting at the table with Colt and Sam on either side of her. Neither of them looks as though they’re battling a hangover, so I guess they didn’t go out and party. Jo’s got bacon, sausage, pancakes, and biscuits and gravy all set up on her oversize kitchen island. I catch her eye with a nod of greeting just as her eagle-eyed gaze falls on the wet patches of denim covering my knees. Her lips turn down a fraction of an inch as she crosses the room and wraps me in a hug.

“Are you alright? Yesterday had to be difficult for you, all things considered.”

“The only one you need to worry about is Eli.” I keep my voice low. “How is she doing?”

“She seems fine. Hasn’t complained at all this morning and is eating a decent amount. I’ll be watching her like a hawk today though.” She runs her hand up and down my back soothingly. “Go ahead and fill up a plate.”

I follow her orders and pile my plate with everything she’s set out. Instead of sitting at the end with Eli and the guys, I choose the vacant spot next to Paul. Eli glances quickly at me but then away before I can say anything. A faint blush of rose colors her cheeks as if she’s embarrassed. I hope she didn’t wake up and realize I was in her room last night.

Paul strikes up a conversation about the materials we’ll need to order to fix up the fences in the high pasture. Before long I’m engrossed in eating and searching for the best deal on barbed wire because the guy Paul’s always used retired and sold his supply business over the winter. The new guy jacked prices way high and is generally a pain in the ass. By the time I finish breakfast, we’ve decided I’ll have to go a couple towns over to find what we need.

Five

ELI

* * *

“Luke, hold up,” I call out as he’s getting into his truck. “I need to go into town for a few things, can I come with you? I’m not supposed to drive while I’m taking this prescription.”

“Sure, get in.” He stands half in, half out of the cab and gestures for me to join him.

“Let me grab my purse real quick.” I turn and head back inside before he can reply.

He was odd at breakfast, spending all his time talking to Gramps. Anytime I looked over at them, his eyes were anywhere but on me. Then as I’d become engrossed in conversation with Sam and Colt, I’d forget he was even there.

As much as one could forget his presence, anyway. In the short time I’ve known him, more often than not, he seems to suck the oxygen out of the air. Or at least out of me.

I jog upstairs and down the hall to my room, grabbing my purse and a hair tie off the dresser. He seems to like driving with the windows down just as much as I do. I just need to have my hair pulled back.

His lips are pressed in a flat line when I open the door of his truck and climb inside. I give him a brief smile while I put my hair up in a ponytail. It does nothing to change his expression.

“Sorry. I hurried.”