Page 15
From the kitchen, I can see Riley in the living room. He's leaning forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, staring into the candle flame with an expression I can't quite read. There's somethingvulnerable about him in this moment—something almost boyish beneath the hard exterior.
I wonder what he was like before the Army, before whatever brought him back to Cedar Falls. I wonder if he was always this guarded or if life taught him to be.
As I heat water on the gas stove, I find myself wanting to know his story—all of it, not just the carefully edited highlights he's shared so far. It's a dangerous curiosity. I came to Cedar Falls to solve the mystery of my father's past, not to get tangled up in the life of a brooding mechanic, no matter how intriguing he might be.
And yet…
When the coffee is ready, I carry two mugs back to the living room, setting his on the side table next to his chair.
"Black, right?" I ask, having noticed how he drank it at the shop.
He nods, looking surprised that I remembered. "Thanks."
I settle back on the sofa, cradling my own mug. "So, the historical society. You think they might have information about my father?"
"Depends how far back your family goes," he says. "Records aren't complete, especially from before the 1900s. Fire in 1912 destroyed a lot."
"But you said the Mitchells were a founding family?"
He nods, taking a sip of his coffee. "Mitchells, Carters, Abernathys. All came out west together, founded the town in 1873. Started the lumber mill. Built the first church."
"Were they friends? The founding families, I mean."
A shadow crosses Riley's face. "Some were. Others... complicated."
"Complicated how?"
He sets his mug down, considering his words carefully. "Feuds. Business rivalries. The usual small-town politics, but with more at stake because they owned everything."
"And the Carters and Mitchells? Were they friends or rivals?"
Riley's eyes meet mine, and there's something almost challenging in his gaze. "Depends who you ask. The official history says they were business partners. Other stories say they were bitter enemies."
"And what do you believe?"
He shrugs. "Truth's usually somewhere in the middle. Families are... complicated."
The way he says it makes me think he's not just talking about history anymore.
"Do you have family here?" I ask him.
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "A brother. Josh."
The name is offered reluctantly, like something pried loose.
"Are you close?" I press gently, sensing I'm approaching dangerous territory but unable to stop myself.
Riley's laugh is short and without humor. "No."
I should change the subject, back away from whatever painful thing I've stumbled upon. But instead, I find myself saying, "I have a sister. Emma. We haven't spoken in over a year."
His eyes lift to mine, surprised by this offering.
"What happened?" he asks, his voice softer than I've heard it before.
I take a deep breath. "Our father died. Left everything to me, nothing to her. She thinks I manipulated him somehow, turnedhim against her." I stare into my coffee. "But the truth is, she hadn't bothered to visit him in five years. Barely called. While I was there every weekend, taking him to doctor's appointments, making sure he ate properly."
"And now she blames you."
I wonder what he was like before the Army, before whatever brought him back to Cedar Falls. I wonder if he was always this guarded or if life taught him to be.
As I heat water on the gas stove, I find myself wanting to know his story—all of it, not just the carefully edited highlights he's shared so far. It's a dangerous curiosity. I came to Cedar Falls to solve the mystery of my father's past, not to get tangled up in the life of a brooding mechanic, no matter how intriguing he might be.
And yet…
When the coffee is ready, I carry two mugs back to the living room, setting his on the side table next to his chair.
"Black, right?" I ask, having noticed how he drank it at the shop.
He nods, looking surprised that I remembered. "Thanks."
I settle back on the sofa, cradling my own mug. "So, the historical society. You think they might have information about my father?"
"Depends how far back your family goes," he says. "Records aren't complete, especially from before the 1900s. Fire in 1912 destroyed a lot."
"But you said the Mitchells were a founding family?"
He nods, taking a sip of his coffee. "Mitchells, Carters, Abernathys. All came out west together, founded the town in 1873. Started the lumber mill. Built the first church."
"Were they friends? The founding families, I mean."
A shadow crosses Riley's face. "Some were. Others... complicated."
"Complicated how?"
He sets his mug down, considering his words carefully. "Feuds. Business rivalries. The usual small-town politics, but with more at stake because they owned everything."
"And the Carters and Mitchells? Were they friends or rivals?"
Riley's eyes meet mine, and there's something almost challenging in his gaze. "Depends who you ask. The official history says they were business partners. Other stories say they were bitter enemies."
"And what do you believe?"
He shrugs. "Truth's usually somewhere in the middle. Families are... complicated."
The way he says it makes me think he's not just talking about history anymore.
"Do you have family here?" I ask him.
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "A brother. Josh."
The name is offered reluctantly, like something pried loose.
"Are you close?" I press gently, sensing I'm approaching dangerous territory but unable to stop myself.
Riley's laugh is short and without humor. "No."
I should change the subject, back away from whatever painful thing I've stumbled upon. But instead, I find myself saying, "I have a sister. Emma. We haven't spoken in over a year."
His eyes lift to mine, surprised by this offering.
"What happened?" he asks, his voice softer than I've heard it before.
I take a deep breath. "Our father died. Left everything to me, nothing to her. She thinks I manipulated him somehow, turnedhim against her." I stare into my coffee. "But the truth is, she hadn't bothered to visit him in five years. Barely called. While I was there every weekend, taking him to doctor's appointments, making sure he ate properly."
"And now she blames you."