Page 8 of And Forever (The Riders and Rings Duology #2)

CHARLOTTE

EVERS RIDGE, MONTANA — EARLY MAY

I lean against the doorframe, content to watch Winona’s chest rise and fall as she drifts off to sleep.

The soft glow of her starry sky night light bounces along the gentle curve of her chubby cheek.

I try to soak up the same peace that floats across her face when her lips pop open on a silent snore.

But I can’t hide in here. I can’t avoid what’s waiting in my kitchen the way I have for the last week.

As I pull the door closed and turn down the hallway, I’m truly surprised I’ve managed to keep things at bay for this long.

Making a left at the entrance to the hall, I take a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable.

Wilder stands at the marble island, hands splayed wide, a blank look on his face.

It’s so much worse than I’ve imagined when thinking of this moment for the last three years.

His eyes focus on me when I walk into the room.

The blue is familiar and unknown at the same time.

They have a shadow they never did before and creases in the corners.

It’s not the only change. His hair is cut close to his head now, the playful swoops and shagginess replaced by clean lines.

His body is filled out in places that were always lithe and lean before.

Shoulders and midsection are a little more rounded, but still defined.

The added muscle and bulk only make him look better.

The starving athlete has been replaced by a man who takes care of himself.

He looks strong and sturdy. Reliable, and not just for the weekly beating bronc riding used to give him.

“How old?—”

“Wild, I’m sorry?—”

Our voices overlap before we break off awkwardly.

Wilder winces, and my own smile tightens.

I pull out a barstool and sit on the edge before I gesture for him to start.

After having this conversation a million times in my head, I think I’m prepared for anything he has to say.

But he catches me off-guard when he leans on his forearms and gives me a heartbreaking smile.

“Is she really ours?” His eyes are glassy, hope sparking to life behind the unshed tears.

It takes my breath away, and I lose my voice.

I nod, gripping the island. A warm, broken exhale parts his lips before he licks them.

The flash of a tear catches in the light, rolling down a cheek, and he doesn’t attempt to swipe it away.

There’s a dreamy quality to the wonder that flickers through his quiet reckoning.

I make no move to comfort him, too uncertain if it would be welcome while he composes himself.

After a few minutes, he slides a hand across the space between us, and familiar calloused fingers curl around my wrist in a gentle touch.

I close my eyes when his skin connects with mine. “I’m so sorry, Charlie.”

“What?” My eyes fly open, eyebrows pinching together.

“You were going to apologize, but that’s my job.

” Wilder pulls his hand back, and I immediately miss the contact.

He stands straight, looking at the ceiling before speaking again.

“I owe you so many ‘I’m sorry’s.’ I’m inclined to start every conversation with one if I thought you’d be willing to hear them.

” He looks at me, sincere and serious. “I don’t even know her, but I know that little girl is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

So don’t you dare apologize for doing whatever you needed to do to have her turn out like this. ”

I blink. My mouth stutters with the need to reply, but I’m unable to form words. The mechanical movement only halts when Wilder’s smile begins to spread. It’s a reflex to narrow my eyes, finally closing my mouth to press my lips in a firm line.

“This isn’t exactly how I pictured this conversation going,” I admit. Wilder’s face softens before he rounds the island and pulls out the stool next to mine. “I thought you would be angry. Hurt.”

“Why?” he asks, propping an arm on the counter. I twist toward him, mirroring his position.

“I never told you about her. And then I left.” It might not be an entirely true statement, but it has weighed on me all these years.

“I even tried to call, but your phone was out of service.” Saying it aloud only eases a little of the ache, and shame clenches my gut so tightly I drop my eyes to my lap.

“Charlotte, look at me.” Wilder’s voice is soft.

A tender coaxing backed by patience as I take my time to lift my chin.

When I do, I’m met with a kind smile and a small head tilt of acknowledgment.

“Will I always wish I had had that time with the two of you? Yes. I lost that, and there is no way of getting it back. But I know why you did it. I know why you didn’t— couldn’t —tell me.

” He reaches a hand as though going to brush his fingers at my temple.

A gesture so like how we used to be, it causes me physical pain when he thinks better of it.

He has no idea how badly I’ve missed his touch.

His fingers retract into a fist and fall into his lap.

“I wasn’t there.” He clears his throat. “Even for myself, I wasn’t there. ”

“But I abandoned you.”

There it is. I can’t stop the tears that come with my confession.

Wilder didn’t have an easy childhood; parental neglect and abandonment could have made him a hard, untrusting man.

Instead, he became one of the most loving and considerate people I had ever known.

I didn’t meet this version of the man next to me now.

The last time I saw him, he was a shell of his former self, and admitting that I did something akin to what was so negative in his upbringing scares me.

“My mother left me to save herself from a bad situation, and I’ll spend the rest of my life hating her for being so selfish,” Wilder begins.

There’s no anger in his voice, just acceptance, even if it twists my gut to know he’s right.

“You left me to save our daughter from potentially experiencing the same childhood I had. That’s not selfish.

That’s brave as fuck, because if it hurt you half as much to walk away as it did to watch you leave, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. ”

A garbled sob escapes me. Releasing the guilt I’ve carried is overwhelming.

Wilder doesn’t hold back from touching me then, surging up from his seat to wrap strong arms around me.

I let myself be pressed against his chest, unsure if I deserve this absolution and understanding, but too relieved to push away.

Instead, we stand together in my kitchen, holding each other in the present and trying to let go of the past.

The ranch is still in darkness. Only the insects and Winona’s snores through the monitor offer a soundtrack to the time passing under the half moon.

I wrap the quilt tighter around me as I watch lights turn off in the employee bunkhouse down the road, my eyes drifting there more and more since my conversation with Wilder last night.

From the corner of my eye, at the gap between my place and the edge of my parents’ porch, there’s movement. A lone figure walks with their hands in their pockets, a lazy gait to their stride. Even with their head down and in the shadows, I’d recognize him anywhere.

“Hey, Wild,” I call. He barely startles at the sound of my voice, just slows a step and lifts his head before course-correcting and stopping at the bottom of my steps .

“Whatcha doing out here, Charlie?” Wilder leans against the banister, crossing his ankles.

“Just thinking,” I reply, nodding to the empty Adirondack chair next to me. Wilder clenches his jaw, then comes up the stairs to settle in beside me. His long body folds awkwardly into the unique design.

“These fucking chairs, I swear to God,” he grumbles under his breath, and I can’t help but giggle at the annoyed look on his face. He glares back. “Not everyone is pocket-sized or able to fold themselves in half to sit comfortably in these torture devices.”

“Quit bitching,” I snipe back. “You sound like an old man.”

“Yeah, well, some days more than others, I feel like one,” he admits, looking out into the night. It’s a loaded statement—one, I’m not sure I know how to navigate. But Wilder’s here, and I’ve carried the weight of so many questions for so long, I don’t want to lose the chance to ask.

“Are you… doing okay?” It’s a damn awful way to start, and if it were possible to collect those words back into my mouth, I’d scoop them up immediately. But they’re out there, and if I thought Wilder wouldn’t understand what I was asking, I was dead wrong.

“It’s been a lot.” His head hits the back of the chair before turning to meet my eyes. He gives a halfhearted smile. “Probably has been for you, too, I know that. And, damn, if I’m not sorry as hell for making things worse by being here.”

“I wouldn’t say worse ?—”

“Still,” he cuts me off gently. He takes a deep breath in, and I decide not to push.

I offer an encouraging smile. “It was selfish of me to take this job. But the truth is, when Curtis showed up at my door and presented me with it, I knew I wasn’t going to say no.

Because, just like the night I met you, I couldn’t walk away from the opportunity for more with you. ”

I have to swallow the breath that wants to stutter in my throat.

Instead, I shrink down a little more into my blanket, waiting.

Wilder stretches his hands along the arms of his chair, wrapping his nimble fingers over the edge.

He lets his eyes drop to follow his movement, then he leverages the position to hoist himself to his feet.

I lurch in my own chair toward him, but he only takes a step before turning around.

“I’ve accepted that it might make me a bastard to admit it, but I came here because I need you in my life again, Charlie.

” He sucks his teeth and I drop back in my spot, the familiar ache of longing flares to life in my chest. “I didn’t know how badly I needed you until I didn’t have you.

And now that I’ve met her, I know I need our little girl, too.

So, I’m going to do everything I can—and everything you want—to make this okay. Can I do that?”

I can only nod. Wilder gives a small smile in return.

“See you tomorrow?” he asks, taking the first step off the porch, pausing as he waits for my response.

“Yeah,” I agree. “I was going to take Win for a walk along the service road. We like the flowers that bloom there. Want to tag along?”

“I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go.”