Reckless Fortune, page 22
It was that breath she’d wanted. A small moment to reset.
She ate up every bite.
And when it was done, she felt like a different person. Bowie looked as if great weights had dropped from his shoulders. They looked at each other for a moment, as if to say, Can you believe all this?
Then they sat back and told everyone what had happened.
“We were very relaxed about the whole thing,” Bowie said after he finished the story. He lifted a brow in Autumn’s direction when she frowned at him. “We knew you fine people would come find us, sooner or later.”
“There’s not a whole lot of later to go around,” Levi replied, his gaze intense as he stood by the fire. “The snow comes early up there.”
“Early and often,” Lois agreed. Gruffly.
“Next time you take my daughter camping,” Hunter suggested, sounding crotchety and mean when Autumn could see he was still emotional, “maybe let someone know exactly where you’re going.”
“Noah knows the general location,” Bowie protested. Mildly. “I threatened to drop him there once.”
“True story,” Noah allowed. “But you might remember that you waved your arm at what was basically everything west of Mount Foraker.”
“Anyway, that would only have taken you to our original campsite,” Bowie said. “The storm knocked us around some.”
Quinn shook his head. “We’ve had a few of your friends running daily flights over the area after we pinpointed your last radio signal, but we couldn’t find anything.”
“Good thing I managed to MacGyver my plane back together, then,” Bowie said, and grinned as if it had all been a lark. “All’s well that ends well, I guess.”
And he sounded so cheery and dismissive in the face of so many frowns aimed his way that it finally dawned on Autumn how dangerous it had all been. And what a good pilot Bowie really was to keep the two of them from dying when they’d crashed the first time. Not to mention, flying them all the way back home in a vessel that likely shouldn’t have been in the air.
But Autumn didn’t really want to dwell on all the ways they could have died. She found she was enjoying not being dead.
“I really did think you’d both be dirtier,” Jade said at one point. She doubled down when everyone stopped and looked at her. “What? You think a plane crash in the mountains and then foraging about in the wilderness to survive, you don’t think clean, do you?”
“My first thought was the Alaska State Troopers or the FAA,” Bowie replied in that lazy way of his. “Not hygiene.”
“That new doctor from down in Hopeless is coming up tonight or tomorrow to give you two a checkup,” Mia Saskin told them, but she was looking mostly at Bowie. “Don’t argue.”
“Also it’s still summer.” Autumn looked down at the clothes she’d worn and reworn the whole month they’d been gone. “We washed every day and washed out our clothes. It would have been different if it was winter.”
Everyone went a little quiet at that, because a whole lot of things would have been different if it was winter. Including this happy little reunion.
“I hope this means you’re ready to go home now,” Willa said then, sounding as bossy as she usually did only during Christmas, when she became a decorating monster. “I think it’s time. Obviously the Alaska reality show thing isn’t really working out.”
“Less of a reality show,” Quinn interjected. He folded his arms as he stood behind the chair Violet was sitting in. “More a promotional vehicle. Officially speaking.”
Bowie let out a long-suffering sort of sigh that made his brother grin.
“I think we can count this as an epic disaster,” Jade said, clearly agreeing with Willa. “Everything will be better when you’re back home where you belong, Autumn.”
“You’ve lived in Montana your entire life and never came this close to death,” said Sunny, with a great deal of authority for someone who was five years younger than Autumn. “We can help you pack.”
And then everyone in the whole of the Mine seemed to look at Autumn expectantly. Except for Bowie, who was suddenly making a study of his jeans.
“I don’t want to go home,” Autumn said, calmly enough.
Her sisters looked baffled. Donna and her father exchanged a look she couldn’t read. Most of the actual citizens of Lost Lake made a lot of noises that sounded like damn right, especially Piper.
Bowie kept up his contemplation of his jeans. But he smiled.
And it seemed to warm her up like a hit of sunlight.
“What are you talking about?” Sunny was demanding. “You love being home. You’re always home.”
Willa was nodding vigorously. “No one understands why you ran away to Alaska in the first place.”
“Maybe it was an experiment.” Jade sounded almost philosophical. As if she was sitting there on the arm of the sofa musing, unbidden, about Autumn’s life. When Autumn was still adjusting to having gotten it back. “A learning experience, sure. But there’s no need to drag this out.”
All Autumn could think about was the month she’d just lived through. And the month before that, really. All the bushcraft things she’d trotted out because she’d wanted to win a contest, and was glad she had, because she’d had to use most of them after the crash.
Sitting here on this couch, feeling sleepy after gorging herself on Mia Saskin’s chili, it occurred to her that she hadn’t thought once about content for social media the entire time she and Bowie had been at the crash site. She was finding it difficult to imagine ever thinking about it again, in truth.
Out there in the canyon, she’d just been happy that she knew how to do practical things that made it more likely they might survive. Now that was over and they were safe, she could admit that she’d been terrified. If only to herself. That it had been less logic and determination and skill every day, and a lot more panic.
Luckily, panic didn’t freeze her in place. It never had. Panic made her capable. Focused.
Panic was why she’d tried to fill her mother’s shoes when she was still a baby herself. It was why she’d scouted out that cave and had already been implementing her plans on how to winterize. It was all the jerky she’d made so they could eat it when the weather turned cold, or carry it with them when they tried to hike out of that canyon.
Because panic was how she did the things that she hoped might forestall disaster. Or, at the very least, give her a fighting chance.
And she knew her sisters loved her. But she also knew they panicked, too. They didn’t even see the ways they treated Autumn like a parent, not a sister. That was probably her fault for acting like a parent all this time, but now they didn’t see her as an independent person. Not really. She was theirs and she belonged where they’d left her.
Autumn understood. She felt that way about her father.
But she wasn’t the same person she’d been when she’d left Montana.
“No one understands why you did this anyway,” Sunny said reproachfully.
As if Autumn had “done this” at Sunny.
Autumn’s belly was full of moose chili and perfect bread. Her heart was overflowing. There was an ache there, too, and she figured that when all the adrenaline of having made it back here wore off, she had a good long cry waiting for her. But at the moment, she wasn’t sure she’d ever been better.
Or maybe it was just that nearly dying made a person understand how to live. At last.
“You,” she said.
Sunny looked startled. “Me?”
“You,” Autumn said again. She looked at her other sisters. “And you two, as well. All three of you. That’s why I’m here.”
“I thought it was for a tropical island,” Bowie said from beside her.
Autumn ignored him. She kept her gaze on her sisters. “I love you all,” she told them, and she meant it. “You know I do. But sometimes, you’re impossible.”
“Hey!” Jade made the loudest sound of protest, though her other sisters joined in.
And it did occur to Autumn that maybe she should have waited until it was only their family unit for this, but she hadn’t. And she didn’t feel as guilty about that as she should have. Her trouble was, she was too comfortable here. It really did feel like a homecoming, to come back to this place, these people, that she’d last seen at Solstice. She didn’t even question why Bowie had come to this end of the lake instead of down near where he lived, because she was pretty sure she knew.
Setting them down near people gave them a better chance of surviving if things had gone wrong. But they’d lived, so this was a celebration. And it meant so much to her that all of these people were here. Because all of them had worried. All of them cared.
It made her feel almost as warm inside as Grand Mia’s food.
Maybe that was why she was able to face her sisters so calmly.
“I spent a lot of time caring for Mom before she died,” she said quietly. “And she told me a lot of things. About how she’d lived and how she hoped we would. And what she would have done with her life if she’d had more time. But mostly, she talked about happiness. She hoped we’d all be happy, her girls, because she loved us. But she wasn’t worried about us. She was worried about Dad.”
She could see her father didn’t like being the center of attention, because his jaw went granite in that way it did when he was uncomfortable, and he shifted his weight where he stood. But Donna was beside him and she held his hand, the way, Autumn knew, she always would. She had been loyal to Hunter and the McCall family for a long time now, though she got precious little credit for it.
“Mom wanted Dad to move on,” Autumn told her sisters, and her voice was still quiet, but she’d gotten serious now. “She would not have been a fan of those years before Donna.”
All of her sisters looked thunderstruck. But Hunter nodded. “That’s a fact. Your mother always said I had no business getting into the whiskey. Can’t hold it. Makes me mean. She would’ve been dearly disappointed that I couldn’t hold it together after she passed.” He looked at Donna. Then Autumn. “I’m not proud of it.”
“Then Donna came into our lives and let Dad be Dad again,” Autumn said, smiling at him because it was okay. She understood. “He was happy. Donna makes him happy. She’s doing it right now.”
Donna flushed now that it was her turn in the spotlight. “Your dad is a good man, girls. Really he is.”
Autumn stood up then, so she could face each of her sisters in turn. And because she needed them to really, truly hear her. “Mom would have loved Donna,” she told them fiercely. “She’s kind. Patient. Unbelievably generous. And most of all, she loves Dad and all of us.”
Hunter looked down at his wife, and it was so obvious to Autumn that he was proud of her. He adored her. And that didn’t take away from how he’d felt about their mother. And probably still felt about her. If anything, she thought he was capable of loving Donna so well because of their mother.
“Mom would have loved all of this so much that she would have sold her jewelry by hand, herself, if she thought it would help,” Autumn continued.
She saw the way her father reacted to that. And how her sisters began to frown.
So she kept going. “I know you think about that jewelry from time to time. Jade, you wanted to get it out last Christmas. And I think we can say that Mom did sell that jewelry. Because she would have wanted Dad’s wedding to someone as perfect for him as Donna to be perfect. That’s who she was.”
“Wait,” Willa said. “Are you saying—”
Autumn cut her off. “I decided that I needed to buy that jewelry back, before any of you found out it was missing, because I knew—” She had to raise her voice over her sister’s protests. “I knew that if you found out about it, you’d blame Donna. Who you already call your wicked stepmother, to her face, when as far as I can tell, she’s a freaking saint.”
“Okay, now,” Donna said, bright red but still sounding as calm as ever. “That’s a bit too far. It doesn’t take a saint to love all of you. That’s just common sense.”
“You’re making my argument for me,” Autumn said. She pointed a finger at each of her sisters in turn. “So that’s why I’m here. To win the prize money, so I can buy the jewelry back. And before you argue with me, ask yourselves, Would Autumn really do something so extreme if she didn’t mean it? You know I wouldn’t. I’m never extreme.”
“You’re making up for it,” Jade muttered.
“I couldn’t ask any of you for help, could I? It never even crossed my mind to try, and I know that’s my fault.” Autumn blew out a breath. “I took on too much, too young, and I never put it back down.”
All three of her sisters were looking at her then with the same wide eyes, and Autumn knew she was doing the right thing here. But she would have preferred it if she didn’t feel like she was kicking them while she did it.
“I don’t think that’s your fault,” Hunter said then, sounding grave. “Pretty clear that it’s mine. Just like the jewelry.”
“I’m going to get it back,” Autumn promised him.
“There’s no need for that,” Donna said gently. She looked up at Hunter, then smiled a little sheepishly. “I bought it back after you left in June and snuck it right back where it belonged in the ranch house, hoping none of you would ever know it had been missing.”
Now it was Autumn’s turn to stare.
“This is never something you should have worried about, Autumn,” Donna said in her bighearted way. “I hate to think that you put yourself through this ordeal because of me. It seems to me that there’s been enough of that in your life.”
And it was only because Autumn already felt too much that she wasn’t knocked over by this revelation. All she could do was whisper her stepmother’s name.
“I was handling this,” Hunter told his wife. “I hate to think of you spending your money on my foolishness. I’ll pay you back.”
But Donna only squeezed his hand. “It’s our money. It doesn’t need paying back.”
For a moment, they were all quiet—or winded.
Autumn thought, this.
This was what she wanted.
“I’m done acting like your mother,” she told her sisters softly. “Because I’m not her. Nobody could be her.”
“Autumn,” Sunny began.
Autumn held up a hand. “I’d like to be a big sister, for once. Just a big sister. We have a marvelous stepmother. And Dad is right here. Maybe, finally, we can just be us, you guys. The family we’ve made.”
Hers were not the only damp eyes, she noticed. But she held her breath, because she was sure her sisters would explode . . .
And they did, but not the way she’d imagined. Instead, there was a sudden torrent of apologies and recriminations, but all of them swallowed up in a big, McCall family group hug that went on and on until all of them were laughing and sniffling at the same time.
When it broke up, and everyone was surreptitiously wiping at their eyes, she found Bowie watching her from where he lounged on the couch with a considering light in those Montana night eyes of his.
Looking at him made her feel like she was home.
And for the moment, she chose not to focus on how dangerous that was.
“And here I had you down as a reality star for the ages,” he drawled.
“I would be a terrible reality show contestant,” she told him. “Think about it. There would be machinations and allies and all that jockeying for position and there I’d be, outraged that my lists and plans were ignored. I’d be sent home before the first episode was done.”
And for some reason, those words seemed to spin out between them, like some kind of confession.
But she was caught up by her sisters again, and the next time she looked back toward the couch, Bowie was gone.
She told herself that wasn’t an omen.
But it was August already. And she didn’t need to win this contest any longer. She’d survived long enough to come home and see all the people she loved in one place. What more could one person ask for?
Everything, a voice inside her whispered. You should ask for everything.
But she already had. She’d told Bowie that she loved him.
Autumn had to face the fact that this was his answer.
Just the way he’d told her it would be, from the start.
Seventeen
Bowie didn’t get drunk. That wasn’t his style.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared to nurse his whiskey right and proper, like a man should when he cheated death.
He’d done it a lot, so he should know.
Then again, this wasn’t anything like the other times. Everything about today felt different. Because everything was threaded through with Autumn, and if this separation he was enduring right now—when he knew she was right here in the same building—was any indication of how it was going to be, well.
Maybe he really should get drunk.
“Time was, you used to enjoy your death-defying stunts more,” Noah observed from beside him.
“What makes you think I’m not enjoying myself?” Bowie asked. “I’m alive and well. I have a whiskey in my hand at my favorite bar, surrounded by all the friends and family a man could want. I’m basically the physical embodiment of enjoyment.”
Noah took a pull from his beer. And laughed. “That’s you. The embodiment of something.”
Bowie should probably go home. It turned out a person couldn’t crash a plane in the state of Alaska without a hassle, so he had that waiting for him. If he was smart, he’d get a good night’s sleep in a proper bed before attempting to deal with the numerous authorities who were interested in all the details—and not, probably, because they wanted to compliment him on flying that plane out of what would surely have been his and Autumn’s certain death.
