Her Hidden Hope

“Of course.” Addie had always known that Evan had been distracted the day of his accident because of her. Staying beside him, supporting him—she hadn’t wanted to be anywhere else. And when she’d had to go home to Michigan while Evan was still recovering and in shock...that had ripped a gaping hole in her chest.

The man in front of her now made that time and those memories seem as if they’d only existed in her imagination. His pants and shoe hid the results of the amputation that had taken his foot and lower portion of his leg so well that if she hadn’t been present after his accident, she would never know a prosthesis hid beneath.

But of course it had all happened.

Including the aftermath. Their actions and his accident had contributed to a chain of events that Addie would never have imagined possible.

“And then you had to go home.” Questions brimmed in his eyes, a shade of brown that reminded her of her favorite coconut latte.

“Yes, I did.” And things had spiraled out of control so quickly. Her parents had found out what she and Evan had been up to, and they’d cut off their relationship. Not with a trimmer, but with a sharp shovel, chopping straight at the root.

“But look at you now.” She motioned to him. “All grown up and put together. Successful from what I hear.” Just a few minutes in Evan’s presence and she could sense his quiet self-assurance. He seemed at peace with himself in a way that Addie had been striving for since that time.

Reinstating the B & B was part of her attempt to reclaim her confidence, her life. To start over and leave the sins of her past behind. And yet one had just walked into the same store as her as a blatant reminder.

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” The tops of Evan’s ears pinked endearingly. “So you and the little guy are on your own?” He nodded to Sawyer, who’d copped a seat on the floor. There the man went, changing the topic away from himself. He’d been like that as a teen too. Lots of guys liked to talk about themselves, but Evan had always focused on her, asking her a million questions about her childhood, the Filipino culture that made up her mom’s side of the family, what her dreams were. Where she’d live if she could choose anywhere.

Those last two answers had been running the B & B and this town.

Addie’s dreams might finally be waking up from a deep sleep, but she still had a long haul to actually make them feasible.

“Yep. Sawyer and I are a mom-and-son-superhero-crime-fighting duo.” She paused. “But without the crime-fighting or superhero part.” Her attempt at humor fell flat, ripping open the curtain into her personal torment.

“That has to be hard. I’m sorry, Addie.” She could tell Evan was exactly that by the worried pucker that wedged between his eyebrows and the downward slope of his mouth.

She was sorry too. Sorry for the onslaught of painful, gut-wrenching memories that were choking her during this supposedly small talk conversation. Sorry for the mistakes she’d made that had led up to this moment. Sorry for what Evan didn’t know and how it would most definitely hurt him.

“It’s certainly not what I’d dreamed about or planned for.” She acknowledged Evan’s sympathy and shrugged as if her bad choices didn’t matter, but of course they did. Adding a divorce to her What was I thinking? tally was embarrassing and excruciating. She should never have married Rex in the first place. He’d been a way to escape her parents, and the attempt had bombed, big-time. When she’d found out she was pregnant, their marriage had been over and done in a flash. Rex hadn’t had any interest in becoming a father, or really, in her. “Sometimes life doesn’t go like we expect it to.” That was the understatement of the century.

“Mommy.” Sawyer tugged on her leg. “We go.”

“You’re right, buddy. We do need to go.”

The fact that Sawyer was still in the aisle with her was shocking. Asking any two-year-old boy—especially this one—to sit still or remain in one place for any amount of time was like asking a puppy not to have an accident on the carpet.

Addie’s hands were full with a smattering of items Sawyer had “gifted” to her. She quickly placed them back in the correct spots. No need to destroy Herbert’s while they were there. She was desperate for the people in this town to support her business and send referrals her way, not view her as incompetent.

“It was...good to see you, Evan.” More lies. It was simply painful to see him. When a person had buried something for as long as she had, coming into contact with the initiating factor was like ramming repeatedly into a stone wall at top speeds.

“You too.”

Addie scooped up Sawyer, retrieved her cart and headed for the checkout, her breathing shallow, her heart shredded into a thousand pieces of regret.

How many times had she begged a God she’d barely believed existed for an opportunity to share the truth with Evan? More than she could count. But what was she supposed to do? Blurt everything out in a hardware store? She didn’t see that going well. And while Addie would happily shove off her shame and guilt and be free from the secrets, she couldn’t get sidetracked either.

The B & B would require all of her energy and attention in the next couple of weeks. She could not fail. Her and Sawyer’s livelihood depended on its success. So the fact that Evan Hawke had just walked back into her life was the biggest, most confusing wrench she could have imagined.

And she’d never been very good with mechanics.

Chapter Two

“Did Misty have the baby?” Evan answered his phone over the hands-free device in his Subaru Forester and parked in exactly the same spot outside of Herbert’s Hardware that he’d been in yesterday. The shock of seeing Addie must have messed with his logic, because after she’d taken off with Sawyer, he’d left too. With only half of the supplies he’d needed.

Addie had always been able to fry his mind like that eighties commercial of an egg depicting a brain on drugs. He just hadn’t expected that she’d have the same effect on him after so much time.

“Nope. No signs of labor either.” Christopher’s frustration was evident. Evan’s partner and friend was a trauma therapist who loved to adventure as much as he did. When they took groups out, Christopher was the counselor. The one who kept everyone from losing their minds. Who helped and nudged and listened. Christopher and his wife were due to have a baby three days ago, which was the reason the two of them had scheduled time off. They’d planned around her due date, not sure how else to handle things so that Christopher would most definitely be home when the baby arrived. But Evan was starting to realize babies didn’t go according to schedule.

“We may need to extend our break,” Christopher continued.

“Okay.” Evan did the numbers. “We left ourselves some wiggle room before our first trip. We’ve got time. Don’t stress. We’ll figure things out. And if I have to take a group without you, that’s okay too. I’ve listened in enough over the years. I could probably swing it.” Not that he’d be anywhere near as good as Christopher. But Evan had been through his own trauma losing his leg. He knew the ins and outs of a shock like that. The ways it choked and stifled. The stark fear that followed up like a used-car salesman.

“Thanks, man. I’ll keep you updated when we know more.”

The two signed off.

Surprisingly, work at Evan’s mom’s house was going quickly. Unusual for a home project. Emotionally, it was a struggle for him to be inside those walls without his mom’s chatter or laughter, so maybe that was why he was hurrying through the projects. Mom had developed heart failure after years of emphysema, and things had moved swiftly at the end, taking her down far before any of them had expected it to. They’d thought there was time, but like Addie had said yesterday, life didn’t always go as planned.

Evan maneuvered out of the vehicle, this time leaving Belay in the backseat. The dog had FOMO, big-time, so she gave a pout and whine to let him know about her discontent before he shut the door. Evan shook his head and grinned. He’d left the windows cracked so she’d have plenty of air. The weather had warmed today, and it was supposed to reach sixty-six. Mud season was so sporadic in the mountains. Snowing one second, sun heating the ground the next.

After grabbing what he needed, Evan checked out and then loaded supplies into the back of his vehicle. He rolled down the windows as they drove through town, and Belay traveled from one side of the backseat to the other every few seconds to check things out. When he reached the turn that would take him back to Mom’s house, he paused, stuck in the middle of the road as curiosity over Addie gripped him.

How was the remodel going? Was she buried under a mountain of projects or flying through them?

Ever since Addie had returned to Michigan and her parents at the end of that summer, Evan had wondered about where she’d ended up—about how her life had turned out. They’d kept up communication for about a week, texting or calling each other, but after that, her parents had effectively ended things between them. Addie had sent him a message about how her parents wanted her to concentrate on school, not on him. And that they needed to take a break from talking to each other.

Evan had understood at the time. He’d been a mess anyway, so focusing on getting better was a good idea for him. But when he’d tried to contact Addie in the months after that, just as a friend, just to check in, her number had no longer been in service.

Before Addie had left Colorado—and before his accident—they’d been inseparable. He’d worked some, and so had she, but they’d also played. They’d gone to the hot springs. Kayaked. Spent time swimming and laying out at the pool. She’d watched him compete in the rodeo. Evan often looked back on that time with a sharp ache radiating through him. He’d definitely taken for granted how simple and carefree his life had been before his amputation. All of that had changed the morning of his accident—when Addie had told him she was afraid she might be pregnant. Days later, while he was still in the hospital, she’d said it had been a false alarm—Thank You, God. Evan had plenty of regrets about the behavior that had gotten them to that point. He should have known so much better. Mom had raised him to think before he acted. But all of that was in the past, and he couldn’t go back and change any of it now. God’s grace didn’t pick and choose what it covered.

A horn sounded behind him. Evan gave an apologetic wave before quickly moving to the side to let the car pass.

Go home. You know better than to get involved.

Evan was a wanderer. He didn’t commit, didn’t stay in one place too long, didn’t get attached. Jace had been younger, so maybe he didn’t remember as clearly or painfully the years upon years their dad had chosen alcohol over them. But Evan had learned the lessons imparted by their old man well. Most fathers taught their kids how to fish or do math or ride a bike. Theirs had taught Evan to detach.

He pressed on the gas, and like a disobedient child, his vehicle turned toward Little Red Hen Bed & Breakfast. Everything in Evan said it wasn’t a smart decision, but nothing in him listened. Curiosity won with minimal effort.

The B & B was located on the edge of town—a few blocks west of Main Street—nestled in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. It had been built when the town was first founded, so it had historical charm that anything new couldn’t compete with. Evan hoped, for Addie’s sake and that of her little boy, that she could get the place functioning again. Turn a profit. Make a life for the two of them.

Probably exactly what she hoped for too.

He drove by slowly, relieved when she wasn’t outside. The house’s paint wasn’t chipping, but it had seen better days. He heard faint crying and pressed on the brake. Nothing. He must have imagined it.

Waaaaaahaaa. There it came again.

Belay scooted across the backseat and shoved half her body out the window to investigate.

“What is it, girl? Did you hear that too?”

Three barks answered. Evan was pretty sure that was a yes in dog speak.

He eased into the drive, now even more certain that the wailing continued. For all he knew, Sawyer was being disciplined and didn’t like it, and Evan would look nosy and intrusive rolling in to interrupt. But he couldn’t ignore the concern that had skyrocketed at that sound. And Belay was on high alert too, confirming his intuition. He parked, then let Belay out, and the two of them followed the crying to the side of the house. The porch wrapped around the left, and Evan walked that way, Belay nestled against his leg as was her habit.

Sawyer’s face, bright red and sopped with tears, appeared through the slats of the porch railing. Trapped.

“Hey, buddy. Did you get stuck?” Evan kept his voice calm, reassuring, while assessing the situation. Where was Addie? And how had the boy wedged his head through the spindles in the first place? “Remember me? We saw each other yesterday at the hardware store. You had some cool tape in your hand.” Bue tape according to the tot.

Sawyer didn’t acknowledge his comment or him, but he did stop screaming. “Doggie.” He watched Belay, who had settled herself just in front of the boy, below the porch on the ground. If she’d gone around to be next to him, Sawyer would have had to strain his neck to see her. Smart girl.

“My dog’s name is Belay. She’s a golden retriever.” Evan forked over some other random tidbits about Belay to keep Sawyer distracted as he sidled up to the kid and checked out the situation. Based on the redness behind his ears, he’d already tried backing himself out numerous times. “Where’s your mom, Sawyer?”

New tears formed. “Mommy.” His lips wobbled. “I want Mommy.” The last word was barely decipherable, it came out as such a wail.

Evan could kick himself. That had been a stupid thing for him to say. “We’re going to find her in just a second. Right after I get you out of here.” He had some supplies in the back of his vehicle. Would any of those help? “I’ll be right back. I’m going—”

“No-no-no.” Sawyer’s stark fear whapped Evan in the chest. Poor kid was afraid Evan was abandoning him.

“I’m not leaving you, Sawyer. I’m going to come up there right next to you. I’m just going to take the stairs.” Evan had already started moving while he was talking. He hurried over to the steps, then around to the portion of the porch where Sawyer was trapped. “See? I’m right here.” He dropped to the wooden slats next to the boy. “Let’s see what we can figure out.” He tried moving Sawyer’s head this way and that, tilting. Then he pushed and pulled on the wooden spindles to create extra space, but they didn’t give. He could saw one spindle off, get him out that way.

Sawyer pushed back with his hands and head, then cried out.

“Don’t do that, squirt. Just stay still. We’ll figure something out. You’re okay for now. I know it doesn’t feel good, but you’re safe. I’m going to get you out of there.” Somehow.

Belay began barking, spinning in circles and generally causing a ruckus. After a few antics, she’d settle, then go at it again. Sawyer became completely captivated by the dog, and his sniffling slowed. He reached for Belay, turning his shoulder and slipping one hand through the spindle to get to her.

“Good girl, Belay!” Evan maneuvered to standing and hurried to the steps while Sawyer was distracted. In no time at all, he was back on the ground in front of the boy. Sawyer had slid his arm back inside the spindle, but if he could do it once...surely he could do it again. “Reach for Belay. She wants you to pet her. She loves it right behind the ears.” Evan helped Sawyer glide his hand back through, then his shoulder, then turned him so that his hip and leg and the rest of his body could follow. Sure enough, the boy slipped right between the spindles and into Evan’s arms. He was so relieved that he held on to him for a second, and in response, Sawyer laid his cheek against Evan’s chest and gave a hefty shudder. It was the best bit of gratitude Evan had ever experienced—no words needed.

Just as fast, Sawyer squirmed to be let down. “Doggie.”

Evan placed him on the ground, and Belay licked the tears from his face, making him giggle. For the kid, it was as if the whole fiasco had never happened. For Evan, not so much. How long had Sawyer been stuck? And where was Addie? Was she okay? What if she was injured inside the house somewhere?

“Let’s go find your mom.” Evan took a few steps, but the boy didn’t leave the dog. “Belay, heel.” She obeyed, which in turn had Sawyer trucking after her. At the front door, Evan considered leaving Belay outside, but she was doing such a good job of doting on Sawyer that he let it slide. Given the circumstances, he doubted Addie would care about a little dog hair.

The door had been left open, and Evan called out as the three of them tromped inside.

So much for not getting involved.

Addie thought she heard the faint shout of her name, but she had to be imagining things, because the front door to the B & B was locked up tight and no one was in the house but Sawyer. She’d stationed him in front of the TV with his favorite movie no less than fifteen minutes ago, a snack and his sippy cup within reach.

Mother of the year. But she hadn’t wanted him in this nasty bathroom with her while she steam cleaned the tile and grout, hoping that somehow it would be enough to make the bathroom usable again. She didn’t have the money to pay for it to be redone. And the upstairs bedrooms were still in disarray from the last owner, so she didn’t want to park him in one of those either.

Thankfully the interim owner of the B & B had kept most of the furniture from when Tito Benji and Tita Alice had been in full operation, because Addie would never be able to furnish the place herself, and she liked the vintage pieces. She planned to move things around and make use of everything.

Her name sounded again, more clearly this time. She peeked out the window. It wasn’t coming from outside. Addie hurried out of the bathroom that connected to the Moose Room and removed the mask that covered her mouth and nose.

“I’m up here.” Footsteps made the ancient stairs creak, and a jingle of some sort accompanied the movement.

How had someone gotten in the house? What was happening? And was Sawyer okay? She peered over the stair railing to find Evan coming up, followed by a golden retriever, followed by Sawyer. Her son’s cheeks were red and splotchy. Had Evan barreled his way into the B & B and scared Sawyer? What in the world was going on?

Addie rounded the railing as Sawyer beelined for her, passing Evan. She snatched him up as he reached the top of the stairs, cradling him in her arms.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He just nestled into her neck and hiccupped. Like he did when he’d been crying hard. “Evan, what are you doing here? How did you even get inside? The front door was locked.” If she sounded shrill, sue her. Her heart was thrashing against her rib cage.

“I found Sawyer on the south side of the porch with his head stuck through the spindles, screaming up a storm.”

Addie sank to a seat on the top step at that announcement, keeping Sawyer nestled in her lap. “How is that possible? I locked the front door. And I’ve only been up here for fifteen minutes.” He must have escaped right away. Heat and mortification swirled and swallowed her whole. I’m a horrible mother. She dropped her forehead against Sawyer’s. How could she not have known any of that was going on? The bathroom window had been open, but he’d been on the other side of the house and the tool she’d been using had likely drowned out any chance of her hearing his cries.

She looked careless. Unfit.

The dog nestled against her, nudging into her legs, nosing Sawyer, comforting.

“Belay, no.” Evan reached for the golden’s collar, but Addie waved his hand away.

“She’s fine.” Addie buried fingers in the dog’s soft fur, welcoming the flash of comfort. “Thank you for rescuing him.” She met Evan’s gaze for a millisecond before letting her lids close against the panic.

What if Sawyer hadn’t gotten waylaid on the porch and had wandered farther from the house? Would they have even been able to find him in the wooded area that surrounded the B & B? There were dropping temperatures at night, plus wild animals. Addie shuddered at the horrible scenarios flipping through her mind.

“Sawyer, you can’t go outside without Mommy.” It was hard not to take her embarrassment out on him. Not to bark at him for escaping—especially when he could have seriously injured himself. Or worse. Panic turned her pulse into butterfly wings. “When I tell you to stay watching a movie, you need to do that. It’s disobeying to go outside. And now you’re going to lose your tablet time for later because you didn’t listen to Mommy.”

Fat tears slid down his cheeks as those big eyes implored her for grace. “I sorry, Mommy. I sorry.”

“I know, bug. And I forgive you, but you still have to lose a privilege when you disobey. That also doesn’t change the fact that I love you. Always. No matter what.”

“I don’t wanna lose a pribilege.”

Addie either. Sawyer wasn’t the only one who paid the price when he lost electronic time. It was a punishment for her too. That was the only part of the day she had to deal with paperwork for the bed-and-breakfast. And—as if she didn’t have enough on her plate to worry about—now her son was turning into an escape artist. The kid was too adventurous for his own good. Reminded her of another male she knew. The one still standing in front of them. The one who led expeditions for a living and risked his life more often than she ever wanted to know about. Despite the fact that Addie had no right to think or care about Evan ever, she still broke that rule on occasion.

She wasn’t the best at praying, but she’d asked for protection for Evan whenever he came to mind. Maybe that was because he was the first boy she’d loved. Or maybe it was because Evan was the father of her first child. The baby she’d held only once. The one who was being raised by adoptive parents. The one Evan didn’t know anything about because Addie’s parents had demanded as much.

What are you doing here, Evan? Is this some sort of opportunity from God to tell you everything? Or have you simply waltzed back into my life to remind me of what all I’ve done wrong?

If the latter was the case, Addie could free him from the job. She didn’t have any problems remembering any of it all on her own.

Chapter Three

At Sawyer’s declaration that he was hungry—he’d obviously gotten over the ordeal already—Addie popped up from her perch on the stair and brushed by Evan, the sweet scent of ripe summer strawberries traveling with her.

He and Belay followed her to the kitchen, that same curiosity that had made him turn toward the B & B causing him to stay put when he could easily let himself out the door.

Addie squeezed Sawyer so tight that he complained and squirmed. “Sorry-not-sorry, mister. You owe Mom lots of hugs for what you just put me through. Even if I did find out about it after the fact.”

Evan paused inside the large square opening that separated the kitchen from the entrance to the house and leaned against the frame. “He must have watched you lock the door before going upstairs while contemplating how to undo what you did.”

Addie shuddered. “Scary on so many levels.” She settled her forehead against Sawyer’s. “Don’t ever, ever, ever do that again. Pease.” Her gaze met Evan’s then, a smile surfacing. “Sawyer’s version of please,” she explained. “He always makes it sound like the vegetable. And since the majority of my conversations are at toddler levels, I tend to speak his language sometimes.”