Brady
It had been nearly a week since Dex and Joanie filed for divorce. Their assets were frozen, and legally, Ed had no way of getting them out of escrow and finalizing the sale. He hadn’t walked away yet, but it did accomplish what the Cartwrights needed right now: more time.
“You know what I’ve been thinking a lot about this week?” Collins asked. She was at her desk, and I was working on a set of kitchen chairs.
“Tell me,” I said.
“Do you believe in fate?” she asked in response. “That people can be tied together by something bigger?”
“That’s quite a question for nine a.m. ”
Collins smiled at me. “I just…I wonder if every decision I’ve ever made was leading me to you,” she said, and my hammer slipped out of my hand. I didn’t even hear it hit the floor.
“I know mine led me to you,” I said quietly.
I’d never been more sure of anything—the discovery in the cellar only confirmed it.
Collins came into my life exactly when I needed her—when I needed something to hope for and something to push me forward, and she did that for me years before I met her on that stormy night.
“So you’re in on this?” she asked hopefully, and I walked over and kneeled in front of her chair.
“All in,” I said.
She reached out and cupped my face. “I think…I think I know what I want to do next.” I stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.
“After I got the feature on Sweetwater Peak,” Collins said, “I did this run on like small rural towns in America—took pictures for journalists who were talking about education gaps and literacy rates or rural library funding—stuff like that. Turns out, Ed Sullivan has bought property in three of those towns and has started developing.”
“Do you think that was on purpose?” I asked.
Collins had been a research fiend over the past week.
She had been glued to her laptop during the day and to me at night, which I was obviously okay with.
She was also talking to Cam a fair amount and asking a lot of questions.
She had her camera out, too—taking pictures of my work or sneaking out in the morning to capture something.
She was aglow—the same way she was in the church or at the river.
“I don’t really believe in coincidences like that,” she said. “I wonder if…” Collins bit her lip.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’ve been wondering how I can be the most helpful—to my family, to Cam, and to all of the people who this company has screwed over.
” I rubbed my hands up and down either side of her thighs.
“And last night, it kind of hit me. I wonder if Cam needs help gathering information from people impacted in these towns. I wonder if I could help that way.”
I smiled. “You mean, like, go Erin Brockovich?”
Collins laughed. “Exactly that—and I already have pictures and stories from some of these places. Maybe it could be a photography project that someone might be interested in—the before and after—especially if I could find someone willing to write about it. I think this is one of those things that deserves to be bigger—have more light and different eyes on it.”
I agreed with that. This type of business model didn’t start and end with Sullivan Industries, I was sure, and unless more people heard about it, it would keep happening. Ed and everyone like him depended on separation and misinformation to keep them afloat. “Why couldn’t you write about it?”
Collins shook her head. “I tell stories with pictures—not words. It’s a whole different skill set.”
“Do you know anyone?”
“I’ll have to think about it,” she said. “Anyway, what do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea,” I said truthfully, and swallowed before I asked my question. “So you’d leave Sweetwater Peak again?”
Collins looked at me thoughtfully. “Temporarily,” she said, and kissed me. “This is my home. You could come with me, you know.”
“Really?”
Collins nodded. “I love you, Brady. I’m in this with you.
” I thought about why I left Redmond—all the places I wanted to discover when I realized that the world was wider than my own view of it.
I thought of the way Sweetwater Peak called to me, how I wondered how many places were left like this.
I wanted to see as many of them as I could, and I wanted to see them with Collins.
“I’ll go anywhere with you, Collins,” I said. “To the ends of the earth and back again if you asked me to.”
“What about the shop?” Collins asked, looking around. “You did this all on your own. I don’t want you to leave it behind.”
I shrugged. “I love the shop. I’m proud of it,” I said. “But the ghosts can hold it down for us. We won’t be gone forever, right?”
Collins shook her head. “This is our home, I think.”
“It is.” I nodded. “And you’re my home, too.” With Collins, I felt the most like myself—the most comfortable and content, but also the most adventurous and bold. She blew the dust off my lungs, and I could breathe.
“So it’s you and me, then?” she asked, her hands in my hair.
I turned my head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “You and me,” I agreed.