She was breathless when the first clip ended, followed by a string of information on where people could go to learn more, or to donate their help, whether it be in money, supplies, or in person. He was like a one-person Peace Corps for the new millennium. She glanced at the number of times the video had been watched and blinked twice at the nine-digit number. In the content below the video, she saw that millions had watched the streaming event she’d just watched on tape, live when it had happened. Millions.
“So . . . yeah,” she said faintly. “I guess he does know people.”
She was halfway through her third video clip when a knock on the window made her squeal and bobble her phone, all but tossing it across the cab of the truck.
Hand to her pounding chest, she turned to find Wyatt standing on the other side of her window.
Of course he was.
She’d never been less prepared to see him. Not even when he’d stepped into the quiet, dust-mote filled air of her stables that morning. Nothing about what she’d just been watching made this easier. Quite the opposite. Because this man, staring at her right now with a knowing smile on his oh-so-handsome face, was, in fact, an utter stranger to her. Whatever they figured out, whatever they decided to do about being in each other’s orbits again, the absolute bottom line truth was that the Wyatt she’d known, the Wyatt she’d considered her closest, dearest, and most deeply trusted friend—and, after he’d gone, the Wyatt she realized she loved—no longer existed.
The man before her might be a bigger, bolder, better version of the Wyatt she’d known, and that was fine, good— great, even—but this Wyatt wouldn’t be sticking around in Blue Hollow Falls for long.
So, what did it really matter what happened between them now?
She looked past him and saw Tory’s truck. It was empty. So, it was just the two of them. She started to motion for him to come around and get in the cab, then decided that was a far too closed-in space. She was still catching her breath and trying to reconcile the person she knew with the man standing a foot away from her. Now when she looked at him, she saw the guy livestreaming from some of the most remote places in the world, with such vibrancy and intent. She could no longer see the boy he’d been. That was a memory associated with someone else now.
She pulled the door handle and he stepped back while she climbed out and closed the door behind her. Before he could speak, she held her phone up and wiggled it. “So, Reed Planet, huh?” Her smile was as dry as her tone, but inside, she felt anything but casual.
He lifted his shoulders in a short shrug. “It just sort of happened.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Because people just happen to hop from Tierra del Fuego over to the middle of Antarctica one day, so they can go hang out and livestream with penguins and a handful of scientist folk who live in what looks like something built by Star Wars storm troopers.”
“I was on the edge of Antarctica. Haven’t made it to the middle yet.”
“Ah, the Antarctic Riviera then.” She waved a hand. “Sounds positively balmy. Bring a beach towel and umbrella. How are the penguins at catching Frisbees?”
“A bit flat-footed, actually.”
She snorted at that. She had a thousand questions for him. In the end, she just shook her head and said, “You’re clearly doing something you love very much.” She held his gaze and smiled. “I’m happy for you, Wyatt.” She laughed. “Utterly and completely gobsmacked, but truly happy for you. You’re making a difference.” That was the one thread that connected the two Wyatts. “I’m really proud of you.”
“You’re making one, too. Tory told me about the work you’re doing, taking in rescue horses, working with kids who otherwise wouldn’t ever pet a horse, much less ride one. Kids with special needs, too, who open up with your horses in ways they can’t otherwise do.”
“It’s a few horses,” she said. “And the kids aren’t work; they’re a pleasure and a miracle. I’m just happy I can facilitate. Nothing on the scale of what—”
“Anything anyone does to help—whatever that might be—is meaningful and potentially life changing to the living thing on the receiving end. We’re not grading on a scale of who did the most. Any good being done is leaving this big rock better than we found it.”
“Reed Planet,” she said, with a smile and a short shake of her head. “How did it all start?”
He shrugged, then dug his hands in his back pockets. “Like most things. A complete fluke.” He nodded toward the path to the docks. “Want to walk?”
She glanced at her phone. It was a few hours to dinner. She still was not looking forward to facing the cabal of her friends and their curiosity about Wyatt, but she didn’t want him to miss dinner. She had no idea what he had in mind in terms of helping, but he surely had a massively huge platform from which to draw attention to their issues. She grabbed her hat and put it on, wanting the screen of privacy the brim would provide. Just in case. “Sure.”
They started down the path. “Should we bring a blanket?” she asked, and he chuckled.
“Unless you plan to go for a swim, no. I’m good.” His lips curved in a dry smile. “I got my laps in earlier today.”
“And I was so worried that you were cold,” she said, shaking her head. “That actually probably did feel balmy compared to some of the things you’ve done.”
“Well, normally I at least have a wet suit or something, but it was for a good cause.”
She just laughed, shook her head, and kept on walking.
“What?” he asked, when she didn’t explain.
“Nothing,” she said. “I guess I just remember you as the guy who wouldn’t try a rope swing or climb on the back of the bulls you raised.” She waved her hands. “I can’t seem to connect that guy to the person I watched in those videos.”
He laughed loudly at that. “Oh, trust me, it’s a big mix of adrenaline rush and outright terror most of the time.”
She sent him a sidelong glance. “Oh yeah, you looked petrified.”
“That’s the adrenaline talking.” He lifted a hand, still chuckling when she just kept shaking her head. “I’ll admit that the longer I do this, the more confident I feel about certain things, but I have a healthy respect for the risks I take. I’m daring, maybe, but I’m not reckless,” he told her. “There’s a difference.”
“Daring, most definitely,” she said, “but, yeah, I concede your point.”
“It takes a team of dedicated souls to pull off what we do. I would never risk their safety unnecessarily.” He smiled. “That’s not to say we don’t risk a lot, but we mitigate the risks in every way we can. The point is to bring that thrilling sense of discovery to the person sitting at home, with both of us seeing it, experiencing it, for the first time together. Truly together, because it’s streaming live. So yes, there are unknowns, but it’s not like we don’t do our research before going in, wherever we’re going.”
Chey nodded but didn’t say anything more. They walked in silence for a time. It wasn’t awkward, but she wouldn’t say it was comfortable. She was even more hyper aware of him now than she had been before. Now it wasn’t only dealing with her physical reaction to him, her memories of how they’d been when they were younger, how they’d parted ways.