Rivers end boxset volume.., p.119
River's End Boxset Volume 3, page 119
Lillian Rydell.
That was the one Rydell he knew. She lived by a river. She talked a bunch about her family’s ranch and the river nearby.
Fuck. He smiled. Lillian Rydell. Someone from a long time ago. Someone he hadn’t seen in years. Someone he knew in some ways but not others. No one he really thought about either. But… she was right there? Smack dab across the river? What would she think if he showed up?
Well, that depended on the situation. If she were married or happily dating someone, no way would she want this blast from the past showing up outta nowhere to ruin that. Possibly even destroying an ideal image of herself. But if she weren’t, would she mind? Now that he was physically there, so close, his curiosity rapidly piqued. He wasn’t happy with how they ended up. A major regret in life that he often contemplated was what if? What if they had actually spoken the next morning? What might they have said or done? Would their paths and company have parted forever as they did? Or what if they instead shared an actual connection?
Sure, it was a one-night, drunken hookup, but it stuck with him. He remembered her name. He often wondered what if things happened differently?
In his mind’s eye, his thoughts of Lillian were familiar, although he never added her last name. However, it all came together at that crucial moment.
She was gone the morning he woke up after their wild night, and he had no contact information to reach her. It never occurred to him to look her up in River’s End. And now, here he was. His travels brought him here so why not take a small detour across the river and ask for her at the Rydell River Ranch?
Sun streamed above the river in angles, making the golden, web-like shapes shimmer above the sand-and-rock riverbed. The clear water became a lush green and gold in spots. The surface rippled with the dancing, shimmering glitter of white-gold rays from the sun.
The searing blue sky was only tolerable with a strong pair of dark sunglasses. Irrepressible light flooded everywhere. The brown mountains clung to tall grasses of gold and beige that were only interrupted by the stark contrasts of the bright green pine trees. Free, unobstructed space characterized the land and sky. Hot sunlight. Warm breezes. Summer revealed the valley in all its glory.
Lillian Rydell waded in the river as her various family members swam, floated, and meandered around the swimhole. A few others lay on the beach, sunning themselves while their kids played in the sand. It was a menagerie of cousins, aunts, uncles, one sister, brothers, kids and parents of cousins that comprised the Rydell spawn and those who married them.
Today, the Rydell family gathered to play and frolic at the beach. A lazy ambience persisted on this too hot Saturday afternoon. All in attendance seemed to enjoy the space they owned and loved as proud members of the Rydell family. This was a perfect summer to Lillian. The ideal definition of it. Glad to feel the sun’s rays on her body, she raised her head and let the shimmering heat beat down on her upper body as the river flowed around her, cooling her lower body in glorious, silky persuasion.
That’s what Lillian Rydell always loved and enjoyed most while growing up here in the Rydell River Valley. She watched her son float on an inner tube in front of her. For at least a century or more, her family were considered the founders of the whole area. The river and valley were named after Clint Rydell’s family; and now, so many generations later, here she was.
Her grandfather, Jack Rydell was still the patriarch of the family, as he was in the past. Jack’s brother, Ian, and his wife, Kailynn, took more responsibility now but most people still associated the Rydell River Ranch with Jack.
Lillian’s six-year-old son splashed and swished around in his inner tube, pushing away from her, and paddling beside the shoreline. Struggling when his life jacket lifted him too high off the tube, his short legs strained to reach the water so he could kick for propulsion. But he managed. Ever since he was six months old, he had no fear of water. Lillian smiled at his early signs of independence, until, two seconds later, he floundered awkwardly. His confidence in knowing she was always right there, as she tried to be when she wasn’t working, boosted his courage. Only her job tore her away from him.
Lillian worked as the town’s large-animal veterinarian, and her biggest client was her own family’s ranch. She devoted her skills to the numerous horses they owned and boarded. She often spent entire days working only on the ranch. Her mom and younger sister eagerly babysat for her son, Benny, along with her grandma, Erin. No need for outside daycare or commercial babysitters, a luxury that also made her job as a full-time veterinarian and single mom very doable.
When she occasionally became overwhelmed, she tried to remember that. She had so much help around her. So much access to anything she required, that there was no reason to expect her career to lapse. Her son would always be fine. He’d turn out better than fine. Lillian’s dad, Ben, served as his role model, and also worked at the ranch. The little boy simply followed his grandpa around, shadowing him, and Ben handled him with a patience that was tolerant and admirable.
As her father’s veterinarian, Lillian laughed when her dad often winked and called his services “payment” for all the pro bono work she provided on the ranch.
“How the hell we survived so many decades without our own personal vet on the premises is a puzzle, and now, well, you’re the best addition to our team.” Her dad often said that while beaming with pride at her. He was in awe of her advanced degrees. And especially proud of the Dr. in front of her name.
Ben lacked advanced education. Following in his father’s footsteps, he enjoyed working on the horse ranch and being with Jack. Ben took extreme pleasure in observing Lillian’s quick mind when it came to her studies and he encouraged her strong desire to pursue veterinary medicine.
When she was relatively young, during middle school, she decided to become a veterinarian because she so loved animals. In sixth grade, she started an animal club with only three members: Lillian, her best friend, Britney, and her little sister, Jade, who was barely four. Despite having no idea what they were doing, Jade was eager and grateful when Lillian insisted she participate in the club.
Meeting weekly, they treated any animal in need of care, usually some kind of insect or another. Keeping them inside jars and little bug catchers, they probably killed more creatures than they saved, but all three desperately took their work seriously.
They also sold lemonade and cookies to raise money they donated to animal welfare organizations. Later, she realized only her family bought their offerings, despite overpaying for them. Still, it became a source of money that they could earn and donate in the name of their club.
Every wounded bird, rodent, and cat landed on the list of victims Lillian hoped to save and help. Even as a kid, she cringed at seeing dead bugs splattered on the car windshield. To her, all creatures deserved to live out their lives as well and as fully as anyone else.
Growing up on the ranch, Lillian understood farm animals. Luckily for her, none of their animals were raised for food. If they were, she’d have probably released them before they could be slaughtered. Many of the men in her family hunted and fished. That made her stomach sour. Long ago, she became a vegan after hearing the horrors (to her) of killing game and being on the receiving end of subsequent ribbing from Grandpa Jack and her own dad. She stuck to her principles. Animal care was her joy, her passion, and her excitement; the icing on the cake was getting paid to do it.
Beyond that, of course, was the unconditional love she had for her son.
She smiled when her thoughts drifted back to him. He stopped floating to dig in the wet sand on the sandbar. He was digging a tunnel deep into the side of it as the river water gently immersed everything he carved out.
The joy of simple activities. She remembered herself and Jade doing the same thing. The ranch was an idyllic and exquisite place to grow up. Naturally, it was not spared from drama, hurt, betrayal, drug abuse, fire, or devastation; even a rape occurred there.
The terrible fire that nearly destroyed it and the loss of some family members who unfortunately died could not diminish the wonderful memories Lillian had. Nothing was perfect or immune from the frailties of life and humanity.
But Lillian was always grateful for the river, the valley, the family and the home she inherited along with all the love she received. It was their own community and something she treasured highly.
Her education briefly took her away from River’s End, but she always planned to come straight back and set up her practice in town just a few miles from the ranch. She accomplished exactly what she expected and chose for her life. All the exacting, lofty goals she assigned for herself were eventually achieved. Always. She exceeded her parents’ expectations. Her motivation was internal. She followed concrete plans and goals and her entire focus remained centered on those things.
The only interruption in her career trajectory was her son.
He was the one unplanned commodity. At the time, she considered him a horrifying mistake.
But he truly turned out to be the greatest accomplishment of her life.
Go figure.
The roar of a two-person side-by-side buzzed down the beach trail. Glancing up, Lillian expected to see a family member or friend. They often came to their private area of the river for its wonderful, big beach where they could swim, sunbathe, relax, and socialize.
It was her uncle, Ian. His gaze scanned the small crowd, and he absently exchanged the usual pleasantries to the few who engaged him. When he spotted Lillian, his gaze zeroed in on her. He waved her over.
Oh, he must have needed her for one of the animals at the ranch. She nodded, already crossing the small stretch of river. Someone was in need of her expertise. Not the first time. She took emergency calls at all times of the day and night. The nearest emergency vet was located in town, a good thirty miles away, so Lillian was fast becoming a well-tapped resource at this end of the valley.
The river water reached her thighs as she crossed quickly. She took Benny’s hand in hers. “Okay, buddy, some critter or another needs your mama now, so I’m going to leave you with Grandma.”
Familiar with her “critter helping,” as he called it, Benny watched her wave at her grandma. Erin nodded and came closer, squatting beside Benny. Surprisingly, Erin was Benny’s great-grandma and to many onlookers, her fresh-faced beauty and youth were still evident despite being called Grandma. “Thank you, Grandma, I don’t know how long I’ll be…”
Erin waved her hand dismissively. “I know the drill by now, little Lil. Go and take care of it. It might be one of Jack’s horses, for all you know. He’s gotten way too spoiled with having you so close at hand and his old age makes him finicky. He’s becoming such a worrywart with his rescues. Thank goodness you manage to ease the burden. And besides, Benny loves me. He’s our first great-grandbaby and although it’s horrifying to reach age sixty-three, since it means I’m officially old, I love any time I get to spend with him while I’m still relatively mobile.”
Lillian scoffed. “Relatively mobile?” She leaned over to kiss her grandma’s cheek. “You can probably still out-walk me.” She squeezed her grandma’s arm with clear affection. “Thank you.”
“Go now. See you when we see you.”
Grabbing her towel and phone, Lillian slipped on a coverup over her swimsuit. She slid into the seat beside her great-uncle Ian, who gave her a nod. He was a man of few smiles and words, but so intense in his care for animals, she always knew each one was very special to him.
“Well, what’s the animal emergency?”
“None.” Ian slipped the vehicle into reverse and glanced backwards for a clear path. “Someone came to the front desk of the inn, asking for you. Claims to be an old friend. Thought I better let you be the judge of that.”
“Old friend?” Her eyebrows rose in unmasked curiosity. Who the hell could that be? “Any name?”
“They were very busy and didn’t ask; they just radioed me to find you.”
She wasn’t sure who was working the desk at the Rydell River Resort today. Her great-uncle Joey and his wife, Hailey ran the resort and often one of their grandkids worked the desk during the summer.
“Okay. Drop me off at the house and let me change.”
Ian stopped the ATV and released her before she entered her small, quaint house. Down by the river, her only neighbors were family members. Uncle Joey and her grandparents lived across the small road, while Ian and his wife, Kailynn, along with several cousins lived a bit beyond that. They divided some of the land decades ago so it would be available for them and any future Rydells to build if they chose to.
Her parents preferred to reside in a luxury apartment over the main arena. Lillian appreciated her humble privacy and recently built a small, three-bedroom rambler to accommodate her and Benny.
She quickly shucked her swimsuit and flip-flops for a pair of shorts, a tank top and sandals. Brushing her hair, she shrugged at her reflection. The mass of long chestnut hair, with reddish highlights that reached her waist and the bluntly cut, thick bangs accentuated her dark eyes.
Ian waited in the side-by-side and zoomed her down the recently paved road towards the resort check-in office. The ranch was renovated, and many impressive changes and upgrades occurred over the last decade. Paved roads, new buildings, and a total revamping for some of the older ones, with an eye towards modernization and warm ambiance improved the ranch substantially. It kept the authenticity of a working horse ranch, but now, it had become more of a vacation place than what her dad experienced when he grew up there.
Ian dropped her off and drove the side-by-side away with a wave as she entered the cool, air-conditioned foyer of the resort. It allowed the guests to check in or visit a gift shop that supplied sundries and souvenirs like keychains and whatnot. Advertising and marketing ploys were part of the changes that were added over the years. A small café featured a simple, but delicious menu of homemade donuts, quality sandwiches, and gourmet coffees and lemonades.
She glanced around, curious to see who asked for her, making her gaze quick and darting. Who the hell could it be?
The woman with two kids clinging to her legs? No. No recognition there. The older man having a sandwich in a bay window of the café? No. No!
She walked over to the reception desk and found Blake Alexander working the counter. “Did someone come here and ask for me?”
“Yes.” He was busy typing on the computer and began biting his lip. “I think he stepped out momentarily to look at the view.”
Lillian’s gaze lifted towards the hallway that led to the French doors and deck outside. It offered a majestic view of sloping land, sprinkled with tranquil horses, surrounded by neat, prim, white fencing that showcased the winding, blue ribbon of the river.
The right, high side was where the Rydell barns and horse arena were located. To the left lay the mini cabins with a waiting list of guests; everyone rented those first mostly because of their close proximity to the river.
There indeed was a man. His back was to her, leaving only his left side visible. She noticed his t-shirt, shorts, and wide shoulders that tapered down to a slim waist and a pair of powerful legs. There was something so strong and visceral about him, as if a bolt of energy shot out from him that nearly launched him right out of his sneakers. He rocked slightly, appearing unable to stand upright.
Man. Okay. Younger, judging by his physique.
Who could it be?
She stepped closer to the glass doors until she had a full view of his back. It was a fine body, but she still wasn’t sure. Perhaps a previous client she helped out with a horse or a cow or a chicken or hell, a dog? Who knew? She encountered many people in the course of her services. Perhaps a tourist whom she once assisted had returned to the area and decided to look her up? Could be. Not the first.
Then, he turned his face to the side.
That was all it took. A glimpse of his profile and she instantly recognized him. Even after all this time. All these years.
Mathew Griffin.
Dear God, it was no mistake, Mathew Griffin.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she gripped her fingers in a tight fist. Oh, no. Not Matt. Her heart began to race as she tried to swallow the lump of dread that filled her throat.
Wearing dark aviator sunglasses, his only defense against the brutal sun’s glare, the sweat from the ninety-plus temperatures glistened on his forehead as he looked out at her family’s land. She remembered the dark chestnut, curly hair. There was no mistaking this man. Ever. Although she didn’t know him. His image remained with her in a way that no one else’s could.
The same face that she saw every day staring back at her, the face of her son.
She stepped back.
No. Oh, no. What could she do? Confront him? But how? After all this time? After what happened? How could she admit the secret she kept? His secret? His son? How could she just say hi and make casual conversation?
Naturally, he had no idea. None. She almost wilted with panic. Thank God she left Benny at the river, far from here, with Erin. There was no reason to think they might wander up here, not onto the deck of one of a dozen outbuildings on the ranch. Concealed from the main driveway, as well as the road to the beach, she hoped vehemently that her family remained at the beach.
How could she not confront him?
How could she avoid telling him the truth?
What in the living hell was he doing here? Here? After all this time? Why? What could have motivated him to come here? Why on earth would he now?
It was a random, ordinary Saturday afternoon in the middle of July. Why would he suddenly materialize here? Her brain struggled to find the words. Nothing fit. There was no explanation. How did he even know where to find her? More importantly, why?
Did he know or suspect anything about Benny? No way. How could he? There was no possible way. Indecision and confusion paralyzed her. Childishly, she fought the urge to turn away and leave the premises with undetected, swift steps. She imagined herself telling Blake to ask him to leave and swear that she wasn’t anywhere near there. Ever. But—
