Holden dropped his head, a laugh or a cry hitching in his throat.
I swallowed and held Holden’s hand tighter in mine. “You once asked me about my heart, Mom. How you wanted it to be beating and alive and full. Now it is. With him. And no matter what happens, I’ve been happy.” I looked to Holden. “I have.”
Holden shook his head at me, his eyes full.
The room was thick with love and pain, grief and hope.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Mom said gently.
I nudged Holden. “She’s talking to you.”
He blinked, surprised, and I hated how he’d gone so long without knowing the love of a mother that he couldn’t recognize it when he heard it.
She’ll love him too. Always.
Holden approached my mother, and she took his hand that had been in mine.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I haven’t done anything.” His voice was thick.
“You make my son happy. That’s a gift. The greatest gift I’ll ever receive.”
Holden shook his head, shoulders trembling.
“Oh, honey.”
Mom extended her thin arms to him, and to my shock, Holden bentand put his around her. She held him, and I saw her eyes close against his shoulder.
After a few moments, he stood up stiffly. “My apologies. I usually have more personality than this.” He wiped his eyes and smoothed his coat. “It was extraordinary to meet you, Nancy, but if you’ll excuse me…”
He strode out, shooting me a tear-filled look as he passed.
“He’s beautiful,” Mom said.
“He’s a handful,” I said. “But I love him. I wish I’d told you sooner.”
“You told me. That’s all that matters.” She held her arms to me, and I hugged her carefully, inhaling her, begging my cells to remember what this felt like. “I love you, River.”
“Love you, Mom.” Tears choked my throat and burned my eyes.
She took me by the shoulders, mindful of my injury. “Go. He’s waiting for you.”
“He might not stay. I’m losing both of you.”
“You aren’t losing me, honey. Please don’t forget that.” Then she smiled, so beautiful in her happiness. “And he’s not gone yet. There’s always hope.”
Twenty-Three
Holden
I paced the hallway outside the Whitmores’ bedroom until River came out, shutting the door quietly behind him.
I whirled on him. “Why did you do that?”
“You know why.”
I stared, the Alaskan cold chewing up and spitting out the warmth I’d had from being in Nancy Whitmore’s presence for only a few minutes.
