Week 3
Riley sat alone on the veranda while the last light slipped from the canyon walls. A journal rested open in her lap, one she hadn’t touched in years. A folded sketch slid from between the pages. She recognized it immediately.
It was a building with stone arches and curved windows. A place she had designed long before she moved to Echo Canyon. A greenhouse.
Back then, she had called it impractical. It was way too expensive and probably too ambitious. Whenever she pulled out the sketch again, she told herself she was too busy. Years went by, and she simply stopped thinking about it.
Tonight, sitting alone on her veranda, the sketch still tugged at her. The canyon’s breeze rippled a corner of the page. The dream hadn’t disappeared. It seemed like it had been waiting.
Riley closed the journal and looked into the darkness. The dream had waited. Waiting for what?
The question followed Riley into the next morning. She stood in the kitchen looking out at her expansive back garden. Could she build the greenhouse out there? When she had told herself she wasn’t building anything anymore?
She found Quinn on the veranda with a cup of coffee growing cold beside her.
Quinn was staring toward the canyon rim.
“What are you thinking about?” Riley asked.
Quinn laughed softly. “That’s the problem. I don’t think I am.”
Riley sat down.
“For thirty years, my life was schedules, reports, investigations, and problems to solve. Every day had a purpose.”
“And now?”
“Now I think about groceries. Bills. Appointments.”
The words hung between them.
“When did I stop imagining how things might be different?” Quinn asked.
Riley smiled.
“I asked myself the same question last night.”
Quinn looked at her. “I used to think about possibilities. Now I think about errands.”
The thought stayed with both Riley and Quinn all day.
That evening, the women gathered for dinner like they often did, on Riley’s veranda.
The conversation wandered on the normal topics, moving from horses to books to whatever Val happened to be growing.
Then Raven set down her wine glass. “Let’s try something.”
Four pairs of eyes narrowed suspiciously. Raven ignored them.
What would you regret not doing before your time here is done?”
The women put down their glasses and quieted.
“Not what you’ve accomplished,” she clarified. “Not what you want to buy or what you’ve given to everyone else. What do you still want for yourself?”
No one spoke. Then Riley surprised herself. “I want to build a greenhouse. For me.”
The others turned toward her. “A real one. I designed it decades ago and never built it. The sketch tumbled out of an old journal last night.” Murmurs of appreciation filled the night air.
Quinn nodded slowly. “I’m not trying to copy Riley.” She looked at Riley and winked. “I want to create a home, here in Echo Canyon. A place I own. I have never owned a house. I don’t count the condo. That has always felt like a rental.”
Val stared at the table. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I want to feel wanted for myself.”
Her honesty settled over the group. Nobody spoke. Somewhere below the veranda a coyote called from the canyon.
Val stared at her hands.
Skylar looked down at her plate, pausing to gather her thoughts.
“I was going to say that I want to stop being afraid. But that’s not it. “I want enough time to write all the stories still waiting for me.”
Raven smiled.
“Good.”
Then the four women turned toward her.
“Oh no,” Raven said.
Raven tried to get away without answering her own question.
“Oh yes, Raven,” Quinn replied. “You started this. I think we know you well enough to know you already have your answer.”
Raven laughed. OK, but you’re going to laugh.
Raven looked down into her wine. “I’d like to know what it feels like.”
“What?”
“To fall in love.”
The table went quiet. Raven laughed softly. “See? I told you.”
No one laughed. Raven picked up her wine in the silence.
“Really?” Skylar finally broke the silence.
Raven nodded. “Our people teach us to stand on our own. As a Shaman, I was never encouraged to pursue a lifelong partnership.”
“So you’ve never been in love?”
“No.”
“Even in the silence of your rules?”
“No.”
The answer felt much larger than the single word.
Skylar was the one to say what everyone was thinking. “I’m so sorry, Raven.”
Later that week, Val found Skylar in her garden.
The fountain murmured beside them while the late afternoon sun filtered through desert willows.
“I keep thinking about what I said,” Val admitted.
“About wanting to feel wanted?”
Val nodded.
“I spent most of my life helping people. Nursing. Volunteering. Taking care of things.”
“And?”
“I convinced myself that wanting more was selfish.”
Skylar studied her friend. “You know what I think?”
Val shook her head.
“I think wanting something is often how we discover what’s missing.”
Val blinked. The words landed somewhere deeper than she expected.
For a long time, neither woman spoke. The garden did the talking for them. Water trickled, and birds sang as they darted in and out of the spray. The scent of rosemary drifted on the breeze.
Finally, Val smiled. “Maybe I need to stop apologizing for wanting things.”
Skylar squeezed her hand. “If I had lived your life, I would be agonizing too. But, that sounds like a good place to start.”
Before Val left, Skylar walked her through the garden. They paused beside the fountain.
“This place almost never happened,” Skylar said.
Val looked around in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I dreamed about this garden for years.”
Skylar swept her hand toward the arches, the pots overflowing with color, the carefully placed stonework.
“I kept telling myself it was foolish. Too much money. Too much effort. Too indulgent.”
Val laughed. “It doesn’t look foolish.”
“No.” Skylar smiled. “It looks exactly like the dream I almost talked myself out of.”
A few nights later, after a busy day in town, Riley returned to her veranda. The sketchbook still rested beside her chair. The canyon stretched beneath the stars. She thought about Quinn, Val, Skylar and Raven.
She recalled all the things they had quietly stopped imagining. They didn’t lose sight of their dreams because they died. Because life had gotten loud, somewhere along the way, they had stopped asking themselves what they still wanted.
Riley opened the sketchbook again. The greenhouse waited on the page exactly where she had left it.
As she looked at her sketch, she smiled and took a deep breath of the night air. For the first time in years, she didn’t see an abandoned dream. She saw a beginning.
And this time, she knew she wasn’t alone in her thoughts.
Many readers tell me they don’t want to leave the women of Echo Canyon when a story ends.
That’s exactly why I created Story Insiders.
Five women on a canyon veranda remember the dreams they buried under years of duty and silence.
Do you think Raven will ever find the love she's never known, or has her heart already learned to want without hope?