My eyes could hardly scan fast enough, because it was all so sweet—so terribly, heartbreakingly sweet—that I could hardly stand to read anymore for what it was doing to my heart.
Then the last page of the book, the night before they got married on her eighteenth birthday.
My last day writing as Rose Buchanan. My next book, the one with the beautiful blue cover that he ordered from New York as a wedding present because he said it matched my eyes, will say Rose Margaret Montgomery. Tomorrow I will marry my love, and nothing, nothing in my life could ever be better than this feeling. I'm so glad that I didn't hate him for very long, because I cannot wait to call him My Husband.
Carefully, and so very, very slowly, I closed the cover of the journal and clutched it to my heaving chest. I felt a tear slip down my cheek before I even realized I was crying. I set the book back into the box and sat straight, staring at the far wall of the attic while my mind scrambled around what I'd just read. My palms pressed hard against my cheeks to stem the remainder of the tears, and I took a few deep breaths before I pulled my phone out.
I hit the name on the screen and waited for a voice to pick up.
"Come on, come on, come on," I whispered after another unanswered ring.
"Hey, sweet—" my mom said.
"You said the curse wasn't real," I interrupted. My breathing picked up, and I pressed a hand to my chest. "You guys told us the family curse was crazy-ass, southern bullshit because it wasn't real."
Stunned silence came from the other end of the phone. "Well, that's because it's not."
"It is," I wailed. "It's real, it's so real, and apparently it's a misogynistic curse that's only easy and obvious for the men in this family, and I'm freaking out, and he has a girlfriend, Mom."
"Okay, okay, take a deep breath, please. No panic attacks when I'm a thousand miles away and can't help you."
At her soothing tone, I did as she asked. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
"Good," she said. "One more, Grace."
The last one came out on a gusty sigh, and I heard her laugh.
"Tell me what's going on, baby."
The red book stared up at me, the only piece of something keeping me from rocking in the corner. I felt the overwhelming urge to grab it again, rub my fingers over the cover like a talisman, to see if it would bring order to my disorderly thoughts.
Then I told her everything.
I told her about my arrival into Green Valley, and meeting Tucker, the festival planning, the hike, and then meeting his girlfriend. His stunning, southern belle girlfriend who looked perfect in pink. It came out in choppy sentences and messy rambles, but she listened to all of it without judgment. When I finished telling her about the journals, and Rose, she sucked in a deep breath, then let it out, almost like she was breathing through her own panic attack.
"Damn."
I laughed. "Right?"
"And he calls you Angry Girl?" I heard her smile through the phone, loud and clear.
"He does." My chest hurt thinking about it. It hurt because I wanted nothing more than to hear him say it, because he wasn't afraid to call me that, he wasn't afraid to call me on how unforgivably, unspeakably rude I was to him the first time I met him.
"Oh, honey. I wish I could help you more, but I'm not exactly sure how, you know? Your father and I were not some fated, perfect match. There was no love at first sight magic with us. We were just … two people who never should've gotten married." She sighed. "So, if what you're saying is true, it wasn't true for me and your father."
And I knew that. They didn't hate each other, there was no ill-will or horrible fighting. There was apathy. The inexorable knowledge that they were far, far better apart than they'd ever been together. Which did not help me, as I tried to wrap my head around what I did or didn't feel for Tucker.
"I know, Mom."
She cleared her throat. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but have you talked to your cousins? Or your uncle? They certainly seem to … buy in, so to speak."
"Uncle Robert and Aunt Fran are in Nashville, but I could ask Connor or Levi."
"You know that I struggle to believe that any of this has a basis in reality, but even if they can help you make sense of it, maybe you should try."
I sank back in the chair and pulled my legs up to my chest. "Yeah, maybe I will. I have to talk to someone about this before I meet with Tucker tomorrow."
"Let me know what happens, okay?"
"I will," I promised.
"I love you, Grace. And I miss you."
I closed my eyes, wishing desperately that she was still a forty-minute drive away from me, so I could curl up on her couch and talk this out. "Miss you too, Mom. I'll call you later."
"And tell your brother thanks a lot for letting me know he made it in one piece," she added.
I was smiling when I hung up, which was probably her intention. But the smile didn't last long, because I had a feeling that my cousin Levi would only affirm what I already knew.
I was so incredibly screwed.
With the time difference, it was probably just past dinner time where he lived with his girlfriend Joss in Seattle. As a trainer for the Washington Wolves, Levi worked crazy hours during the season, but he'd probably be done by now.
Hopefully.
Tapping out a text, I didn't even care how dramatic I sounded.
Me: This is a "911, you better answer your cousin because she's about to lose her mind and you're the only one who can help her" kind of call.
It went through to his phone, and within five seconds, he started calling me.
I breathed a sigh of relief and answered. "Hi. Thank you. I'm hanging up and switching to FaceTime because I need eyeball to eyeball for this."
"Ohhhhkay then," he said.
When we reconnected, he was smiling into the camera. Levi could have been tossed in with me and Grady as a triplet. We had the same tawny colored hair and goldish green hazel eyes, the same wide smile. But at the sight of my face, his smile dropped. "Green Valley not treating you well?"
"Tell me about this stupid curse."
Understanding softened his face. "Ahh. I see."
"Did you know that there's only been one other Buchanan woman born in the last five generations besides me? Did you know that?"
He scratched the side of his face. "Ah, no. I didn't. I thought you were the only one."
"Yeah, well, there was. And she had to deal with the same bullshit that I've been dealing with since I got to this bullshit town with its bullshit family love curses."
Levi's mouth curled up. "Love at first sight isn't so fun, is it?"
"Ha," I burst out harshly. "Oh, get this … Buchanan women? AKA Me and Miss Rose Margaret, we have hate at first sight. Hate!"
His eyebrows bent in a confused 'V'. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
I told him the story. He listened carefully, with hums of sympathy and surprised widening of the eyes and a grimace when he put two and two together about Tucker and Magnolia.
"Yeah, they've been together forever. Since the summer before senior year of high school, I think."
"Great," I muttered.
"And your dad works for Bobby Jo, doesn't he?"
"Sure does."
Levi whistled. "You've got a mess on your hands, that's for damn sure."
I scrubbed a hand over my face. "Thanks for the reminder. You're supposed to be helping me figure out what to do with this … feeling."
He tipped his head back and laughed. "Honestly, Grace, all I can tell you is that there isn't a rule book to figuring it out. All of us have had different experiences with this one issue. Some relationships take longer than others. Connor and my parents, it was fast for both of them."
"Assholes. They don't even know our struggle."
He grinned. "They don't. But, look at me and Joss, she wasn't anywhere near ready to be with anybody when we met." He shrugged. "So I waited until she was."
This was the part
I knew. They were best friends for five years. Five years of him loving her, while he waited for her to be ready for a relationship. That ache was back in my chest, and I wanted to tear it out. Because it was the ache of longing, of the unknown, of feeling like something was missing behind my heart.
"I'll tell you this though," he continued. "Joss said something right after we moved here, when I told her about the curse, and I think there's some truth to it."
"What's that?"
"Well, she made some comment about how maybe it's a Green Valley thing. Any Buchanan who's met their perfect match, they've met that person in town. And people like your parents …"
"They met elsewhere," I mused. It certainly made sense. In a completely nonsensical way. "What about Hunter?"
Hunter was Levi's oldest brother. I didn't know him well, because he was about ten years older than I was, and he'd lived in Seattle with his wife for the last decade. The wife he didn't meet in Green Valley.
"Oh no, my brother's relationship woes are for another time. We're talking about you and Tucker right now."
"There is no me and Tucker," I pointed out.
My cousin sighed, staring hard at me through the camera. "Grace, I wish I could tell you that falling in love with someone the way we seem to is easy, that all the pieces fall into place like they were destined. But it doesn't always happen that way. My experience with Joss was different, but if I could give you any advice, I'd tell you to just … get to know him. Befriend him. Because if he's the man you're meant to end up with, you'll have to get to know him anyway. And if you don't end up with him …" his voice trailed off.
"If I don't, that's probably why it's called a curse, and not a blessing," I said glumly.
Levi didn't say anything, but the look on his face was sad, and I hated that. It itched uncomfortably, that pity coming from him.
After another moment of silence, he agreed with a slow nod. "Probably."
A text banner scrolled down, briefly obscuring the top of Levi's head.
Unknown number: Hey, it's Tucker. If you've still got time tomorrow, would you be able to meet in the morning? I just had a meeting cancel at eight thirty. We could meet at the fairgrounds for inspiration. I'll text you the address if that time works.
Unknown number: I hope you're feeling better.
"How am I supposed to do this?" I whispered. It wasn't necessarily aimed at Levi. Just a general question for the universe about how the hell I was supposed to navigate his presence in my life while I felt like this. And not just that, while I felt like this and he had a serious girlfriend.
"I don't know," Levi answered. "You've always sucked at hiding your feelings, haven't you?"
Helplessly, I laughed. "Thanks a lot."
He wasn't wrong though. Take my very first encounter with Tucker as a perfect example. My emotions had always been big, bigger than most people's. They'd drown me easily if I allowed them to. And the feelings for Tucker Haywood? It was everything I could do to keep a white-knuckled hold of the life preserver.
And tomorrow morning, on an empty fairground, I'd be completely alone with him.
"Befriend him, huh?" I asked.
Levi shrugged. "Maybe it's shitty advice, but it's all I've got."
I said my goodbyes to Levi and stared at the texts from Tucker.
Very carefully, I added his contact information to my phone, under the initials T.A.H.
For some arbitrary reason, I didn't want to see his name pop up every time he sent me a message. Separating him from his name, even on my phone, felt like a small step in retaining my hold on the reality of our situation. I took a deep breath and messaged him back.
Me: Feeling better, thank you. I'll be there at eight thirty.
T.A.H.: Great. I'll bring the coffee. If you like it any other way than black, you're on your own.
"I can do this," I told myself. Then I leaned over and closed up the box at my feet, leaving Rose and her red-covered book in the piles of dust.
I heard heavy steps on the unfolded ladder that I’d climbed to get up there.
Grady popped his head into the opening of the attic. “Talking to yourself?”
I sighed. “A little bit.”
“You okay?”
My head and my heart wanted to give different answers to that question. My brother must have seen something on my face that he didn’t like, because he grimaced.
“Come on, let’s go.”
“Where?” I asked, standing carefully so that I didn’t smack my head on the low ceiling.
“Connor just called, asked if we wanted to meet him and Sylvia at the community center.”
My tortured groan made him laugh.
“What’s wrong with that?”
I stepped over a box and peered at the contents, my eye catching on an antique picture frame that I grabbed so I could hang it in the apartment. The rough edges would be perfect for a picture I need to hang. “That place didn’t treat me well the first time. I walked in the door and found myself volunteered to make out with half of Green Valley.”
“Ohhhhkay. Well, there’s some fundraiser happening. We missed the spaghetti dinner, but some band is playing.” He glanced at his watch. “If we leave now, we can catch the end of the event. Connor figured they’d play late as more people show up.”
Grady’s head disappeared as he exited the ladder to give me room to come down. Handing him the frame, I turned and made careful steps on the wobbly wood.
I smiled when I noticed my camera already hooked around his neck. “Going through my things?”
He dipped his head as he pulled the strap off and handed it to me. “Figured if you were going to say no, I could sway you with the thought of an entire gymnasium full of people to photograph.”
I heaved a sigh. “Aunt Fran told you about her crazy idea?”
“It’s not crazy, and yes.” He laid a hand on my back to steer me toward the stairs. “You and I left LA because we were chained to desks that were sucking the souls from our bodies. I think this is the perfect thing for you to put it back where it belongs.”
His words had a strange effect on my body, given what I’d just read in Rose’s journal. If what I suspected was true, Green Valley was the catalyst for something much bigger than either of us had bargained for.
“And you’re going to find yours out in the forest and the mountains?” I asked him.
“Yup. Now let’s go jam with the locals.”
Chapter 37
Tucker
Under normal circumstances, I had no problem with a quiet night at home. I’d lived by myself since I finished law school, in a small two-bedroom house just outside of downtown Green Valley.
But that night, for some reason, I was edgy and restless. The silence around me produced a discomfort that I wasn’t used to. I found myself flipping channels without a single thing holding my interest. Picking up the book I’d been trying to read for the past couple weeks was no more successful.
After the awkward encounter with Glenn and Grace, we’d both lost our mood for dessert, and I’d dropped Magnolia off at her house with a soft kiss on the lips and an explanation about needing a good night’s sleep before my day at work. If my excuse didn’t sit well with her, it was nothing she questioned out loud.
The truth was that I couldn’t shake something about that run-in with Grace.
It made no sense that I felt guilty for introducing her to Magnolia.
But even that was a lie I kept telling myself.
And that’s why the quiet rankled, why it sat like an ill-fitting shirt over my body, because sitting alone without anything to distract me, I knew why I felt guilty.
Standing with my girlfriend’s hand on my arm, I couldn’t escape the truth. I wasn’t just interested in Grace because of her reaction to me.
I was fascinated by her.
I was attracted to her.
Attraction felt like a mild word, something too innocent to be dangerous, like noticing a beautiful woman when you pas
sed her on the street. There was nothing wrong with that.
But I was beyond the threshold of easy explanation, and I knew it. I’d known it since I drove her home, I just couldn’t admit it until tonight.
The cover of my book snapped shut like a gunshot before I tossed it roughly onto the coffee table.
Pushing from my chair, I stood and paced my living room, my hands on my hips and my breath sawing in and out of my lungs.
I couldn’t be there, in the still, empty home by myself, because I’d allow my mind to run in loops.
Before I knew where I was driving, I was backing my truck out of the garage and out onto the dark road, the beams of my headlights cutting a stark path.
My phone stayed silent as I drove through town and let the breeze clear my head, because there wasn’t really anyone who might call me on a random weeknight. Not that Magnolia and I discussed it much, but because of how young we were when we started dating, and how quickly it got serious, we left high school as each other’s best friend.
We navigated college together, with me going on to law school, and her starting a job for her father. Moving out of our parents’ homes and on our own, the two of us had each other.
There were guys I knew in a friendly capacity, that I’d share a drink with if I saw them at Genie’s Country Western Bar, that I’d talk sports with, discuss work on a surface level if I ran into them at a jam session.
A jam session.
With a quick glance at the rearview mirror, I flipped a U-turn in the road and headed back down the winding, tree-lined road toward the community center. I’d get there at the tail end, but I knew they’d still be playing.
Loud music, abundant laughter, and a gymnasium full of people to distract me from my thoughts were exactly what I needed.
The parking lot was packed to the gills, and I found a questionable parking spot at the end of a row, my truck straddling the grass. My boots crunched on the gravel, the unmistakable sounds of bass and banjo and a deep, lilting harmony from Winston singing voices echoed out of the propped open doors. Light and laughter spilled from it too, and I let out a breath, knowing I made the right choice in getting out of the house.
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