“Stop saying it was a mistake!” Pecca’s voice broke. “Wanting to be with you isn’t a mistake.”
“You’ve made bad choices before.” Colton’s heart shredded. “Count me as one of them.”
Tears crested Pecca’s lashes as she stepped back. What he said was a low blow that immediately extinguished the light in her eyes. He watched her swallow, the devastation of his words playing across her delicate features.
Colton wanted to take them back, but he couldn’t. He loved her too much. So he’d let her walk away.
TWENTY-FIVE
FORGET CHOCOLATE. Cinnamon, sugar, and cream cheese icing were the cure for a broken heart. Pecca chewed on her cinnamon roll but found it hard to swallow over the knot in her throat. She set the plate down and grabbed a tissue.
“Honey, don’t cry.” Lane scooted closer on the couch and rubbed Pecca’s arm. “You’ll make me cry.”
“I can’t”—she sucked in a sob—“help it.”
After Colton pulverized her heart, Charlie came to her rescue and drove her to the café. The boys were already asleep, and Lane had the café dining area near the fireplace lit up with candles. A tray with cookies and warm cinnamon rolls sat on the coffee table in front of the couch. “And I have a pint of double fudge brownie ice cream in the freezer too.”
Pecca had burst into a fresh round of tears at her friend’s compassionate gesture. Charlie took that as his sign to head upstairs, leaving Pecca to rehash the whole night all over again.
“He’s upset, Pecca.” Lane squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sure he didn’t mean what he said. People say crazy things when they’re scared.”
“Then he must be terrified.”
Lane laughed softly at her pitiful sarcasm. “He’s going through a lot. I’m sure it’s difficult.”
“I know difficult.” Pecca’s eyes flashed to the ceiling, where Maceo slept in the room above her. “I’m not dismissing Colton’s challenges, but over the last few weeks I had begun seeing changes. He was helping Maceo, started the flag football team. Even his attitude during workouts had become less focused on what he couldn’t do, and I could see this light beginning to shine in him. I’d hoped he was starting to see that his movement disorder didn’t have to be the setback he believed it was. And then tonight . . .” She swallowed. The pain pierced her raw heart. “He talked about turning his grandparents’ ranch into something like Home for Heroes.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “And I was hoping he was going to ask me to go with him. Am I so stupid, or what?”
“You’re not stupid,” Lane said, her voice consoling. “If fear makes people say crazy things, love makes us do crazy things.”
Pecca, sighing deeply, wiped her eyes. Tears began slipping over her cheeks again. She closed her eyes and could picture the look on Colton’s face. Anger. He was angry at himself, his circumstance. And she understood. Every time Maceo had to be fitted with a new prosthetic, the days following were painful physically and emotionally, leaving Maceo questioning why he didn’t have a leg and why he had to go through this. And he’d ask something that gutted Pecca every time—Was God mad at him? Had God taken his leg as punishment?
They were questions Pecca had asked herself a million times when the doctors told her Maceo’s leg had to be amputated. Was she being punished for sleeping with Javier before they were married? Was it punishment because of who Javier was?
“You’ve made bad choices before.”
Colton’s words had ripped a hole in her heart. Was he a bad choice?
“Maybe Claudia was right.” She gave a stiff laugh. Lane frowned. “My sister is always telling me I have a heart for the wounded. That I’m a fixer. Says it makes me a great nurse but not a great judge of character—at least when it comes to boyfriends.”
Lane nodded. “I’ve dated a troll or two.”
“Javier was already in prison when Maceo was born. Dealing with his medical issues took up every ounce of my energy those first few years. I had no time to think about dating in between school, work, and taking care of Maceo, and I was fine with that. As lonely and hard as it was, I felt it was the amends I needed to make for my part.” Pecca’s shoulders slumped. “Then I came here and Maceo was doing better, and I watched Ryan fall in love with Vivian and you with Charlie, and I . . . I began to wonder if maybe I had done my time. Ms. Byrdie says that God likes it when we pray for specifics. So I started praying specifically for God to lead me to the right man. I thought that man was Colton.”
“He still could be.”
“Not if my sister is right.”
“Is she? Are you with Colton because you want to fix him?”
“No,” Pecca said. “I’m with him because he’s kind and generous. A little rough around the edges, but I like that because it makes the sweet parts of him so much better. I don’t want to fix him, I want to love him.”
Wow. She wanted to love Colton. The last several weeks she’d been there as he struggled, and all she’d wanted to do was encourage him. When Maceo got that touchdown, it was Colton she wanted to celebrate with. In her fears, when the reality of her mess overwhelmed her, it was thinking of Colton that brought calm back to her life. Pecca swallowed. She didn’t want to love Colton—it was too late for that. She was already in love with him, which made this whole situation worse.
“Have you told him that?”
A stray tear rolled over her cheek. “I don’t know if he’ll listen. He’s so stuck on seeing his arm as a weakness—as this roadblock to the life he once had—it’s like he’s using it as an excuse to stop living. I just wish he knew that I don’t see him as weak. When I look at what he’s going through, how his life was basically stripped from him, and yet he’s still fighting . . . He’s like—like Tony Stark or Bruce Banner.”
Lane shifted back. “Did you just compare Colton to the Avengers?”
Pecca lifted her head, turning to Lane. “We’ve been watching a lot of movies, trying to catch him up.” She sniffled. “But you know what I mean. Tony Stark has that electric heart thing and still wants to marry Pepper Potts.”
A vibration tickled Pecca’s arm, and she looked down at her watch. Claudia was calling.
“It’s my sister.”
Lane sat forward. “Ooh, you better answer that.”
Pecca dug through her purse and retrieved her phone. “Leave everything. I’ll put it away.”
“Thank you.” Lane hugged Pecca before sliding off the couch. Hands on her belly, she waddled to the stairs. At the first step, she paused. “Everything’s going to work out, Pecca. I know it.”
Pecca nodded because the emotion welling in her throat made it impossible to speak. Oh, how she hoped Lane was right.
Looking down at her phone, she wondered why her sister was calling so late. “Hello?”
“I wasn’t sure I was going to catch you up at this late hour.”
The sound of her sister’s voice cut deep into her soul, and Pecca started crying again, muffling her mouth with her hand.
“Are you there?”
Pecca sniffled. “Yeah.” She grabbed another tissue and wiped her nose. “Why are you calling so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you think, I haven’t talked to my sister in ages, so let me call her in the middle of the night and see if she’s awake?”
“No,” Claudia answered defensively. “I’ve been worried about you.”
Claudia had impeccable timing. Of all the nights to be worried. She shook her head, replaying the events of the evening and debating whether to tell Claudia what had happened. What would be the point? It would only worry her, and besides, Charlie had already called Adrian and Pecca assured him she was okay. All she could do now was wait for the medical examiner to identify the man who attacked her. Sheriff Huggins hoped with that information, they’d be one step closer to figuring out who was behind this and how to stop them.
Pecca shivered. She looked over her shoulder and out the window of the café. A squad car was p
arked out there, but she couldn’t see who the deputy was. “Did Adrian tell you about Javier?”
“He left me a message.”
Like usual. Pecca leaned back into the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. Claudia was always so busy that Pecca and the rest of her family ended up having a relationship with her voicemail.
“I’m sorry.”
Claudia’s tender support stripped away Pecca’s disappointment in her, and the ache to have her sister here, sitting next to her, was enough to start her crying again.
“I wish you were here.”
“How’s Mac?”
Pecca rolled her eyes, not surprised by her sister’s aversion to emotion. The fact that she got those two words out of Claudia in the first place was a miracle. Of all the Gallegos children, Claudia was the most reserved, which was strange because she was the third child. Maceo was the only person who could get her to show any emotion.
Part of Pecca didn’t want to give Claudia any details. If she wanted to know about her nephew, she could come see him. Spend some time with him. “He’s fine.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.” Pecca, thinking about Maceo, closed her eyes. “I don’t even know what I would say.”
Several seconds of silence spread between them. Pecca’s thoughts went back to when they were little girls. Well, Pecca was little. Claudia was five years older, and there was a big difference, according to her sister, between a seven-year-old and a preteen. Most days, Claudia made it clear the age difference meant they had nothing in common, but at night there was no escaping. They shared a room, and with only the moon, the stars, and a bedful of stuffed animals as witnesses, Claudia and Pecca would lay awake talking and staring up at their ceiling. Usually, they were making up stories, but sometimes they would really talk. About important things like school or when either of them felt like their parents were being unfair. For Claudia, that was a lot of the time. And they’d also talk about boys.
“Do you really think I fall for the wrong guys?”
More seconds passed before Claudia finally answered. “You have a good heart, Pequeña.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Claudia sighed. “What I said doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It does,” Pecca said, her voice louder than she expected. “It matters because I’m wondering if there’s something wrong with me. Do I make bad choices? Pick men who are wounded so I can try to fix them, only to learn after my heart is broken that it was never going to work anyways?”
“What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
Yes. Pecca opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Colton had crushed her, but she was partly to blame. She had ignored her intuition and let herself cross a line, taking her relationship with Colton where it never should’ve gone.
“I just keep making mistakes.”
“We all make mistakes, but we learn from them. Try to do better the next time.”
“I don’t seem to be learning from mine.”
“Now, I’m being serious. Do I need to come over there and hurt somebody?”
Pecca smiled halfheartedly. “I don’t need you to hurt anybody, but I’d sure love it if you’d come down here for a visit.”
When Claudia didn’t answer right away, Pecca found herself holding her breath. She was already imagining waking up to watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade with a box of Lane’s cinnamon rolls. She’d even learn how to start a fire in her fireplace so they all could snuggle on the couch in their pajamas. Maybe she’d cook the dinner and invite Charlie, Lane, and Noah over. And—
“Work’s been really busy lately.”
Tears stung at the corners of Pecca’s eyes. This night needed to end before she cried herself dry. “Right. Okay.” She wanted to challenge her sister and say, “Even for Thanksgiving? What about Christmas? Didn’t know you were working for Scrooge.” But she didn’t. There was no point.
“Look, I should probably get to bed. I have work in the morning, and it’s been a long night.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Claudia said as though she just realized how late it was. “Give Mac a hug for me.”
“Okay.”
“And if you’re not going to give me a name, then I’ll just remind you that the most important man in your life is Maceo. He’s not a mistake, and you’re a good mom.”
“Thanks.”
“I love you, Pecca.”
Hot frustration tightened the muscles in Pecca’s throat so that she could only manage a weak “You too” before ending the call.
Curling up on the couch, she rested her head against a pillow and let the tears go. Holding them in was only going to make her feel worse, and right now she felt bad enough. Whenever Maceo was having a hard day, she allowed him a limited amount of time to wallow in his misery and then he’d have to decide if he was going to let it hold him back or make him better. So tonight, here on the café’s couch, Pecca was going to allow herself to do the same.
Claudia was right—Maceo was the most important man in her life. And no matter how badly she wanted Colton to be in the running, she had to remain focused on Maceo’s safety. That was one area in her life where she could not afford to make a mistake.
TWENTY-SIX
THE RINGING NOISE shook Colton out of his slump. He swiveled in the desk chair to face his laptop. Someone was trying to open a video chat with him. Using his legs, he scooted across his room and hit a button.
His screen lit up with the most adorable face Colton knew next to the face most of America knew.
“Man, are they not feeding you in Georgia?”
Vincent James’s dark brown eyes narrowed at the screen a second before he had to maneuver it away from the grabby hands of his one-year-old daughter, Daesha.
Colton leaned back in his chair. “Brother, I’m consuming close to four thousand calories a day and can’t keep the weight on.”
“It sounds like rookie camp.”
Daesha babbled, her chubby fingers reaching for Vince’s lips. He smiled, pretending to eat them, much to her giggling delight. Colton still couldn’t believe his friend was a father. It suited him well.
“She’s getting big.”
Vince set the phone in front of him so he could hold up Daesha. She was wearing some kind of pink shirt with ruffles on the bottom. Her little socks looked like ballet shoes. Vince made her legs bounce side to side in a dance.
“I’m teaching her the St. James Fake.”
Colton raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? She going to be a future Mustang?”
“No way,” a feminine voice called out from off screen. A second later, Shaunette, Vince’s wife, walked into view. She leaned over the couch and tickled Daesha’s chunky thighs. “This little girl has the legs of a track star, like her mama.”
Daesha squealed, bringing her hands together. A string of drool dripped from her gummy smile, and Vince made a face.
“Looks like baby girl is ready for her mama to show her some moves.” Vince lifted Daesha overhead, and Shaunette grabbed her.
“Tell Uncle Colt bye-bye.” Shaunette took one of Daesha’s hands and waved it at the screen. “Say, ‘Bye-bye. Come visit us soon.’”
“Nice seeing you, Shaunette.” Colton waved. “Bye, Daesha.”
Shaunette walked off screen, and Vince’s attention was on them for a few seconds before he turned back to the phone and picked it up.
“That little girl is going to be the end of me.”
Colton smiled. “Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?”
“Yeah, but I never thought I’d have it this bad.”
A tiny stab of jealousy pricked Colton’s soul. Vince was living his dream. Colton was proud of him—couldn’t be prouder—but it only made his own situation feel that much worse.
“Hey, man, the reason I was calling was to let you know I talked to my financial advisor and I’ve got the go-ahead for the investment. I’m all in.”
The investment. Right. When Colton began imagining his
future for the ranch as a retreat for veterans and their families, he knew he’d need investors to help him. Asking Vince was humbling, but his friend had always supported the military, and if Colton could get him on board, he figured other investors would see that and want to help too. But last night his vision for the ranch died right alongside the man who attacked him and Pecca.
“Yeah, about that—”
“And guess what? I spoke to a couple other players on the team, and they want to invest too. They asked if maybe they could come out. Have dinner and visit with the families. I know I didn’t ask, but I figure that would be pretty cool, so why not, right?”
“Vince—”
“Oh, hey, did your friend’s little boy like the football? I hope it wasn’t too late?”
“Maceo loved it.” His heart ached. “I appreciate you helping me out.”
“And with his mama?” Vince’s eyebrows danced. “Did she fall into your arms and profess her—”
“Look, Vince,” Colton said. “I wanted to talk to you about the ranch. I, um, don’t think it’s going to happen, man.”
Vince straightened. “Why not?”
The last thing Colton wanted to do was get into the details of last night and the mess he’d made with Pecca. The first thing he did this morning was cancel his sessions with her, because the idea of facing her was too much. His heart was too vulnerable.
“I don’t know. It’s probably a lot of work, and I’m not as far along in my therapy as I’d hoped to be. I think it’s too much. Too soon.”
“What can I do to help? Once my season’s over, I can come to the ranch and help with construction. I can bring some players too. Do you need more money?”
“No.” Colton shook his head. “I don’t need money or anyone helping with construction. It was an idea I was toying with, and now I’ve realized it was too much.”
“Talk to me, Colt.” The corners of Vince’s eyes pinched. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, good.” Colton tried to sound convincing. “It’s just . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I never really thought this would be my life, ya know. It’s been hard trying to imagine a future outside the one I worked for.”
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