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Not Until Forever (Hope Springs Book 1)

Page 17

by Valerie M. Bodden


  “Easy.” Tyler held up his hands. “I know her name. And I like her, I really do. She’s good with the twins. And she’s nice and funny.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “But that doesn’t mean she’s worth risking your heart for again. Just because everything seems perfect right now doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way. And what about the farm? We should at least talk about that before you get carried away and do something irrational.”

  But it wasn’t irrational. It felt like the most rational thing he’d done in months, years maybe—following his heart instead of his duty.

  “Let me ask you something.” Spencer pinned Tyler with his stare. They hadn’t talked much about Julia since Tyler came back. Spencer had wanted to give his brother the space he needed to deal with everything.

  But now, he needed to know.

  “Let’s say Julia showed up here tomorrow. Or next week. Or three years from now. And she told you she was sorry. That she still loved you. Could you really walk away from that second chance?”

  Tyler opened his mouth, then slammed it shut and stalked out of the room.

  “That’s what I thought,” Spencer called after him.

  Sophie laid another Christmas decoration from her grandmother’s collection into the box of items she wanted to keep. The basement was almost empty, and then she’d be done cleaning out the house. She’d have no more excuses to stay in Hope Springs—except her own desire.

  “That nutcracker is too cute.” Vi bounced down the steps after a trip upstairs with a box full of items she was going to sell in her store.

  Sophie held it out to her. “Better start another box for the store.”

  “You don’t want it?” Vi pushed her wild curls out of her face and snapped a ponytail around them.

  “Are you kidding? These things kind of creep me out.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “Anyway, I already have way more stuff than I can fit in my apartment.”

  Unless she didn’t go back to her apartment. If she stayed . . .

  “Hey, Soph, can I ask you something?” Violet’s voice was quiet, serious, as if she’d sensed the direction of Sophie’s thoughts.

  Sophie waited, even though she already knew the question.

  “What are you doing? With Spencer, I mean.”

  Sophie grabbed a snow globe off the shelf and examined it. Inside, two figures stood with their arms around each other in the yard of a cozy-looking house. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

  Vi passed her a sheet of newspaper to wrap the snow globe. “I think you need to figure it out. Before you get his hopes up. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt again.”

  Sophie blinked back a sudden wave of emotion. Didn’t her friend realize she already knew that? Spencer deserved only good things. Only everything. “The last thing I want is to hurt him.”

  “I know.” Vi plucked a glass ornament off the farthest reaches of the shelving unit. “But if you let him think there’s something there, that you—”

  “I still love him, Vi.”

  Vi fumbled the ornament. She caught it just before it smashed to the floor.

  “You do?” Vi’s smile was genuine, but Sophie felt a pang for her friend. Vi had never doubted her love for Cade, would never have chosen to let him go, but she hadn’t been given a choice in the matter.

  “I mean—” Vi set the ornament gingerly into the box. “I knew that, but I was afraid you wouldn’t realize it until it was too late.”

  Sophie could only grin at her friend, who’d always been better at reading her than Sophie was at reading herself.

  “So does that mean you’re staying? You’re not going back to Chicago?”

  Sophie lifted her arms helplessly. She had no idea what it meant. Only that she was open to the possibility. “Maybe?”

  Vi squealed and dove at her for a hug. “I’ll take maybe.”

  Sophie returned the hug, but a new bout of questions assailed her.

  “Uh oh.” Violet pulled back. “I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  “The one that says you’re not sure you’re making the right decision.”

  Sophie gnawed at her bottom lip. “Well, am I? I mean, am I crazy to consider giving up a job a lot of people would kill for, a life in the city I’ve always dreamed of living in, to come back to the one place I’ve always wanted to escape? I mean, what if Spencer doesn’t want— What if he doesn’t feel—?”

  Vi laughed gently. “If you can’t see how Spencer feels, you’re denser than I thought.”

  “Yeah, but—” Sophie ignored her friend’s teasing tone. “I don’t deserve a second chance. Not after how I left things last time.” She passed a hand over her eyes. “I don’t really deserve a second chance with you, either, come to think of it.”

  Vi shook her head. “You know, Soph, for a smart woman, you sure are slow sometimes.”

  “Hey.” But Sophie waited for her to go on.

  “You’ve always worked so hard to prove yourself, to earn everything, to be the best. But some things you don’t have to earn. They’re just . . . gifts.”

  “But—”

  Vi raised a hand to silence her. “That’s the thing, there are no buts. I forgive you and so does Spencer.”

  Sophie looked away and wiped at her eyes. What had she done to deserve such amazing people in her life? According to Vi, nothing, apparently. They were a gift. One she treasured.

  Vi’s arms wrapped her in another hug. “As far as staying, I can’t tell you if it’s the right move or if it’s crazy.” She let Sophie go and wrapped another ornament in tissue paper. “Have you prayed about it?”

  Sophie stared at her friend. How did she always know what to do? Of course she should pray. Had it really been so long since prayer—since God—had been a regular part of her life that she never thought of it anymore?

  “I will,” she promised. She grabbed the tape gun and ran it across the last box. “There. Now I have four days free. What should we do?”

  Vi ogled her. “You should get yourself over to Spencer’s and tell him how you feel.”

  “Oh, but—” In theory, yes, it was what she was dying to do. But now that she faced the possibility of actually doing it—impossible.

  Her phone blared, making them both jump.

  Sophie set down the box she’d been about to haul upstairs. Her heart accelerated. She had no idea what to say to Spencer, and she didn’t want to do it over the phone.

  “Tell him,” Vi chanted as she grabbed Sophie’s abandoned box and started up the stairs.

  Sophie tried to take a calming breath, but it was only halfway in when her eyes fell on the name on her screen.

  Chase.

  She deflated. She should let it go to voice mail. But she’d ignored every single one of his calls since she’d sent him back to Chicago. It was time to face up to him.

  “It’s a good thing you decided to answer this time.” Chase’s voice was hard-edged.

  Sophie’s stomach clenched. She hadn’t exactly expected a warm greeting, but his anger threw her.

  “I’m sorry, Chase. I’ve been busy here and—”

  “I don’t need your apologies. I just called to tell you that you need to be back here tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow? But—”

  “Or don’t bother to come back at all.”

  “What?” Sophie tried to figure out exactly what he was saying. Was he threatening her? “If this is about—”

  “It’s not about anything, Sophie.” Chase’s voice softened. “I got the VP position, and my first job as VP is to call to inform you that company policy states that vacations of more than three days must be approved a month in advance, and since yours wasn’t—”

  Heat flooded Sophie’s chest. “If you think burying my grandmother was—”

  “As we understand it, the funeral was last week. The extra time off this week is a vacation. And your vacation is done.” He hesitated a beat. “So will I see you tomor
row at eight, or should I have Tina pack up your office?”

  Sophie pinched the bridge of her nose. This wasn’t really happening. Sure, she’d been considering leaving Chicago, but it wasn’t a decision she could make this moment, this way. She needed to think it through. Talk to Spencer. Figure out what she really wanted.

  “Sophie?” Chase’s voice held a trace of impatience.

  “I don’t— I don’t know.” She hung up before he could remind her what she’d be giving up if she didn’t return.

  Her hand shook as she dropped the phone to the makeshift workbench Nana had fashioned out of sawhorses and an old countertop. She braced herself against the counter, but it shifted and toppled to the ground with a crash.

  “Everything okay down there?” Vi’s voice was followed by her hurried footsteps on the stairs.

  “Yeah.” Sophie kicked at a disfigured sawhorse as she picked up her shattered phone. “No.”

  Vi moved closer, concern in the lines around her mouth. “Did Spencer not—?”

  “It wasn’t Spencer. It was my boss. He said I have to be back by tomorrow or I’m out a job.”

  “What?” Vi’s hands slammed to her hips. “He can’t do that. He—”

  “Actually, he can.” She’d been so excited to get this job that she’d read through the company handbook four times before her first day. Chase was right about the vacation policy.

  “Okay, then. Why don’t you quit? You said you were thinking about staying anyway, and—”

  “Thinking about. Not going to do it this very minute.” Sophie rubbed at her temples. Why did everything have to get more complicated the minute she thought she had things figured out? “I have a lot to consider. I haven’t even talked to Spencer yet, and—”

  “So go talk to him.” Vi grabbed her arm and dragged her up the basement steps toward the front door.

  “I don’t have time. If I’m going to be back in the office by tomorrow morning, I have to take off right now.”

  “Make time.” Vi’s voice was firm.

  “I can call him when I get to Chicago.” She glanced at the splintered screen in her hand. “Once I get a new phone.”

  The thought left a hole in Sophie’s heart, but what else was she supposed to do? “I can always come back. It’s not like I’ll be stuck there forever.”

  “Sophie Olsen.” Vi’s dark eyes flashed. “We both know if you run back to Chicago, you won’t come home. And sure, you’ll save your job. But you might lose everything that really matters.”

  “I’m sorry, Vi. This isn’t how I wanted to leave.” She leaned in and gave Vi a quick hug, then pushed out the door and jumped into her car before she could see the look of betrayal she was sure Vi wore.

  Chapter 28

  Spencer lifted his shirt to wipe at the sweat dripping from his face. He jogged across the yard toward the house. He should have just enough time to shower before Sophie arrived. It’d taken all afternoon, but everything was finally ready. Using the ATV to haul the bench from his workshop to the hidden blossom tree had been a bear, but it was totally worth it. It was the perfect spot to do this—to carry on the family tradition.

  He’d pack a picnic, they’d take the ATV to the clearing, enjoy dinner together. And then, on the bench he’d made for her, he’d tell her he wanted forever with her.

  “Hey, Spencer.” Dad’s voice from behind caught him as he was about to open the door.

  He turned. Dad was looking so much better it was amazing. Probably thanks in large part to the fact that Mom wouldn’t let them say a word to him about how things were going on the farm or about their decision. Not that they’d made one yet.

  But Spencer hoped to know more after tonight. If Sophie said yes to him—please, Lord, let her say yes—they’d make the decision together. And he’d be willing to do whatever she was comfortable with.

  “What’s with you?” Dad reached the steps and thrust a plastic dish into his hands. “Here, your mother sent this.”

  Spencer took the dish, barely glancing at the cookies inside.

  “Nothing’s with me. What are you doing here?”

  His father pushed past him into the house. “I came to talk to you about the farm.”

  “Yeah, Dad, I haven’t made my decision yet. I might know more after tonight, but . . .” Spencer pushed a hand through his hair.

  “Well, that’s what I came to tell you.” His father grabbed the container back out of Spencer’s hand and snatched a cookie. “Don’t tell your mother.” He took a bite of the cookie and closed his eyes. “Oh, that’s good.”

  Spencer checked the time. Sophie would be here in ten minutes. “Look, Dad, can we talk about this another time? I kind of have plans.”

  Dad sniffed at the air, then moved into the kitchen, like a dog following a scent trail. “Is that fried chicken I smell?”

  “Yeah.” Spencer followed his father, trying not to let his exasperation show. “Sophie’s coming over, so . . .”

  “That’s great. Maybe I’ll hang out. I haven’t seen her in a while. She brought me flowers, you know.”

  Spencer’s mouth worked. Having Dad here when Sophie arrived was not part of the plan. “Dad—”

  His father laughed and winked. “I’m leaving already.” He slugged Spencer on the shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that if you decide not to buy, we’ll be okay. We got an offer today.”

  Spencer blinked at his father. “An offer? I thought you were going to wait to put it on the market until Tyler and I decided.”

  His father held up a hand. “Before you go getting all offended, I didn’t put it on the market. I don’t even know how they heard about it. But it’s a good offer. Really good.”

  “How good?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed. Was this Dad’s way of telling him he’d rather sell outside the family?

  “It’s good. I’m not going to name numbers right now because I don’t want you to feel pressured to meet it if you do decide to buy. But just know that you shouldn’t feel obligated to buy just to help me out.”

  “Who’s the offer from?”

  His father shrugged. “A development firm. Olsen, I think. They want to develop it into a resort or something. Condos, maybe. I don’t remember the exact details.”

  But Spencer had stopped listening. “Olsen?”

  Dad nodded, snatching another cookie. “I’ll go so you can get ready for your date.” At the door, he turned. “Tyler mentioned that you were planning to ask a certain question tonight. Think he wanted me to stop you. But sometimes you have to let go of the past to have the future you dream of.” His sigh was deep. “Just like me and this farm.”

  But Spencer couldn’t think about the past or the future right now. All he could think about was Sophie. He’d been willing to give up everything for her. Only it turned out she’d already made that decision for him. All to make her parents a few bucks.

  Chapter 29

  Sophie couldn’t stop the bouncing of her leg against the car’s seat, the drumming of her fingers on the wheel, the slamming of her heart against her rib cage.

  It’d taken her all of ten minutes to pack up her stuff at her parents’ house. A mix of relief and regret swirled in her gut at the fact that neither had been home. She’d left a note, promising to come back soon. A promise she already doubted she’d keep. Not that her parents would care.

  Vi’s words hadn’t stopped playing through her head since she’d left Nana’s. We both know if you run back to Chicago, you won’t come home. She wanted to deny it, but the past two weeks had felt so much like a dream. Maybe it was best if she kept it that way. Dreams couldn’t disappoint the way real life could.

  Sophie slowed as she drove through the downtown. A young couple stood arm-in-arm on the pier, two children pressed against their legs. She had to look away to keep the wave of longing from overtaking her.

  The clock on the dashboard caught her eye. She was supposed to have been at Spencer’s fifteen minutes ago. She hated the thought of him standing t
here, waiting for her.

  Realizing she’d run away from him again.

  No.

  She couldn’t do that to him.

  Not this time.

  She pressed her foot to the brake, drawing a sharp honk from the car behind her. She lifted a hand in apology, then took a hard left.

  Vi was right. She had to talk to Spencer. See where his head was. Where his heart was. If he wanted her to stay, well, then she wouldn’t have to worry about whether she had a job to go back to.

  And if he didn’t—she could drive all night to get back by morning if she needed to.

  The thought that he might not want her to stay—that he might tell her to hurry back to Chicago because she was too late here—was almost enough to make her drive right past his house. But she was done running from her feelings. She’d see this through, no matter what that meant for her heart—no matter what kinds of feelings she’d have to deal with as a result.

  By the time she pulled into the now-familiar driveway of Hidden Blossom, she felt calmer, more at ease, than she had in months.

  She didn’t know what she was going to say or how Spencer would respond, but she could almost picture his huge smile, the way he’d wrap his arms around her and kiss her in that slow, sweet way he did. The way he’d ask her to stay.

  The second the engine stopped, she sprang out of the car. In her tennis shoes, it was an easy jog across the lawn. The clean air buoyed her as she knocked.

  A moment later, the door pulled open.

  She squinted against the sun that hovered just above the edge of the house’s roofline. She made out his dark shirt and jeans first. “Sorry I’m late. Something came up and—”

  Her words died as her gaze fell on his face. His jaw was set, his eyes hard. He pushed out the door. She took a step to the side as his presence filled the whole porch. The loathing in his expression was more than she could bear, and she shifted her gaze to the edge of the porch, where newly opened azaleas bobbed in the gentle breeze.

  “Hey.” She tried to keep her voice light, but his glare made it hard.

  “You told your parents the farm was for sale.” It wasn’t a question.

 

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