Her eyes jumped to his in surprise. “Yeah. Did they make an offer?” Good thing she hadn’t quit yet. Maybe he wanted to move to Chicago.
“Why would you do that?” He sounded like a hurt little boy, and Sophie moved closer, but he stepped back.
She pursed her lips. Couldn’t he see she’d done him a favor? “I thought it would make things easier for you. I know you have this inflated sense of duty, and I respect you for that. But I didn’t want to see you strap yourself to a place that was about to fail.”
Spencer folded his arms across his chest, a barrier between them. “You didn’t do it for me, Soph.” His voice was quiet but sharp. “You did it for you.”
Sophie shook her head. How could he not understand this was for him?
“No point in denying it. You’ve made it clear plenty of times that your parents’ approval means more to you than anything else. Than me.” He thrust the words at her like knife jabs, and she wanted to hold out a hand like a shield, but he kept going. “You never thought the life of a farmer was good enough. Never thought I was good enough.”
Sophie reared back. Is that what he really thought of her?
Her mind went blank. She opened and closed her mouth, then turned away. It had been a mistake to come. One she’d regret for the rest of her life.
“You want to know the ironic thing, Soph?” Spencer gave a sharp, humorless chuckle. “I was going to ask you what you wanted me to do with the farm. I was going to offer to give it up for you. If that’s what you wanted. All I wanted was a life with you. But you’ve made it clear how you feel about a life with me. So I guess I’m free to make this decision for myself.”
Sophie bit the inside of her cheeks, hard. She should tell him he was wrong. That she’d done it because she loved him. But what if he was right? What if she’d told her parents about the farm for her own selfish reasons?
She ignored the sting at the back of her throat. “I’m sorry, Spencer. For everything. I actually just came by to tell you that I have to get back to Chicago. My boss expects me in the morning. So I’m going to have to cancel our dinner.”
Spencer froze, his eyes locked on her face. She waited, her breath caught in her throat. Even after everything he’d said, some small part of her still hoped he’d ask her to stay.
But when he looked away, she knew.
She stepped to the lawn. “Bye, Spencer.”
Somehow, she managed to keep the tears at bay until his farm was out of sight.
Everything in Spencer told him to go after her.
Everything.
But he resisted. She had betrayed him. She had no interest in a life with him. And she’d been planning to leave all along.
He ripped the door open and barreled into the house.
Inside, the smell of the fried chicken taunted him. He pulled it off the counter and dumped it into the trash.
When he sat, something pressed against his thigh.
He shoved his hand into his pocket and ripped out the ring box. He moved to throw it into the trash, too.
But at the last minute, he pulled his hand back.
Instead, he opened the junk drawer and tossed it in there.
That’s what his proposal would have been to her, anyway.
Chapter 30
Sophie lifted the hair off the back of her neck, seeking any hint of a cooling breeze. The Chicago summer had been unbearably hot, and the concrete jungle offered little shade. She longed to throw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and lounge along the lake, but that wasn’t going to happen.
In the two months since she’d returned, she’d been pulling twice her weight, trying to reestablish her loyalty. Earn a shot at the next promotion, since she’d blown the last one. That’s what happened when you let your heart get in the way.
The only bright spots in her weeks had been Sunday mornings. She’d found a charming little church where she could let go of all the cares of the world for an hour and just focus on worshipping. Last Sunday, after church, she’d found herself confiding to the white-haired pastor that she felt lost. He’d given her the same encouragement Vi had months ago—pray. Only this time, she had listened. She’d spent hours that afternoon walking along the lake. I don’t know your plans, Lord, and it scares me to give over control of my life, my future. Help me to trust you to lead me to the life you know is right for me.
The words of Nana’s journal still burned in her heart, and she’d prayed about that, too—about finding her worth in God and nowhere else.
The words still had a grip on her as she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other now. All week, it had gotten harder and harder to go to work. Everything she saw, everything she did, seemed to be nudging her toward where she really wanted to be.
Like the leaves that hung limp and listless in the humid air. They made her think of the rows and rows of trees in Spencer’s orchard rustling in the cool lake breeze, raining cherry petals around her. When had she been happier?
She pushed through the doors of the office building, shivering in the sudden artificial cold of the air conditioning. As she squeezed onto the nearly full elevator, she pushed down a surge of panic at being in the confined space with so many people. She tried to direct her thoughts to something more pleasant. But they fell on their default: the memories of Spencer that lingered like a kiss.
Stop it. Thinking about Spencer isn’t going to help you move on.
Sophie focused on taking deep breaths until the elevator stopped on her floor. By the time she stepped out, she was calm. Focused. Ready to get to work.
Chase accosted her the moment she stepped through the office doors. He pushed a coffee into her hands, along with a folder bulging with papers.
“There’s a snag in the Hudson project. I need you on it right away. We can’t lose this one.”
Sophie took a swig of the coffee, yanking the mug from her mouth as the hot liquid scalded her tongue. She ignored the burn and opened the folder. But the renderings blurred in front of her. The folder seemed to weigh her down, root her to the spot.
A sudden certainty slammed into her. She didn’t want this life. She’d made it her dream because she’d thought it was what would make her parents proud, earn their approval. But if she was honest with herself, this had never made her happy.
“I’m done.” She said it so softly she wasn’t sure anyone had heard. “I’m done.” She said it louder this time. Like she meant it.
Chase gave her a bemused smile. “What do you mean, you’re done? We’ve got a few more things to do on this one before we can call it finished.”
“No. I mean I’m done. With this. All of it. I quit.”
She set her coffee cup on the nearest desk and spun on her heel. She was at the office door before she realized the enormity of what she was doing. But it was the right thing.
Chase grabbed her elbow as she was about to hit the elevator button. “Don’t do this, Sophie.” She let him lead her to the large bank of windows that overlooked the bustling sidewalk. The crammed street. “You’re upset about something. I can see that. But don’t ruin your career over it.”
Sophie offered a soft smile. She and Chase had worked past the initial awkwardness after her return, and she now considered him not quite a friend—but the closest thing she had to one in the city. She appreciated his concern.
“I’m not upset. I just realized that this”—she gestured around the luxurious office—“it’s not right for me.”
“That’s fine. I get it. But if you walk out like this, you’re never going to find a position with another firm. Stay on until you get another job. I’ll write you a recommendation.”
Sophie shook her head. “You don’t understand. I don’t want another job. This isn’t what I was made to do. I only did it because—” She paused. How did she explain? “Well, it’s a long story, but let’s just say I’m not passionate about it the way you are.”
Chase wrinkled his nose. “So what will you do?”
Sop
hie bit her lip. The truth was, she wasn’t sure. But for some reason that didn’t bother her. “Go home for a while. See if there might be something for me there.” Or someone.
Chase studied her for another minute, as if unsure what to make of her. Then he leaned over and gave her a quick, semi-awkward hug. “Take care of yourself.”
Sophie stepped onto the elevator and offered a small wave.
She may not know what she wanted to do with her life.
But she knew who she wanted to share it with.
If it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 31
Spencer jiggled little William on his lap as he signed his name for the twentieth time.
“Just a few more papers,” their banker said. Spencer groaned. He’d also said that forty-five minutes ago. But he was grateful the man had been willing to come out to the house to do the closing paperwork. He couldn’t imagine trying to corral these two energy balls in a bank.
He passed the paper to Tyler so his brother could add his signature.
“You’re sure about this?” Spencer studied Tyler for any signs of a change of heart.
Tyler snatched the paper out of Lucas’s grabbing hand and gave him a clean sheet and a crayon instead. “Would you stop asking me that? I said I was sure.”
“Sorry.” Spencer tapped his pen against the table. “It’s just that you used to be so dead set against this place. I want to make sure you’re not doing this out of some sense of obligation or something.”
“Have you ever known me to do anything out of a sense of obligation?” Tyler signed his name next to Spencer’s on the closing documents. “That’s your territory.”
Spencer grunted as he signed his name again. But the truth was, he wasn’t doing this out of any “inflated sense of duty” as Sophie had accused him. He really did love this land and the legacy it represented. He wanted it to be here to pass on to his children someday. Assuming his heart ever recovered enough from Sophie to meet someone else and start a family. But even if he didn’t, at least it would go to his nephews.
“Anyway.” Tyler grabbed the next form to sign. “This place has a way of growing on a person.”
“Some people, maybe,” Spencer muttered.
His brother was watching him, but Spencer concentrated on scanning the forms in front of him.
“Are you just going to make all these veiled references to Sophie for the rest of our lives without ever actually talking about her?”
Spencer shrugged. It seemed to be working for him so far.
“You should call her.” Tyler slid another form back to the banker.
Spencer snorted. “Says the guy who told me not to propose again. Learn to quit when you’re ahead.”
“Yeah, about that.” Tyler scrubbed a hand across his buzzed hair. “I may have been wrong. I was projecting my own feelings about Julia onto your situation. And anyway, you were right. If I had another chance, I’d take it.” Tyler nudged Spencer’s phone closer to him. “Just call. It’s clear you’re miserable without her.”
“I’m not miserable.” He scratched his signature across yet another form. Would they never be done with this blasted paperwork? He had other things to do. Namely, escape his brother’s interrogation.
Tyler let out a disbelieving humph. “Boys, is your uncle Spencer happy?”
Both boys looked at him. Ridiculous. Now he was being psychoanalyzed by three year olds?
Lucas shook his head, his expression somber. “Aunt Sophie gone.”
William nodded his agreement. “When coming back?”
Tyler cleared his throat. His grip on the pen in his hand tightened. Spencer understood. It was the same question the twins had asked about their mother every day for the first month and a half they’d been here.
The banker coughed lightly. “Last one.” As soon as they’d signed, he held out a hand to shake each of theirs. “Congratulations.” In spite of their argument, Spencer grinned at Tyler. They were really doing this. Together.
Spencer ushered the banker to the front door, thanking him again for making the process relatively painless. If only he had a series of papers Spencer could sign to guarantee he’d get over Sophie.
He’d been working at it all summer. But with no success. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her expression when she’d turned away from him that last time. She’d looked so . . . broken. That was the only word for it.
Only days before that, he’d promised his love for her was unconditional. But the moment she’d done something he didn’t like—didn’t approve of—he’d sent her away. What kind of example of Christ-like love was that?
“Hey, you got any tape?” Tyler called from the kitchen. “Lucas wants to wrap up his picture for grandma and grandpa.”
“Yeah, check the junk drawer.” Spencer gave the land—their land—one last look before closing the door. If anyone had told him ten years ago he’d be buying the farm with his brother—not to mention living with him—he’d have laughed in their face. He’d all but written Tyler off when he left. But it had only taken two months for his brother and nephews to find a place in his life. Even if his house sometimes felt overcrowded and not so much his own anymore. He couldn’t imagine things any other way.
“Ah, Spencer?” Tyler’s voice carried to him as he made his way to join them in the kitchen.
“Yeah?” But he froze in the kitchen doorway.
Tyler held a little black box. He’d opened it and was staring at the ring inside.
Spencer snatched the box out of Tyler’s hand, opened the cupboard under the sink, and chucked the box in the trash can there.
But Tyler pushed past him and grabbed it out. He held the box toward Spencer, but Spencer refused to take it.
“Look, Spencer.” Tyler closed his hand around the ring box. “Maybe it’s time to put your pride aside. You clearly still love her. And if you wait, eventually it will be too late.”
“It’s already too late.” Spencer spat the words at his brother. Why couldn’t Tyler learn when to butt out? “I’ve just committed myself to this farm. You think that’s the kind of life she can accept?”
“I think—” Tyler set the ring box on the counter. “I think if she’s the woman you’ve made her out to be, then none of this”—he gestured at their surroundings—“will matter to her. I think you’ve convinced yourself you can’t give her the life you think she wants because it means you don’t have to put yourself out there. But what if her lifestyle isn’t what she cares about? What if all she cares about is you?”
Spencer stared at the box.
Tyler meant well.
But he was wrong about what Sophie wanted.
Wasn’t he?
“Hello?” The gruff male voice on the other end of the phone sounded irritated.
And no wonder. This was the third time in a row Spencer had called. He couldn’t make himself believe that Sophie had moved on so quickly, that he’d really meant that little to her.
Hearing a man answer her phone just once should have been enough to convince him, but apparently he was a slow learner.
“Sorry, wrong—”
“Look, buddy, who are you looking for?” The dude sounded big, his voice rough and deep. Not at all the smooth, suave voice of the kind of man he’d expect Sophie to be with.
Spencer gritted his teeth. What else did he have to lose at this point? “Sophie Olsen?”
“Never heard of her.”
Spencer huffed in disbelief. “This is her number.”
“No, this is my number.” The guy’s voice softened. “It’s a new number, so maybe . . .”
She had a new number. Which meant she wasn’t with this guy. It might not be too late.
But as Spencer clicked off the phone, his elation dissipated.
If she had a new number, he had no way to contact her.
He rubbed his temples. What now?
He’d spent every moment of the week since Tyler had dug the ring out of the junk drawer praying about w
hat to do. He’d been so sure this was God’s answer. Contact her. Tell her he loved her. Ask her to give him another chance.
But now he couldn’t even find her.
He picked up his phone and did a search for development firms in Chicago. But there were so many. What had she said the name of it was? Something with a heart in it, he was pretty sure.
He scrolled through the listings until he came to Heartland. Could be right.
Without letting himself think, he dialed the number.
“Heartland,” a smoothly professional voice answered. What had he expected? That she’d answer her own phone?
“Yes.” He tried to sound official. “Sophie Olsen, please.”
A pause on the other end. He could hear papers shuffling and wished he could push himself through the telephone to see what was going on there. To see Sophie in her office.
“I’m sorry. There is no Sophie Olsen at this firm.”
Spencer’s thoughts spun. Another strike out. “I’m sorry I must have the wrong— I thought—” Why was he explaining himself to a complete stranger?
“A Sophie Olsen used to work here.” The secretary’s voice was almost conspiratorial. “She quit a few days ago.”
Spencer pulled at his hair. He was so close. “Could you tell me how to contact her?”
“I’m sorry, I have no forwarding number. But I didn’t get the impression she had another job lined up. I think she said something about moving.”
Spencer’s heart stopped. “Okay, thank you.” He hung up without waiting for a reply. That was the end, then. If she was moving, there was no way he’d ever find her.
Unless—
He picked up his phone and scrolled to Violet’s number.
“Hey, Spencer.” Violet sounded wary. She’d spent the past two months trying to convince him that Sophie had been ready to stay in Hope Springs if he’d asked. But he hadn’t believed her—or hadn’t wanted to, not if it meant he’d been the one to ruin their chance of being together.
Last time Violet had brought Sophie up, Spencer had bitten her head off and said not to mention her again.
Not Until Forever (Hope Springs Book 1) Page 18