by Maisey Yates
“If it’s so fine then why are you hiding under the covers and crying into your pillow?” Pru asked.
“I’m not crying.”
“You are. Your voice is all scratchy and thick.” Kit was here as well.
Wonderful. That was all she needed, the whole damn team.
And she knew them. They weren’t going to go away unless she told them what the problem was.
Charity sighed and let go of the pillow, pulling the covers off her head. “Yes, it’s Garrett. He said he didn’t want a relationship and I agreed. And then he said we should end it. And I said that was a good idea. So it’s over. Happy now?”
Hope was looking very concerned at the end of her bed, while Pru stood beside it, her arms folded. Kit leaned in the doorway, examining her critically.
“You don’t look like you think it’s a good idea,” Kit said. “You’re still crying.”
“I’m not crying.” Charity tried to ignore the tears streaming down her face. “It was fun and casual and now it’s over. The end.”
“Huh.” Pru stared at her, frowning. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Charity put her hands over her face. The “no, of course not” was in her mouth, right there. Just waiting for her to say it. But it wouldn’t come out.
Because somewhere inside, she knew it wasn’t true. That somewhere, somehow, she’d fallen in love with Garrett Roy. Or maybe it wasn’t that she’d fallen in love with him. Maybe it was that she’d never fallen out of it.
Maybe she’d always loved him, from the moment she’d seen him in the yarn store, helping out behind the counter. Or maybe even before that, the very first moment he’d walked into the kitchen in her dad’s house that first Tuesday, full of insolent bad-boy swagger.
But he wasn’t a bad boy. Not underneath. He was calm and level and he was caring. People mattered to him. That was why he’d given up the circuit, because his gran had mattered more than money or fame or adrenaline rushes...
But not you.
No. Not her.
“Yes,” she said hoarsely. “I think I do love him.”
“Well, no surprises there,” Kit muttered.
But Hope reached out and took her friend’s hands in hers and pulled her in for a hug. Charity let herself relax into her friend for a moment, because a hug always made things better. “You need to tell him, Char,” she said quietly.
“How will that help?” Charity pushed herself away, wiping her tears from her cheeks. “He doesn’t want a relationship. He said he has to focus on the ranch and he doesn’t want me choosing to stay here for him when I’m doing it to make him happy.”
“He’s got a point,” Pru said. “I don’t know if I’d want to have a relationship with someone who’s only choosing to stay to make me happy. I’d want them to stay because they wanted to be with me.”
Charity swallowed. “I don’t know, Pru. I don’t know if I want to stay.”
Pru’s gaze was uncomfortably sharp. “Are you staying, though, Char? I thought you just took some time off for a break.”
It was clear that Pru had opinions on Charity’s “break” and from the looks on the others’ faces, so did the rest of them.
“I was getting panic attacks,” Charity heard herself say, the words coming out of her before she could stop them. “Some days I couldn’t even step into the ER. I’m on stress leave and I... I don’t want to go back.” Her voice, already thick, thickened even further. “I don’t want to. I want to stay here. But if I don’t go back, I’ll be letting Dad down and you guys down and—”
“Char,” Kit interrupted gently, stepping into the room. “You’re not going to let anyone down. Why didn’t you tell us what was going on?”
Charity wiped her face again, feeling dreadful. “I...didn’t want anyone to know. I wanted everyone to think I had it together, because if you all thought I had it together then maybe I did.”
Pru shook her head. “No one has it together. Everyone’s a mess. You know that, right?”
“And you don’t have to have it together for us,” Hope said sympathetically. “We love you just as you are. And if you don’t want to go back to medicine, then don’t.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want anymore.”
“I think you do,” Kit said, quietly. “I think you know in your heart what you want. I think you’ve always known. That’s why you left Seattle to come here. You came back for a reason.”
Her chest felt hollow and sore, and her head ached. “I don’t know what that reason is.”
“You do,” Hope said. “You came because you want to be happy. But that’s a decision you have to make for yourself.” An oddly knowing smile curved her mouth. “Don’t be scared to make it, Char. It’s worth it, believe me.”
Charity stared at her friend and the hollow feeling shifted and changed.
Was it fear that was preventing her from making that decision? From making that choice?
Of course it is. That’s why you never called your dad to tell him you were having problems. You’re afraid of what he’ll say if you tell him you don’t want to go back to medicine.
A wave of certainty went through her then as something inside her fell gently into place, like a key fitting in a lock, bringing with it a flood of relief.
No, she didn’t want to go back. She never wanted to go back. What she wanted was to stay in Jasper Creek and open her yarn store. That was all she’d ever wanted to do. And she wanted Garrett Roy too. For herself, and no one else.
And yes, she was afraid of having to break the news to her dad. Afraid of disappointing him. But what Garrett had told her came back to her, that she had to live her life for herself, she couldn’t go on living other people’s and it was true.
She’d been telling herself a lot of lies about how it would make her dad happy. It wasn’t that at all. It was because she was afraid that if she didn’t do what he wanted, he wouldn’t love her. Because of what he’d lost when she was born.
But if there was one thing she knew about her dad, it was that he also wouldn’t want her to be unhappy. He’d want her to do what was right for her.
And what was right for her was Garrett Roy.
Charity threw back the covers. “Pru, can I borrow your truck?”
“Atta girl,” Hope said, grinning.
Kit raised a brow. “Going to see Garrett, I assume?”
Charity was already out the door, not wanting to wait another second.
“Hey,” Pru called after her. “You still haven’t used that slip I gave you in the bar the night you did shots. About asking for his advice.”
Charity snatched the keys from the hallway table.
She already knew exactly what she wanted to ask.
* * *
GARRETT DIDN’T HIT the bottle even though he wanted to. He sat in the darkness of his living room and stared at nothing instead. There was an ache in his chest where his heart should have been and he knew what the issue was.
No matter how many times he told himself he felt nothing for Charity Golding, it didn’t change the feeling in his heart. As if something had been torn out of it.
Her.
He’d told himself that ending it was the best thing for both of them. That she couldn’t stay for him, couldn’t change her life for him. That he wasn’t worth the sacrifice.
But he knew that was a lie. And the biggest lie of all was that he didn’t want to hold her every day until the end of time.
Every instinct he possessed was telling him to go after her, but he wasn’t going to. She had to make the choice herself. He couldn’t be around to influence it. And if she wanted to deny them both the chance at happiness, then who was he to convince her otherwise?
“Be happy, Garrett,” his grandmother had told him once. “If you don’t want to be your f
ather, then the easiest way to do it is to be happy.”
He hadn’t understood that at the time, but now he did. Now he’d had a taste of what happiness meant.
So why are you sitting here in the dark? You have a chance at happiness. Take it.
But how could he? When he wouldn’t ever know if Charity was staying for him or for herself?
Does it matter? That’s just another excuse.
Garrett closed his eyes even though it was dark already; the truth overwhelmed him. Because of course it was just another excuse.
It wasn’t about whether he would disappoint her, whether he’d let her down. Whether he was good enough for her or worth making sacrifices for. It wasn’t even about her staying for him or for herself.
It was about love. He was afraid that somehow, his love wouldn’t be enough for her the way it had never been enough for his dad. Not enough for him to give up the circuit. Not enough to make him stay.
He’d always left, and he’d always taken a piece of Garrett’s heart with him.
And now he was afraid that Charity would do the same. That he would love her, but it wouldn’t be enough to keep her. That eventually she’d change her mind about what she wanted and she’d leave. And he’d be left here with nothing. Again.
There was hammering on his door.
He was very tempted not to answer it, but the person hammering wouldn’t stop.
Cursing, Garrett got up from the chair and went to the front door and pulled it open.
Charity stood on the front porch, the twilight shining in her hair.
Shock pulsed through him and he found himself gripping the door handle so hard it was a wonder he didn’t crush it. “What are you doing here?”
Her chin lifted, her eyes blue as the sky, holding his. “I need some advice. I’m in love with this guy and I want to tell him that I want to stay with him. That for a long time I’ve been living someone else’s life, but now I’ve made the decision to live my own, and I very much want him to be a part of that. Except, I don’t know if he’ll believe me.” She took a step toward him. “How do I make him see that I’m telling the truth?”
Garrett went very still, unable to move. Unable to breathe. “Charity.” Her name was a harsh sound, scraped and raw, the only sound he could make. “Why are you here?”
She took another step. “I told you. I want to stay with you. And if you say no, if you don’t want me, it won’t be fine. It will be awful. And I’ll shout and scream and weep. I’ll do everything I can to convince you to take me back, and not because it’s what you want to hear, but because I’m in love with you, and I don’t think I can live without you.”
Only his grandmother had ever chosen him. His mother hadn’t and certainly his father had never turned up on his doorstep saying that he’d decided to give up the circuit and stay for Garrett’s sake.
But here was Charity Golding doing exactly that. Telling him that she was in love with him, that she wanted to be with him.
He gripped the door handle even harder. “What about your career?”
“It was never mine. It was what Dad wanted for me and I just wanted to make him happy. But...he always wanted what was best for me too, and I think that what’s best for me now is not back in Seattle.” She took another step, coming so close he could feel her warmth. “It’s here, Garrett. It’s Jasper Creek. It’s the yarn store. And it’s you.” She stared up at him, her soul shining in her eyes. “Will you have me?”
Garrett felt the hand that had clenched around his heart release, allowing him to breathe and his heart to fill with the feeling that had been there ever since he’d first looked into Charity Golding’s blue eyes.
“Be happy,” his gran had told him.
And because he wasn’t his father and never had been, that was what he chose.
“Yes,” he said roughly and opened his arms.
She walked straight into them and lifted her mouth to his.
* * *
A LONG TIME LATER, up in his bed, she lay beneath him, bright and beautiful and all his, under the quilt his grandmother had made for him.
“So what was your advice? You never answered,” she said.
Garrett blinked, his head still ringing from the pleasure they’d shared. “What advice?”
“When I first got here. Remember?”
Oh yes, that.
Garrett smiled and pulled her close. “My advice, doc? My advice is that you stay here with me in Jasper Creek. That you live with me here on this ranch. That you open the yarn store. And that one day you marry me.”
Charity spread her hands on his chest, her smile lighting up his world. “That’s your advice, huh?”
“Sure. And it’s backed up by science.”
“Science, right.” She pressed her palm against his heart that beat for her and her alone. “Give me one good reason, cowboy.”
That one was easy.
Garrett looked down into her blue eyes, and though he could see his past there, he could also see his future. And it was glorious.
He smiled. “Because I love you, Charity Golding.”
* * *
How to Love Him
Nicole Helm
“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’”
—C.S. Lewis
For Maisey, Megan and Jackie, who’ve never made me feel like the only one.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
Pru’s Story
“THAT IS A violation of house rules, Prudence Riley. Take a slip.”
Pru opened her mouth to argue with her friend, but arguing about violations was cause for another violation, and Pru was about at the end of her rope for embarrassing encounters with the male species of Jasper Creek, and she’d only been home for two weeks.
So she kept her mouth firmly shut, stomped over to the big jar of truly horrendous vintage dating advice, and picked out a slip of paper. “‘Wear a Band-Aid on your face. People always ask what happened.’” Pru threw her hands up in the air. “You can’t be serious?”
“Oh, but we are,” Kit said, smiling.
“I’ve got Band-Aids!” Charity zoomed off.
Pru tapped her foot, trying to keep her irritation at a low simmer. The slip idea had seemed like grand fun in theory when they’d first come up with it in an effort to cheer up Hope after her failed wedding, but enacting the stupid tips had turned out to be very not fun.
But she’d made an agreement. A promise. No matter how irritated she was, or how much she blustered, she’d never go back on what she’d agreed to. Pru would do anything for her friends.
And if she’d had any sort of thought that, like Hope, she’d let the universe take over, it had been quickly eradicated by the reality of the situation.
Besides, she liked to complain. It made her feel more in control of those mushy feelings of love and loyalty and junk.
“Here,” Charity said, going so far as to unwrap the bandage for her, medical professional that she was.
“It has flowers on it.”
“I know. Aren’t they cute?”
“Not on my face they’re not.”
“Think of it like jewelry,” Kit suggested.
Pru would not think of it like jewelry. The only jewelry she ever wore was the compass necklace, and only because of their childhood promise.
“It was bad enough when I had to wear Hope’s wedding dress all day.” Trying to work in a fluffy white mon
strosity had been an exercise in pointlessness. And she was still mad about it and all the strange, jangling emotions wearing a wedding dress had brought up. “Why does mine always involve putting something on my body?” she demanded, slapping the Band-Aid on her cheek.
“Luck of the draw. Or maybe fate knows exactly what you need. Besides, I was the one who got the thing about fake tripping.”
Pru narrowly resisted telling Hope what she thought of that. She would not end up with another one of these stupid slips this week. She was vowing it here and now. Whatever impulses she had to lock down, she would.
“I’m headed to the store. I’m not waiting around for you slowpokes.” She grabbed her keys and started for the door. “Some friends you are.”
“The best!” Kit shouted after her.
Which meant that as much as Pru might want to hold on to her anger, she was grinning by the time she got to her truck.
This wasn’t what she’d planned for herself when she’d been a kid having sleepovers with her three best friends. But it was almost as good—maybe even better—living under the same roof at the old Gable farmhouse which Pru had always thought was particularly pretty and magical looking—not that she’d ever admit that either.
She took a moment to look at it. The white against the gold-tinted mountains in the background, the cozy porch that was perfect for morning cups of coffee and late-night stargazing. The redbud tree waving gently in the yard just inside the little gate.
There was a warmth to it. A sense of home, even though it was temporary.
She knew she was very lucky, even if she preferred grumbling over gratitude.
Maybe staying here wasn’t permanent, but considering the four of them hadn’t been in the same state for years now, living together was amazing.
Pru had always avoided roommates. In college, she’d worked an extra job just to afford a dorm room all to herself after her disastrous freshman year sharing with a philosophy major who’d always asked about Pru’s feelings.