by Julia London
Stacy’s bottom lip quivered. “Are you kidding me?”
Ella shook her head.
Clutching her purse, Stacy twirled around and marched into Ella’s bedroom and slammed the door. “That’s my bedroom,” Ella said after her, but fell on the couch, knowing Stacy wouldn’t come out until she was ready.
The thing that sucked the most about this was not the fear of what could happen. Fear was something Ella had lived with all her life. What sucked the most was Luca. She had begun to believe that she could really have something with him, but Stacy was right—she couldn’t escape her past or who she was. Neither could he. It was better to end it now, before she was in too deep. Before this thing between them seared her and left a lasting scar. And it was better that she not see him abandon her, because that would be the death of her. She couldn’t bear that much hurt. Better to get ahead of it.
He would hate her, but he’d get over her.
Ella wasn’t sure she could say the same for herself.
Chapter Twenty-eight
She could have predicted Stacy wouldn’t leave that night. She did her fair share of stomping around to make sure Ella knew she was mad that Ella wasn’t being as understanding as Stacy thought she ought to be. Ella didn’t have time to care about Stacy—she was living on a razor’s edge, waiting for the sound of sirens and then patrol cars to roar up to her house and surround them.
She was due to go to work the next day but called in sick.
“You’re just raising suspicion,” Stacy said. “You have to act normal or everyone will think you’re hiding something.”
“Okay, hold that thought,” Ella said. “I just need to take some notes here about how to act when I’m literally hiding something.”
Stacy glared at her.
“I can’t think,” Ella said. “It’s bad enough that I’m trying to do some bookkeeping while you’re here. I’ve probably made all kinds of mistakes.”
“Well, pardon me for breathing!” Stacy snapped.
When they weren’t arguing, Stacy was practicing her singing, as if she had nothing to fear. Only Ella.
But the sheriff didn’t come.
The next day, Ella made herself go to work. Byron looked at her strangely, as if he couldn’t quite make her out, then shrugged and handed her some files. She worked at her desk, but every car that pulled into the parking lot was a cop. Every person who walked past the door was Sheriff Hurst.
She drove home in a mood, her thoughts full of doubts and questions about how in the hell she was going to get rid of Stacy and that damn gun. So much so that she didn’t notice Luca’s truck parked under the oak tree until she was right up on it. She panicked. If he’d seen Stacy, it was the beginning of the end. He was sitting on the porch, his elbows on his knees.
Ella cautiously stepped out of her car and looked around, not entirely certain that Luca hadn’t brought Sheriff Hurst here with him. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” He wasn’t smiling. He looked dark as he stood up from the porch. “You could really use some porch chairs.”
He didn’t sound angry. Maybe disillusioned? “Have you been waiting long?” she asked.
He shook his head.
Ella made herself walk around the front of her car. She hated being caught off guard—her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Luca had been a constant thought the last few days, swimming around the edges of her consciousness. She’d been so stressed about being caught hiding Stacy that she hadn’t been able to think past missing him.
“I thought I might have heard from you by now,” he said. “And when I didn’t, I came to see if everything is okay. That must be some headache.”
“What?”
He lifted his chin slightly. “You said you had a bad headache.”
“Oh.” She unthinkingly pressed two fingers to her forehead. She’d forgotten what she’d said; her mind had been a jumble. “I’m sorry—I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
His hard expression softened. “Is there anything I can do?”
Oh, how she wished he could help. But she wouldn’t dare tell him. She wouldn’t risk him going to his friend, the sheriff. She wouldn’t dare risk making him a party to this awful, horrible mess she was in. She shook her head and tried to smile. “It’s nothing.”
Luca stepped down from the porch. “Well, it’s not nothing, Ella. What’s going on? We had a great date. We’ve had a great month. And then suddenly, you disappear on me. You practically ghosted me.”
“I know,” she said, nodding, and pushed her hand through her hair trying to think of how to say it. “I guess I’ve been trying to avoid this. Luca . . . I can’t go to your fund-raiser.” Her voice sounded pathetically small and weak. “I can’t . . . do this.”
Luca’s face paled. She had stunned him. “Why not?”
“I just can’t,” she said. “It’s not me. I don’t belong there, I—”
“Will you stop with that horseshit?” he said sharply. “You belong there. You belong anywhere you want to be. I won’t accept that as a reason, Ella. So, is it me? Have I offended you?”
“No!” she insisted. “Luca, you’ve been amazing.” He’d been so amazing that he was wrapped around her heart, which made this all the more painful. “But I warned you, Luca. I told you I wouldn’t fall.”
He looked sick, as if she’d kicked him in the groin. “So the takeaway is that the last few weeks with us have meant nothing to you, huh? It’s all been fun and games?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to, Ella,” he said coolly. “It’s obvious I don’t mean to you what you mean to me.”
“We had a great time—”
He threw up a hand between them to silence her. He swallowed. Twice. “I laid everything on the line with you. I have told you everything about me. Everything. I’ve done everything I know to show you that I care about you. I thought we had something special. If you don’t want it, then for fuck’s sake, say so. But you’ve been sending so many mixed signals I don’t know which way is up.”
She felt the first tear slide down her face. She’d read a long time ago that in order to understand true love, you had to once be broken by it and had to once do the breaking. She was doing the breaking, but she felt broken. “I’m just not good at being part of a we.”
His expression shuttered. He glowered at her, unsatisfied with her response, as well he should be. He stepped around her and walked to his truck.
“Luca?”
When he reached the driver’s door, he turned around and pointed at her. “I love you, Ella Kendall. Is that what you needed to hear? I love you.”
Well, there it was, the cleaving of her heart in two.
“I don’t know why I do, particularly given the way you’ve treated me the last few days. I don’t know what the fuck I will do now, but you need to know that I have fallen in love with you. Personally, I think you are so afraid of letting anyone get close to you that you can’t see over all the damn obstacles you keep putting in the way.”
“That’s not true,” she insisted.
“Deny it, then. Tell me that you’re not fearful that if you love me, too, I will walk away. Tell me the reason you refuse to fall is because you’re afraid you will end up in pieces.”
How was he so perceptive? She put her hands behind her head and tried to think.
“Everyone fears that. But it doesn’t stop most people from going for it because the alternative is so good. I’m telling you—I’ve been telling you—that I’m not walking away from you. If you fall, I am here to catch you. I will catch you, and I will hold you close.”
“Luca, I—”
But he wasn’t finished. He took a step toward her. “You know who the player is here, Ella? It’s you. You play with people’s feelings. You say you’re not into me, and you kiss me, and you make love to m
e, and then you push me away without any reason.” He laughed bitterly. “And I’m the stupid fool who keeps taking it. I keep wearing my heart on my sleeve. And by the way? Your timing is the worst. In two days, I am going to get up on a stage in the biggest classroom I’ve ever been in, and I’m going to read. I really hoped you’d be there so that you could see all that I have worked to achieve, but more than that, because I need you. I want someone who believes in me to be there, rooting for me, because I promise you, everyone else in that crowd will be waiting for me to falter. But standing here, right now, I’m glad you won’t make it. You don’t deserve to see me.”
He was right. He was so right. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Luca. I don’t deserve it.”
He made a sound of disgust. “Have fun feeling sorry for yourself,” he said, and got in his truck.
She watched him drive away, the dust billowing up in a great white cloud so that she couldn’t see the vehicle. She finally waved the dust away and turned around.
The front door opened, and Stacy stepped halfway out of it. “Are you okay?” she called to Ella.
The last person Ella wanted to talk to at that moment was Stacy. She ignored her and walked to the back of her house and down to the fence where the horses would come in the afternoon. They weren’t around, naturally. Neither was Buddy. Only Priscilla wandered over, pausing to sniff at the chickens.
The horses. Ella was just like them. Wild and feral, skittish and distrustful. They’d been left to fend for themselves, and so had she most of her life. And it had cost her a love.
She had no one to blame but herself. Stacy may have been the catalyst, but Ella had been convinced from the moment she’d laid eyes on Luca that she wasn’t worthy, and she’d willed their relationship to end this way. She was incapable of tearing down the walls around her heart.
The sobs began to rumble from somewhere deep in her body, erupting from her mouth and pushing her to her knees. She hated herself right now, but she didn’t know how to stop being who she was. She didn’t know how to tear down her walls.
Chapter Twenty-nine
On the afternoon of the fund-raiser, there were so many people at Three Rivers Ranch running around and setting up tents and bars that Cordelia went to Charlie’s grave. This was not her event—Hallie had made that very clear, taking over in a way that reminded Cordelia of herself many years ago, and annoying her as she had surely annoyed Dolly. Actually, what Hallie said was, “Thanks, Mom, for your suggestions. But I think you would be more helpful in your room right now.”
Cordelia knew when she wasn’t wanted, so she’d walked up the hill.
She had installed a folding lawn chair that she’d picked up at Walmart last week. Cordelia had never been in a Walmart before then and, frankly, was amazed at all Walmart had to sell. Everything a person could want was there, brightly crammed into what seemed like five hundred separate aisles. She’d walked up and down those aisles like a wanderer, picking up things, examining them, putting them down.
When she left, she had a lawn chair, a bird feeder, and a cooler that also acted as an end table.
Cordelia was seated in her lawn chair with a drink in hand. A screwdriver, if anyone was interested. So shoot her, already—it had been a stressful week and a stressful day, and she was allowed to self-medicate in the middle of the day if she wanted to. “Who’s going to stop me?” she asked Charlie.
Predictably, Charlie didn’t answer.
She watched men moving around their expansive lawn, setting up what looked like circus tents. Fitting. Tonight was going to be quite the event, apparently—Hallie said they were expecting three hundred people.
“You know what? I’m proud of Luca,” Cordelia said, and sipped her drink. “Yes, I know, I’ve been hard on him, I don’t need you to tell me that. But you and I both know Luca always needed a push.”
She could almost hear Charlie telling her to go easy on him. He’s a free spirit, Delia. He has a big heart.
“He’s worked hard for this,” she said. “Hallie told me he’s going to make a speech from prepared remarks.” She got a little misty-eyed. Her son had suffered ridicule all his life, and she had to admit, it was a ballsy thing to do to stand up there and attempt to read his notes. She sipped more of her drink and waited for Charlie to say, “I told you so.”
“Delia?”
Cordelia was so startled she spilled her drink on her leg and the grass as she jerked around. She put her hand over her heart and closed her eyes. “You almost killed me, George,” she said.
“Sorry.” George Lowe had been the family’s personal attorney since the day she married Charlie. He wasn’t much older than her. He looked it, though, huffing his way to the top of the hill.
“I don’t have an extra seat,” she pointed out.
“That’s okay,” George said, and braced his arm against the tree and breathed heavily for a moment.
“You should go to the gym,” Cordelia observed.
“Yeah, I probably should,” he agreed.
“So what’s up?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Just thought I’d check on you. Ms. Dolly said you were spending an awful lot of time up here.”
“Yep,” she said. “All I need is a fridge and I’m all set.” She lifted her glass in a mock toast. She was not going to entertain any discussion about it. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that it was weird that she came up here and talked to her dead husband. Her dead estranged husband. But there were so many things that she never got to say.
“Hallie asked me to tell you that it’s time for you to get ready,” George said.
“When did she become the boss of me?” she asked curiously. “Was there a ceremony that I wasn’t invited to? Someone obviously passed her the torch because she has been free with her advice lately.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Was it you, George?”
“You know I wouldn’t do that, Delia. I think maybe she cares,” he said kindly.
“Mmm-hmm.” Cordelia stood up and took the arm that George offered her, looping her hand into the crook of his elbow.
As they started down the path, George said, “I want you to know that I’m going to make a pledge to Luca’s foundation tonight.”
Cordelia looked at him. “You are?”
George smiled. “I believe in that kid.”
“He’s not a kid,” Cordelia said. That was her issue with Luca—he wasn’t a kid anymore, he was a man, and he ought to have a man’s job.
“No, I guess not,” George agreed. “But he knows what he wants and he’s going for it. He’s been studying.”
Cordelia was reminded of what she’d said to Luca that night in the family room, and she felt a sharp pain in her side. Oh, but she could be awful sometimes. Years ago, Margaret Sutton had told her she could slice right through a person without even knowing she’d done it. Well, she regretted what she’d said to her son. More than regretted—she hated herself for it. “You think this could actually work?” she asked curiously. “That he won’t throw all his money down a black sinkhole?”
George sighed. He put his hand on hers and patted it. “Every rancher in this state is trying to make something work, Delia. Ranching isn’t what it used to be. Who knows if it will work? But he’s got a great head on his shoulders, a good family to back him up, and most importantly, he has the desire. And let’s be honest—he never was going to be a nine-to-five kind of guy.”
George was right about that. Since he was a boy, Luca had always had big dreams and a vivid imagination.
Maybe she was the one who lacked imagination. She was the one who had pigeonholed him. Charlie used to tell her to let Luca have his head, that he’d run to something. She should have listened to Charlie.
Chapter Thirty
Karen made Luca stand in the front window of her living room and go over his note cards, as if he were addressing a crowd.
“I feel ridiculous,” Luca complained.
“Do you want to go out and give your speech without rehearsing?” Karen asked.
He did not want to do that.
“Let’s do this,” she said, and propped her feet on an ottoman. “I don’t have a lot of time. I have a hair appointment so I’ll look good tonight.” She beamed at him.
Luca took a breath. He began to recite his speech. He had note cards that he read from to remind him of the points he wanted to make. It was a short speech, thankfully, and Karen kept barking at him to stop moving around, to make eye contact. After they’d gone through it three times and he’d nailed the last one, she stood up and applauded.
Luca bowed grandly. “Thank you.”
“I am busting my buttons I’m so proud of you. I wish your dad was here to see you.”
“Me, too,” Luca said.
“Well, you go home and do whatever it is people do at enormous ranches to prepare for big events. But I want you to take a moment today to think about what you’ve accomplished, Luca. It was no small feat to pull off this fund-raiser and learn to read all at the same time. Most people would have crumbled.”
He didn’t know about that, but Luca promised her he would reflect on it. He was proud of himself. Only a few months ago he would never have believed this day would come. What he and Brandon had worked so hard to build might actually come to fruition. And he, hopefully, would put to bed the rumors that he couldn’t read.
He’d worked hard for this moment, and yet, it was tarnished because Ella had given him the boot. He never knew it could hurt so bad. He wondered if he’d ever hurt someone as deeply as this.
He hadn’t slept worth a damn since he drove away from her house. He’d paced his loft, thinking back on every word. Should he have seen it coming? Did he push her? Did he do something to turn her off? Was it possible that he misread things so completely? Because it had seemed to him they were on the verge of something pretty amazing that night in his loft. They’d had great conversations, and their bedroom was on fire.