by Liz Isaacson
Her sister was beautiful, and a tidal wave of love for her rushed Evelyn. See? She knew she loved her sister. Why couldn’t the Lord help her figure out how she felt about Rhett?
“You must’ve been to every garage sale this summer,” she said, her words only slightly choked. If Simone noticed, she didn’t say anything.
She beamed around at the trinkets and treasures in the shed. “Yeah,” she said. “A lot of them, actually.”
She had couches she’d obviously reupholstered, dining sets she’s repainted, old collectibles she’d framed. And antique or vintage items like the sewing machine she worked on. Simone went to the yard sales and bought items for as cheap as she could. Then she spent hours with her creative vision and her talent, turning the trash into a treasure.
Her contributions to the family income were sporadic, though her Fall Festival money usually provided the sisters with Christmas every year.
A flash of sadness hit Evelyn. Would she be spending Christmas at the ranch this year? With her father and grandmother and sisters?
It didn’t feel like she would be.
“Hey.”
Evelyn blinked, realizing Simone now stood right in front of her, a concerned look on her face. “I’ve been talking to you. Are you okay? You look kind of pale.”
“I’m okay,” Evelyn said through a dry throat. She needed a drink so badly, and she needed to figure out what to do with her life. It felt like everything had shattered the day Rhett had sat down in her office and wanted to know if she loved him.
Why couldn’t things between them have just stayed simple?
“How are things with Rhett?” Simone asked, something she literally never did.
“Fine,” Evelyn said, her guard up now. “Why?”
“He’s here a lot.” Simone shrugged. “That’s all.”
“He’s here a lot?”
“He works here,” Simone said, peering at Evelyn. “You didn’t know?”
“Oh, of course, yeah.” She laughed, but it came out too fast and too high-pitched. She quieted and glanced around, ready to leave but not wanting to run out. She didn’t want to be alone either, and she realized she had nowhere else to go. She’d always been able to go to her sisters, find comfort in the farmhouse, regain her center when things went badly.
But now, everything in her life was spinning wildly out of control.
“I just came to say hi,” she said, turning away from Simone. “I’ll go see if I can find Callie.”
She’d taken two steps when Simone said, “Are you okay?”
Evelyn wanted to say yes, but she didn’t know how. “I don’t know,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” Simone stepped around her again. “Evvy, are you crying?”
“How can I know if I’m in love with Rhett?”
Simone sucked in a breath and held it. “What do you mean? You married Rhett. Of course you love him.”
“It was fake,” she whispered. “We only got married so my business wouldn’t die.”
Simone’s eyes widened, and she searched Evelyn’s face for something. What, she didn’t know. Tears spilled out of her eyes. I asked You, she thought. I begged You to make sure I wouldn’t hurt him.
“Didn’t Callie ever tell you?” she asked Simone.
“No. I thought you and Rhett were perfect for each other. I mean, you are perfect for each other. Aren’t you?”
Before Evelyn could answer, the door behind Simone opened again, this time with a crash as it hit the wall behind it. Rhett stormed into the building. “There you are. You set up Tripp and Ivory Osburn?”
“No, I—”
“We had an agreement, Evelyn,” he said icily, talking right over her. “My brothers were off-limits in your little game of matchmaker.”
Chapter Eighteen
Rhett did not know he could feel so angry, especially toward Evelyn. But pure fire raged through his bloodstream at the moment, and Evelyn’s lack of explanation wasn’t helping.
He wasn’t going to let her slide again. Not for one more minute.
“Well?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” she said. “She wanted me to, but I didn’t.”
“Well, he’s going out with her.” He forced his fingers to uncurl. “Explain that.”
“Maybe you should ask Tripp about that,” she said.
“I did,” he said. “He said they met at the post office. Evvy. The post office? That has you written all over it.”
“Why? I—”
“Tripp didn’t even know where the post office was. Liam had to draw him a map on a paper towel. And he happens to run into one of your clients? Who dropped her boxes all over the parking lot?” He gave a high-pitched, girly laugh that clearly wasn’t happy. “I can’t believe you’d do this.”
He turned and stormed out of the shed, leaving himself to wonder when he’d learned how to say her nickname with so much malice. Half of him wanted her to follow him, and the other half wanted her to stay inside the safety of the shed.
Because he felt as unpredictable as that blasted tornado that had brought him face-to-face with the beautiful Evelyn Foster all those months ago.
He didn’t like his life much anymore. He hated sleeping upstairs while his wife curled up in the bed they’d shared many times. He hated sneaking out of the house before seeing her so he wouldn’t ask her the questions he needed answered. He hated that he wasn’t strong enough to confront her and make her talk to him.
But he’d learned one thing over the last month—patience. And more patience. He’d asked God to help him so many times, and every time, his answer had been Wait a little longer.
So he’d been waiting. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang on. He swung up into the truck and slammed the door behind him. He had the truck started and in gear when Evelyn came running up to his window.
“Rhett,” she said, her chest heaving. “Wait.”
Wait.
He couldn’t. Not anymore.
“I’m done waiting for you, Evelyn,” he said. “Please move away from my truck.” He stared straight out of the windshield, his frustration with her too great for him to focus on her.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t set up Tripp and Ivory.” She paused, as if he’d just accept her at her word and get out of the truck. Maybe kiss her and everything would be magically better.
“You can be mad at me about other stuff, if you want to,” she said. “But not this. I did not do this.”
She sounded firm and genuine. Maybe she hadn’t set up Tripp and Ivory, but he couldn’t ask Tripp, and he didn’t have Ivory’s number.
He just needed Evelyn to leave him alone. Sadness filled him, as he’d never wanted to be with anyone but Evelyn. “I need some space to think.” His fingers curled and uncurled around the wheel. “Please, can you back up?”
She sighed and stepped back. “You’re coming home tonight, aren’t you?”
He looked right at her, her light brown eyes filled with tears. Had she been praying as much as he had? Had the Lord been telling her anything at all?
“I don’t know, Evelyn,” he said. “I guess we’ll see tonight.” He eased away from her when he wanted to spray dirt and gravel behind his wheels as he got as far from her as he could get, as quickly as he could.
He looked in the rear-view mirror when he reached the turn, and Evelyn still stood in the path in front of the shed where her sister worked. Rhett had been inside several times, as he often brought lunch out to Simone for Callie.
All of the Foster sisters were extremely talented, and they would do anything to make ends meet. He’d seen that first-hand, and he admired all of them on many levels.
“Evelyn,” he said, shaking his head angrily. Could Ivory had spilled her boxes on her own? At the exact moment Tripp happened to be there? “No. That was Evelyn.” It had to be. There was no way that meeting had been by chance.
He reached the lane that led down to Seven Sons. Looking that direction, he didn’t feel like t
hat was where he should be. No, the white house on Quail Creek Road was his home now. His heart hurt, but it continued to beat steadily.
He wanted to go home.
So he did.
Evelyn didn’t return to the house until almost dark, and by then Rhett was already upstairs in his bedroom. He’d ordered dinner, hoping she’d be the one who came home for dinner, but she hadn’t.
He heard the door close, and he looked up from his case notes. He usually spread them across the kitchen table and asked Evelyn for her help in seeing things he couldn’t while they ate or talked or sipped their morning coffee.
Since he’d marched into her office a month ago, things between them had been strained. But they’d been civil. They’d spoken, and he’d even kissed her lots of times. But he’d moved out of the bedroom, and the one up here on the second floor felt so small.
She did not come upstairs to talk to him, and Rhett laid there, his mind churning.
“Lord?” he asked, and this time, there was no prompting to wait. He got up and headed for the door. He could be brave again.
Sixty seconds, he told himself. In sixty seconds, he’d be downstairs, and the conversation would be started. After that, he’d deal with what he had to. Say what needed to be said.
He made his footsteps loud on the stairs, so she’d know he was coming. She sat at the kitchen counter, the salad he’d ordered for her in front of her. “Thank you,” she said, looking at him.
He nodded, because he hadn’t expected to be met with appreciation. “You didn’t come home for dinner.”
She gave half a shrug. “I don’t know what to do, Rhett.”
“I do,” he said. “This clearly isn’t working. You don’t love me, and I don’t trust you.” As he spoke, he realized how true the words were. “I’ll take care of everything.”
He wanted her to contradict him, but she asked, “Everything?” instead.
“The divorce,” he said. “It’s not free to file.”
“Have you researched this already?”
“No,” he said. “I just—I just know it’s not free.” How he knew, he wasn’t sure. But he knew people didn’t just waltz into City Hall and get divorced the way they did to get married. They probably should have to do more to tie the knot, as it had been entirely too easy for Rhett and Evelyn to get to this point.
His heart hurt. No, it ached. Why couldn’t she love him the way he loved her? They’d been such great friends.
Evelyn pushed her salad away. “I’ll go get packed.”
“So that’s it?” he asked, watching her stand up.
“This is your house,” she said. A tear slipped down her face. She swiped at it angrily, and everything inside Rhett collapsed. How could he be mad at her when she was crying?
“This is our house,” he said, his voice creaking a little bit on the words. “When I thought about where I wanted to go this afternoon after talking to you, it was here. To this house. This place feels like home to me now, and it has nothing to do with the house.” Rhett’s throat burned, but he forged forward. “It has to do with you. And even if I’m sleeping up in that stupid bedroom by myself, I’m okay, because you’re still here.”
Evelyn cried openly now, and Rhett had no idea what to do. He’d said everything. Made it through the hard sixty seconds.
“What do you want from me?” she finally asked.
“I want to know you love me as fiercely as I love you,” he said. “I know I said I didn’t need a big wedding or anything fancy. And I don’t. I’ve never thought I’d ever fall in love, but I have.”
He drew in a big breath, searching for the last bit of courage he had. “And I deserve to be loved by my wife. So if you don’t love me, just say it.”
She had to say something, one way or the other. Rhett couldn’t wait any longer, and he’d once again spoken true. He did deserve to be loved. She had to learn to talk to him about hard things.
Maybe he had to learn more patience. He didn’t know. Standing there in the kitchen he loved, facing off with his wife who still wouldn’t say anything, Rhett felt like he’d gotten his answer.
“You don’t have to move out,” he said. “The house is yours. Stay here. I know you love those big trees out back.” He did too, but he turned away before he said something he’d regret.
“Rhett,” she said after him, but he didn’t stop, and he didn’t go back.
He also couldn’t stay in the house with her there, so he swiped his keys from the dresser upstairs and headed right back down to his truck.
His brothers would ask tons of questions, and Rhett would have to admit to all of them that his marriage had been a farce. Fake. Make-believe.
His breath hitched in his chest as he backed out of the driveway and headed down the road. But this was the right thing to do. He couldn’t keep living in a loveless marriage. He’d told Evelyn that months ago, when they’d talked about a platonic relationship. That wasn’t what he wanted with her, and he didn’t believe she wanted that either.
Instead of turning right to go back to the ranch road, he went left and continued into town. He pulled up to the first hotel he came to, hoping they’d have a room on this lonely Wednesday night.
The next day, he filed for divorce, signing his name to the petition that would open the case with a heavy heart. Evelyn would get notified legally, so he didn’t pull out his phone and text her. He wanted to hear her voice. Wanted to taste her lips as he kissed her goodnight. Wanted to have her be his soft place to fall when he had a bad day or just needed someone who loved him no matter what.
“She doesn’t love you at all,” he told himself as he left the courthouse. He wasn’t sure where to go or what to do that day. He’d always been welcome at the Shining Star, but he was sure that would change, if it hadn’t already.
His phone chimed several times at once, almost like he hadn’t had service inside the courthouse.
He’d gotten a couple of messages from Tripp, one from Callie, and three from Evelyn.
He tapped on Tripp’s first. News is out, bro. Callie just told Liam that your marriage to Evelyn was fake.
True or not true?
Rhett’s heart seized, and then started hammering. Of course, Tripp had asked if it was true or not. He was a good brother, and Rhett didn’t want to lie to him.
True, he typed out and sent before navigating to the next text.
Callie had asked if he’d be at the ranch that day. Do I need to be? he sent back to her. I think I’d like the day off. I’m going through some stuff right now.
No sooner had he sent the message did his phone ring, and Callie’s name sat on the screen. Feeling guilty, he didn’t answer it. If she was telling Liam things about Rhett’s marriage, then Evelyn had to be at the ranch.
Which meant Rhett would not be going there today.
He opened Evelyn’s messages next. The first said, You stayed at a hotel?
The second: You might as well have announced to the whole town that we’re splitting up.
The third: Where are you right now? Why won’t my calls go through?
With every word he read, his anger grew. By the end, it foamed into great peaks of fury. She didn’t care about him. Not even a little bit. No How are you? Are you okay? Where did you go last night?
No, those texts showed that all Evelyn cared about—all she’d ever cared about—was her matchmaking business.
I filed for divorce, he sent back to her, intending to get behind the wheel of his truck and just drive until he ran out of gas. Throw his phone out the window and buy a new one when he could.
Before he could even make it to his truck, his phone rang.
It was Tripp.
Sighing, Rhett swiped on the call and waited for his brother to start demanding what in the world Rhett had been thinking.
Instead, Tripp said, “Come back to the ranch, Rhett. We’re here for you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Evelyn sat in her car outside the church, the October
wind trying to get through the glass. One day had passed since her argument with Rhett. Well, it really hadn’t been an argument. He’d done most of the talking, and he’d said really awesome things.
“Why can’t I be like him?” she asked the building. Of course, it didn’t answer. No one had been talking to Evelyn much. Callie was angry with her for letting Rhett walk out. Simone didn’t know what to say. Rhett had never looked so hurt nor sounded so angry via texting as he had the last twenty-four hours.
“And he has every right to be upset with you,” she told herself. What she didn’t know how to do was fix what she’d broken.
She hadn’t lost any clients—yet. But she’d heard from Nancy Stopper that Rhett had stayed at the Roadside Inn last night, which meant all the gossip mills in town were running. After all, Nancy Stopper didn’t care about Evelyn. She may have been her mother’s friend decades ago, and sure, she brought a fruitcake every Christmas.
But she didn’t know Evelyn. She worked at the flower shop in town, and she’d heard about Rhett from her daughter.
Evelyn could practically trace the conversation back through Tracie to probably Bethany, who’d probably heard it from Heather, who worked at the gas station across the street from the hotel. She’d probably gotten the news from Dylan, who worked the lobby at the hotel overnight and always stopped across the street for doughnuts before she went home.
The fact that Evelyn knew all of that only added fuel to the simmering fire in her stomach.
Just because she hadn’t lost clients yet didn’t mean she wouldn’t. Once they all heard the truth, she’d be ruined. She wouldn’t be able to get a single woman in Three Rivers to hire her.
She hadn’t been able to stay in the house last night either, but she’d had enough sense to stay out of the public eye. Her old room at the Shining Star felt claustrophobic, and she’d ended up on the couch for most of the night.
She’d slept little, and when her eyes closed, they burned. She kept them closed anyway, relishing the tears that came to soothe them. A horseback ride would help her feel better, but it wouldn’t cure this pain spiraling inside her.