Simple
Page 26
Oddly enough, I didn’t realize until that moment that she was only wearing a bra and panties. She had always been slender, but her hips were definitely more prominent, and her collarbones seemed to protrude more. It hadn’t been long since I’d last seen her this bare, but it was easy to see she’d lost some weight.
Grief—death’s sinister sister. Death robs us of life, grief robs us of what’s left.
Needing something other than her nearly naked body to focus on, I glanced at the dresser beside the door and noticed the Quotebook opened to one of my mother’s picks and read it out loud. “A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others.”
“The Wizard of Oz,” Emalee replied reflexively.
I stared at the page a moment longer, hating the silence between us. “Can I do anything to help you?”
Her gaze was fixed on the closet. “Will you let Pepper know I’ll be down shortly, please?”
I stepped fully in the room and shut the door behind me. “I’m not going back down without you.”
“I can’t decide what to wear.”
I narrowed my gaze, confused. There were a ton of dresses. “Just pick one. I doubt anyone will really notice what you’re wearing.”
Her lip trembled, but she bit it, holding herself together as she slumped into the chair. “I know, but this dress will forever be the dress I wore to my mother’s funeral. I’ll never be able to wear it without thinking about this day, but I’ll always keep it because I’ll have some unhealthy sentimental attachment to it.”
“Close your eyes,” I said gently, taking a step toward her. “Go on, do it,” I insisted when I saw the confusion in her gaze. She reluctantly complied, and I crossed to the closet and inspected the dresses she’d been hugging. I selected a black one with red flower embroidery and slipped it off of the hanger.
“What are you doing?” she asked uneasily.
“Keep them closed,” I said then took her hands and gently pulled her to her feet. I unzipped the dress and knelt before her, pooling it at her feet so she could step into it. Keeping my voice soft and my movements slow so as not to spook her, I put her hand on my shoulder so she could steady herself then said, “Step forward.” She hesitantly stepped forward into the dress.
I stood as I pulled the dress up her body and she inhaled sharply as the material brushed over her hips before her body relaxed with the understanding of what was happening. I guided her arms through the wide straps, settling them on her shoulders, all the while doing my best to limit how much I touched her. I moved behind her, resting my hands lightly on her hips and maneuvered her to face the mirror before I zipped the dress.
I let my hands rest firmly on her shoulders, holding her steady and said, “You can open them.”
Her lashes fluttered open and the corners of her mouth turned up subtly before she met my gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “You have good taste.”
“You look beautiful in this,” I confessed, instinctively leaning into her.
“A grieving hot house flower of despair,” she mused.
“Being sad can be beautiful. Just think of it as you loved someone so much that her absence hurts your heart.”
“It doesn’t feel beautiful.”
We held each other’s gazes for a moment, an intensity of mixed emotions swarming—her regret, my disappointment; her hurt, my anger; lust, love—it was all there. Finally, I tore my eyes away and stepped back, clearing my throat. “Well, I think you’re ready,” I said gruffly.
She opened her mouth to speak, only to close it as she shifted her gaze away from the mirror. Feeling like an intruder suddenly, I turned and left her room.
The temporary truce held for a while, but eventually Bailor and Pepper’s exchanges had grown just as awkward as mine and Emalee’s, and after a couple hours I’d reached my politeness limit. From the furtive glances I caught Bailor making toward the door, it seemed he’d had enough too. Kepners weren’t good at emotions, and justified anger and guilt warred within us the longer we remained, so we said our goodbyes and left.
Hours later, I was sprawled across the couch beer in hand, the perfect display of a man feeling adrift, when there was a knock at the door. Knowing there was only one person it could be, I drug myself off the couch and to the door. Emalee stood stoically on the porch, her hands linked in front of her, still wearing the dress I’d selected for her earlier. A light breeze toyed with her hair as I stood at the entrance meeting her gaze through the screen.
“I’m sorry. I hope you know that. More than anything,” she blurted.
“Today isn’t the day to discuss this,” I said gently, not wanting to get into it, knowing just how emotionally spent she had to be from the events of the last week. Just because I was upset with her didn’t mean I wanted to see her in pain.
A line appeared between her brows. “I have to do this today because I’m scared I’ll never see you again.”
Pain lanced through me at her words. In all my anger and disappointment, I hadn’t let my mind stretch to closing the door on her forever. I’d only allowed myself to think and cope day to day. Never see her again? Is that what I really wanted? When I’d only just gotten her back?
Her eyes flittered to something beside her as I stepped out onto the porch. “This belongs to you and your brothers.” I followed her gaze and recognized my mother’s guitar case. “I’d like to keep the Quotebook, if that’s okay with you.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I didn’t want the guitar back. There was no doubt in my mind Mom would’ve wanted Emalee to have it. I’d really only been upset when I’d thought Joe had sold it to a stranger on eBay because it was meant to stay with family—with someone that knew and loved Mom as much as we did. Emalee understood her in a way none of us boys ever could.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Today feels like a day to let things go; to put things to rest. Mama…regret…things I can’t control,” she listed. She lowered her gaze and her dark lashes rested against her flushed cheeks. My love for her battled fiercely with my pride. I wanted to reach out to her and take her hand, but my pride reminded me of what she’d done.
In a flash, she rushed me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her mouth to mine. As her lips moved against mine, I couldn’t stop myself; my hands found her hips and I pulled her to me. The kiss was hard and fevered, love and anger melded into a maddening concoction that made me want to crush her to me and push her away all at once. When she pulled her mouth from mine, she hugged me tightly before stepping back fixing her dark gaze on mine.
“I wish you peace and happiness, Cole Kepner. More than anything. You deserve it more than anyone.”
She spun around and rushed down the steps. As soon as her foot hit the bottom step, the sky seemed to fall out and rain came down heavy and unforgiving. Emalee’s stride didn’t falter as she continued to her car, the precipitation soaking her hair, causing it to loosen down her back.
I glanced down at the guitar case and memories from all those years ago, when I’d felt like the world was taking everything from me, poured through my mind. I’d said goodbye to so many things, including Emalee. Was I really saying goodbye to her again? Over a naive choice she’d made when she was just a kid? One she’d made because she loved me and thought she was doing what was best for me? I pulled my gaze from the guitar case and looked out at the fields as a flash of lightening blitzed across the sky. In that moment, as the rain soaked the ground, I finally saw the truth—I’d been wrong all along. I’d given everything for this farm, and it had taken it all, absorbing my life into the earth. I’d fed it my dreams in the hope that it would give us back just enough to survive. I had so many regrets, but I didn’t want letting Emalee leave again to be one of them.
“Em, stop!” I yelled as I chased after her. Turning, desperate eyes met mine as I reached her. “I’ve let go of so much. I can’t do this with you again.”
She stared up at me, rain dripping from
her lashes and mixing with her mascara as it ran down her cheeks. “All I wanted was to help you, Cole. I couldn’t bear to see you lose this farm. Not after everything.”
Rain pelted down on us, but we stood grounded, our gazes locked. “Don’t go, Em. Don’t leave me again.”
Her lip trembled as her eyes flooded with tears. “Are you sure?”
“You said it was a day to put things to rest. Let’s put it all to rest together. Let’s let go of all the hurt and hold on to the only thing that matters.” I took her face in my hands. “Each other.”
She let out a ragged laugh, something between relief and happiness. “That’s all I want. More than anything.”
I crushed my lips to hers, relief washing over me as thunder rolled in the distance. Breaking the kiss, we ran for the house. I grabbed the guitar case on our way in, leaving it in the doorway of the den as I pulled her upstairs. Our clothes dropped heavily to the floor as we peeled them off, both of us shivering as we pressed our bodies together. Soaked and frantic, we came together again, in the most complete of ways, this time with the certainty there would be no more goodbyes between us.
And we put it all to rest.
We let go.
And held on to the only thing that mattered.
Each other.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review here.
Thank you, Raelene Green, with word·play by 77peaches. I know my refusal to keep chapter numbers in order, or my story in general, drives you nuts, but you still help me anyways. I am so grateful for all of your hard work. It’s amazing to have someone who understands what I’m thinking and also pushes me to put down my truth because they understand me. Thank you a million times.
Tami, with Integrity Formatting. You. Are. Boss. That is all.
Thank you to my amazing sister Amy Jo with One Josie Photography and Design. You wow me with your epic design skills, and I adore this cover. I love you, sis!
To my sister wife, Tiffany. You are the Pepper to my Emalee, and you should trademark the term “hoe bath” stat. By the way, I totally used it in this book. I am beyond grateful those two assholes broke our hearts that fateful Memorial Day weekend years ago and we reconnected. Your friendship means the world to me.
Thank you, Dan Mills. You are by far one of the most interesting people I have ever spoken with. Our conversation about farming will stay with me forever, mostly because of how passionately you spoke of it. Thank you for sharing your childhood memories. For not only walking me through the process, but brainstorming storylines with me. I hung the phone up that day feeling completely inspired. I hope if you read this book that I did the farmer’s plight justice. I can see why my sister-in-law is such a badass with a father like you.
Thank you, Dr. Lollato, with Kansas State University, for taking the call of a complete stranger who claimed to be a writer. You were so kind, and you offered me so much insight. You helped me narrow down my crop, the timing of harvest based on my location in the state. You are amazing. Thank you a million times over.
Thank you Author Kim Holden and Author Hazel James for your beta and critique reads. You ladies always know my voice so well, and your time and efforts mean the world to me.
Thank you to the bloggers that review and share my work. I am grateful for your time and hard work.
Thank you to my readers. You guys rock my world.
Jackson. Gracey. Aubrey. There is nothing I will ever be more proud of than being your mother. I love you three with all of my heart.
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