by Erin Wright
But not now. There was no way that she missed this fact now.
It’d been three days since her announcement. Three days of hell. Only one day of working with the kids out at Adam’s place, and all anyone seemed to want to know was where was Abby? The little brown-haired girl who always clung to Abby like her shadow had been especially insistent.
“She promised she was going to come again!” she’d said, her mouth full of metal making it hard for her to speak clearly. But what she wanted to say wasn’t lost on Wyatt. She was a force of nature, and her wishes were crystal clear.
“I’m not sure where she’s at,” Wyatt had said lamely. Abby’d actually never planned on coming that day; it interfered with her work schedule. But he couldn’t tell the little girl that and lead her on, making her believe that Abby would for sure be there the next time. He rather doubted it, actually…
“Did you make her sad?” the little girl had demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at Wyatt.
Dammit. Even small children seemed to know that he’d screwed this up.
But on the other hand, he’d told Abby how much he wanted kids, way back during Christmas. She’d known all this time what children meant to him. She’d had a whole month to tell him, and hadn’t. The people around him were always betraying him; he couldn’t rely on anyone to tell him the truth when it didn’t suit their needs.
Shit. That wasn’t true, and he knew it. At least not when it came to Abby.
His head thunked forward against the tractor seat. He was out in the shop, ostensibly doing a tuneup on this old workhorse, but he’d spent the last…he didn’t know how long, actually, just staring off into space.
With a grunt, he left the shop and headed over to the barn. He was going to spend time with Elvis. At least he still liked Wyatt. Maggie Mae pushed herself up onto her feet and trotted alongside him as he went.
“When was she supposed to tell me?” he asked Maggie, who gave him a mournful yip in return.
That’s what was getting stuck in his craw. He wanted to just hate her because she hadn’t told him the truth from the beginning, but what beginning, exactly, was that? When he was first thrown in jail? Was she just supposed to tell every inmate who came through, on the off-chance that they fell in love during their stay?
He entered the warmish barn, the heater on low to keep the cold at bay. Flakes were swirling again; another winter storm was going to hit. Even for Long Valley, this had been a hell of a winter.
Elvis nickered when he saw Wyatt, his ears pricking up. Maggie Mae headed straight to her blanket in the corner so she could get back to her interrupted nap. She flopped down with a disgruntled sigh.
Wyatt ignored the pain Maggie obviously felt she’d just been put through, and instead grabbed a metal scoop and opened up the mice-proof bin of oats to dish some out. He dumped it into the feeding bucket and carried it over to Elvis, who began hoovering it down like he hadn’t seen food in the last ten years. Which was always how he ate oats; that and carrots. Wyatt long ago stopped worrying that he was mistakenly starving his horse. The big glutton just loved to eat.
“I treated her like shit,” he said, stroking his hand down Elvis’ neck as he continued to lip around the bottom of the bucket, attempting to suck up the last bits of grain. “I couldn’t figure out why she’d run away that day when we’d kissed, and now I know.
“You could say that she should’ve told me then, but…” He paused, staring at the far wall of the barn, seeing nothing. “That’s the kind of private information that you just don’t go around telling every soul in sight, and it probably took her time to build up her courage to talk to me.”
Just like it’d taken him time – three days, to be exact – to be able to see the situation clearly. She’d gathered up her courage, told him the truth, and he’d promptly acted like the bastard he was. He was never going to win a personality contest, but even for him, his behavior that day had been inexcusable.
Elvis, the oats officially gone, began nibbling on Wyatt’s jacket instead. Wyatt pushed him away with a small laugh. “I better go ride you before you start eating your stall door.” Elvis just nickered again, obviously trying to prove his innocence of such charges.
Wyatt didn’t believe him, not one bit.
He saddled him up and they headed outside into the cold, blowing snow, Maggie Mae fast on their heels. This would be good for all of them; Maggie needed to get outside and stretch her legs too. He looked down and saw her loping alongside him, tongue lolling out, happy as a clam.
He steered Elvis towards the trees that ran along his fence line that separated him from Mr. Krein, his nearest neighbor. He’d follow the frozen creek along. It was beautiful, winter or summer, and the view always soothed him.
As they trotted along, Wyatt turned the thought over and over in his mind. It was pretty clear to all involved, even him, that he needed to beg Abby’s forgiveness for his behavior the other day. She’d never been anything but thoughtful and sweet to him, and didn’t deserve what he said, not one bit.
But that didn’t solve the other, looming question: Could he fall in love with someone who couldn’t give him what he wanted most in the world? He wanted kids. He wanted someone to have his smile and his wife’s temperament (because God only knows, this world couldn’t handle two Wyatts in it). He wanted someone to teach how to catch a baseball, and dance with on her wedding day, and show just how to make the perfect weld, and how to curry a horse just right.
He wanted to make a difference in a kid’s life, girl or boy, he didn’t care. He wanted someone to call him Dad.
His throat felt tight with unshed tears. He hadn’t cried since the night Shelly and Sierra died. Not at the funeral, not a day since.
But the idea of losing the ability to have kids…that was a hell of a price to pay to love someone. Could he love Abby enough to forgive her? Not her, but the situation? It wasn’t fair to her to be in love with someone who would always resent her for keeping the one thing he wanted away from him.
Love…
Had he meant to use that word? He thought back to the last couple of months. Even in the depths of inmate hell, the one shining moment had been Abby. When she’d walk by and they’d trade joking insults or just brief comments. It was what had kept him sane while being locked in a 6 x 9 jail cell. Unlike so many others in the community, she hadn’t judged him and found him wanting.
And then, they’d kissed. And his whole world shifted on its axis and he wasn’t sure what he wanted or who he was anymore.
His eyes stung from the cold winter air; nothing more than that. He dashed at them with the back of his hand.
He had a choice to make, and in deference to Abby and her feelings, he needed to make it soon. Before he’d screwed everything up, they’d made plans for him to pick her up tomorrow and take her out to Adam’s. He had no idea if she still wanted him to, or if he wanted to.
He better start making decisions.
He wiped at his eyes again.
Damn winter air.
Chapter 30
Abby
Abby stared at her bowl of breakfast cereal in front of her, pushing the soggy Corn Flakes around the bowl mindlessly. She was supposed to go out to Adam’s place today. She was supposed to hang out with Genny and the horses and of course, see Wyatt.
Wyatt, who hated her guts, all because of something she had no control over. Did he think she enjoyed falling onto the bike and wrecking her stomach, and any chance of a normal adulthood? She’d known since elementary school that she didn’t get to fall in love. She didn’t get to get married. No one would love someone like her, who couldn’t have children.
She kinda wondered if that wasn’t why she became a police officer. Sure, her dad needed the help at the county; when he was elected, it was a contentious election and the county police officers at the time had all backed the incumbent. The day her father had been sworn into office, 90% of the police force quit en masse in protest. She’d basically been pressed int
o service, went through the Idaho Police Academy training as quickly as possible, and had been at the Long Valley County Jail ever since.
Things had settled down, and her dad probably could’ve stood for her to quit and move onto something else. It’d been years since that first election, and the county had finally coalesced around him. So why hadn’t she quit?
Because a police officer was scary. No one expected a police officer – a female one, no less – to find love and get married. It was okay if she was single; no one expected otherwise.
When it came to dating, it was bad enough that her father was the sheriff; that probably would’ve scared off most of the men all by itself. But a female police officer just didn’t get many offers for dates, unless she started counting drunken propositions, which she most certainly was not.
So yeah, she’d been using the police badge as a shield for her heart all this time. Better to keep men at bay than to allow them in, and risk getting hurt because of her…inadequacies.
She closed her eyes with a groan. Maybe what she was thinking was true, but that didn’t make it any more wonderful. It was a fine thing to figure out something like this about herself after all this time. She wasn’t sure what to do with the knowledge; truth was, even if being a police officer had been a subconscious shield against the world, it had obviously failed with a certain Wyatt Miller. When she hadn’t been looking, he’d snuck in and stole her heart.
She heard lapping noises and opened up her eyes to see Jasmine drinking the milk in her cereal bowl.
“You little beggar,” she said, laughing. Jasmine flicked her tail but kept drinking it up. Nothing short of taking the bowl away from her would scare Jasmine into leaving a prize as fine as this. Not when there was milk on the line.
Ten minutes. Wyatt was supposed to be at her house in ten minutes, but there was no chance he was actually going to show up, right? She was probably going to see him at the courthouse when he turned in his paperwork, and occasionally around town after that, but he wasn’t coming to her house today to pick her up. He hated her, for something she didn’t control, want, or desire.
Which brought her right back to where she’d started.
Finally satiated, Jasmine sat back on her haunches and began cleaning her face, giving herself a studious bath. Right on the dining room table.
“You are so spoiled,” Abby said, picking Jasmine up and carrying her to the couch. “Please stay off the dining room table. I need to have some standards, you know.” Jasmine gave her a haughty look, dissatisfied at being moved, and then stalked to the end of the couch where she settled down and began giving herself a proper bath.
Rolling her eyes at her spoiled rotten cat – because of course it was someone else’s fault for spoiling her, not Abby’s – she began cleaning off the dining room table. She’d need to scrub it down after Jasmine sat her ass on—
Ding-dong.
Abby straightened up and looked at the door.
Surely not. Wyatt wouldn’t come, right? He pretty much hated her guts. He wasn’t going to come pick her up so she could go spend time not talking to him. Because there was no way he wanted to talk to her. Not after…
Ding-dong.
She hurried to the front door, shoving her hair out of her face as she went. She was in an old faded flannel shirt and oversized sweat pants. She hadn’t exactly wanted Wyatt to see her like this.
Why does it matter? He doesn’t like you anyway.
Still wasn’t useful for her self-esteem.
With a sigh, she opened the door to find a nervous-as-hell-looking Wyatt standing there.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey.” He swallowed hard. “Can I come in for a minute?”
“Sure.” She swung the door open wide so he could come walking in. She wanted to say something sarcastic, like, “But only if you promise not to be an asshole,” but decided against it.
“I wanted to apologize,” Wyatt said, turning around to look at her. Jasmine came walking over and began nudging his leg, looking for affection.
“Then apologize,” Abby snapped.
Maybe her temper wasn’t quite under control as much as she thought it was.
He stared at her. “What?”
“You said you wanted to apologize, not that you were apologizing. If you want to, I suggest you do.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Jasmine had looked adorable enough to convince Wyatt to pick her up, and she was busy purring in his arms with happiness at the attention she was getting.
Cheater.
Her cat should only be loyal to Abby, but alas, she was loyal to anyone who petted her.
Wyatt cleared his throat and started again. “Abby, I am apologizing.” He looked her straight in the eye and continued, “I apologize for being a jackass to you the other day. You came over to tell me the truth, and I acted totally inappropriately. It’s not your fault that you can’t have children, and instead of showing you understanding, I ripped into you. I never should have, and I have no excuse for it. Please know that I am sorry.”
He was staring at her, his dark blue eyes haunted and worried. She knew Wyatt. She knew that he’d apologized – and meant it – maybe once or twice in his whole life.
He meant it now.
And that meant a lot to her.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out tight and high. A part of her wanted to cry, but she’d been around men her whole life. The fastest way to completely freak a guy out was to turn on the water works. She swallowed the lump in her throat down instead.
“So where does that leave us?” she asked. The question hung over them like a mist over a gloomy forest. They couldn’t go anywhere; they couldn’t move on, until they figured that question out.
He shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m ready to answer that question yet. I understand if that means that you don’t want to be around me. I’m asking you to take a chance on me when I don’t know what I want yet. These past four days have been hell on earth. I’ve been damn miserable since I threw you out of my house.”
“Good,” she said, and stuck her tongue out at him.
He let out a startled laugh and said, “I guess I deserve that.” Jasmine, Traitor of the First Order, had completely melted into Wyatt, stretched out so far in his arms, Abby was a little afraid she’d just plop right out and fall on the floor. Wyatt was stroking her from head to ass, and Jasmine was purring up a storm.
“I’ve known you my whole life, Abby. But until that night at the convenience store, I didn’t actually know you. You were just someone closer to Declan’s age than mine, and I always had my own thing going. I can’t pretend that not having kids is a small thing to me. It’s a huge deal. But these past four days have shown me that you are a huge deal to me, too. Will you give me the time to figure this out?”
“I can’t have you resenting me for the rest of my life, Wyatt Miller. That isn’t fair to me. If you choose me, you choose me knowing what you’ve chosen. I can’t have it any other way. I can’t have someone in my life who resents me for circumstances beyond my control.”
“I know.” He gently put Jasmine down on the couch and with a disgruntled sniff, she began giving herself a bath. Wyatt moved to stand directly in front of Abby, picking up her hands in his and staring at her intently. “I need time. I’m not ready for that discussion. Not yet. Give me time to sort myself out. Don’t give up on me yet. I also can’t decide that being with you is worth giving up the dream of having kids, if I don’t really know you. Not like I should. I know that you have a terrific laugh and a forgiving heart and you’re a hell of a kisser. And that your cat is just about the most adorable thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. But I don’t know you, not yet, and I need to. Before I take that next step.”
She stared at him solemnly for a long moment. “Fair enough,” she said. “I appreciate you being honest with me and telling me how things stand. Just know that I won’t always be okay with how things are right now. Ev
entually, you’ll have to shit or get off the pot.”
Wyatt threw his head back and laughed. “Fair enough,” he said, echoing her words. “Now, are you gonna come with me to Adam’s place? That little girl with the braids – I think she thinks I drove you off. Last time, she did nothing but interrogate me about where you were at.”
“Did you tell her that you drove me off?” Abby said tartly, turning to her bedroom to get dressed.
“Oh hell no. I wasn’t sure I’d live through that revelation.”
“You always scared of nine-year-old girls with pigtails?” she asked saucily, standing in the doorway of her bedroom.
“Just on days that end with Y,” he volleyed back.
She shot him a grin, her first true smile since he showed up. “Let me get dressed and then we can head out. We shouldn’t be late for your community service hours; I hear your probation officer is a real hard ass.”
“The worst!” he shouted at her through the closed bedroom door. She grinned to herself. They were back to normal-ish again. And right then, she was willing to grab onto that with both hands.
Chapter 31
Wyatt
Life around Abby was maddeningly wonderful. Horribly amazing. Stupendously awful.
All of that and more.
They’d settled into a routine; when she wasn’t working at the courthouse or out on patrol, he’d come pick her up and drive her out to Adam’s place. They’d laugh and chat the whole way out there, and then go their separate ways once they arrived. Abby had a group of kids who loved her and anytime she wasn’t able to make it out there, they spent the whole time whining to anyone who would listen about it.
Not that he could blame them. Without Abby there, there was no sunshine. There was no happiness. Which seemed utterly dramatic and over the top to him, but also damn true.
Rhonda told him the other day that he was happier than she’d seen him since she’d started working with him. Which was also true. He wanted to smile now, which wasn’t something he could’ve necessarily said before. It was, to be quite honest, a totally new experience.