Third Time's the Charm

by Talley, Liz

  A small piece of paper stuck out of the top of the book. Sunny fingered it and then opened to that page.

  A picture of a big yellow farmhouse dominated the space. She’d cut out pictures of stained glass windows. And a picture of a wide-railed porch with a swing on one end. On the opposing page was a photo she’d taken of the pond on the land she and Henry had always wanted.

  Betty took her hand and gave it a squeeze, making Sunny choke up.

  “Mama.”

  “I know, baby. Love ain’t easy. I had a man I loved once and, well, I screwed it up because I didn’t think I was good enough for him. I took off with some asshole, thinking I could just run from my problems. But I got pregnant, and he left me in some flea-trap in Tennessee. I came skulking back, but by that time, it was too late. I let my insecurities keep me from a life I was too afraid to have. You going to let that happen? You going to just give Henry up?”

  “It was Henry’s dad, wasn’t it? The man you didn’t think you were good enough for?”

  Betty laughed. “Well, I’ve always been a sucker for a Delmar.”

  “Oh Mama, why didn’t you ever tell me?” Sunny wiped the tears on her cheeks and then reached over and wiped the ones on her mother’s.

  “Wasn’t a need to. That ship had sailed, and it wasn’t coming back. But you have a chance to get back what you lost.” Betty reached over and tapped on the picture of the pond. “He bought that land, you know.”

  “Wait, who? Henry?” Something inside Sunny cracked open.

  “Yeah, he bought it a long time ago. Rosemary told me he built a house on it when she came over to find a sweater she let Eden borrow. And Vienna’s grandmother lives nearby and she said it was”—Betty’s finger slid over to the picture of the yellow farmhouse—“a big yellow house.”

  Sunny swallowed hard and raised her eyes to the street out in front of their house. A small boy on a bicycle tootled by, singing a silly nursery rhyme. Normal things. Life happening. But inside Sunny every roadblock, every intention, every misconception she had about love, Morning Glory and Henry had imploded, scattering ashes.

  He’d built their house.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. “He built it.”

  Betty just squeezed her hand and stayed silent.

  Sunny sat there, tears coursing down her cheeks, on the porch of the house she’d hated for most her life. She sat there holding the hand of the mother she’d hated just about as much. She sat there, a woman who’d experienced so much loss and had been prepared to walk away from potential happiness because she didn’t think she deserved it.

  Someone really should have kicked her ass.

  Months ago.

  After a few seconds, minutes, or half an hour—she wasn’t sure—she opened her eyes and pulled her hand from her mother’s. “I think I need to step out for a few minutes. Will you be okay?”

  Betty smiled, and this time her half smile didn’t seem so clown-like or deranged. “I bet you do. I’ll be fine, honey.”

  It was the first time she could remember that her mother had called her an endearment.

  Henry had just finished installing the last gate on the kennels behind the barn when the Ring security feature he’d put on his phone dinged. Normally he’d ignore it. Over the past month, he’d had so many deliveries to the new house that he’d not worried about monitoring the camera that recorded what was left on his doormat. He doubted anyone would steal the bedding and furnishings delivered at an alarming rate from Amazon in preparation for move-in next week, but he’d been waiting for the sign he’d ordered from Clem that would designate his barn and the kennels behind it as the home of Sunshine Animal Rescue.

  Maybe today it would come. He wanted to get it up before Grace came out for the first time since he’d gotten the green light to work on Landry’s suggestion. They were planning a grand opening and reveal in two weeks.

  The results of building the animal rescue were pretty phenomenal. Henry had installed slides that allowed water and food bowls to be filled and slid back into the kennels for easier care, commissioned some local Boy Scouts to build raised platforms from leftover shipping pallets for the dogs to sleep on, and installed fans and heaters to keep the kennels temperate all year long. There were big dog runs, and he and Landry had even cleared an adjacent field to serve as a play yard. Sal and his historical society guys had put together some play structures—tunnels and bungee pulls—and a few ladies’ Bible study groups from different churches united to do a bake sale that paid for the fence around the yard. Sassy Grigsby had donated her old washer and dryer so volunteers could wash the bedding, and Henry had paid to outfit a doggy spa where they could bathe and groom the animals. They still had a few things to add, but overall it was ready to accept some four-legged guests.

  So when he heard the app on his phone ding, he grabbed it.

  Standing on the front porch mat Carson, Tomeka, and their new daughter Kelsi had brought to him as a housewarming gift when they came out to see the house, was Sunny.

  His heart dropped into his stomach, but he pulled it right back up again and pressed the button that would project his voice. “Yes?”

  “Oh, you’re here,” she said, sounding surprised. “I mean, I didn’t see your truck.”

  “I’m at the barn.”

  She blinked, her hands twisting in front of her. “Oh. Uh, it’s Sunny.”

  “I can see that. There’s a camera. You need something?”

  She opened her mouth and then shut it. He wished the video feed was better. He couldn’t read her well enough to figure out why she was there. He’d never told her about the house, but since they were housing the kennel now at the barn, he supposed word had gotten around town.

  “Uh, where’s the barn?” She turned and looked around her.

  “Just hold on a sec and I’ll be up there.” He clicked off the app and headed toward the mud-spattered mule he used to navigate the property. He’d bought it when he’d started the build last year but hadn’t much cause to use it; however, he’d gotten his money’s worth over the past few weeks.

  He navigated the path through the woods, noting the slight breeze and cool darkness of the pines. Apprehension, anger, and ever-present pesky hope tangled inside him as he broke through the encompassing woods into a clearing that announced his house on the hill. He could see Sunny standing on the porch, watching his approach, and after not seeing her for months, he was surprised she was here. Someone had told him she was leaving next week.

  He parked the mule and climbed out.

  For a brief moment, it struck him that this was what he’d always wanted—Sunny waiting for him on their front porch.

  But this wasn’t that Sunny.

  And that porch wasn’t theirs.

  And she’d said she would never love him.

  Her expression didn’t betray much as she crossed her arms and kept her gaze on him. He stopped on the top step and set his hands on his hips. “Thought you were leaving town.”

  “I am. I mean, I… was.” She jerked her chin up, and he could see that she’d been crying recently. He wasn’t sure what was going on and didn’t want to hope that the winds of fate had shifted.

  “So…?” He arched his brow.

  “What’s all this?” Her voice was soft, full of wonder.

  “It’s my house. I haven’t moved in yet, but I’m planning on it next week. Waiting on some furniture and the fridge. They messed up the order and brought the wrong one.” He knew he was hedging and not answering the question she was really asking, but she didn’t deserve an answer. She’d pushed him out and shut the door, so she didn’t get to stick her head back in and make him answer her questions.

  “You know that’s not what I mean,” she said, her voice almost a whisper as she tore her gaze from him and looked around at the crisp gray paint on the floorboards, the swing with the black and white stripes, the shiny black shutters. Ferns swayed on chains extended from the porch ce
iling and the stained glass in the front door threw patterns on the boards. “You built our house.”

  “I built my house.”

  She walked over and picked up the dream book from the porch rail. He’d not noticed it before now. Something wriggly squirmed in his gut.

  “Where’d you get that old relic?” he asked.

  “You didn’t send it to me?”

  “No. I haven’t seen it since high school.” He eyed the book and wondered at the sudden emotion surging inside him. His throat felt scratchy. Something weird floated on the breeze. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and waited on Sunny.

  “Someone left it on my doorstep with this page marked.” She opened the book and the house he’d just built popped out from the depths. Not literally, of course, but it had just as much impact. The house on the page looked like the house he’d built down to the black shutters. He’d known they’d once talked about a farmhouse, and he’d always liked the idea of a cheerful yellow, but he’d damn near copied the exact house.

  “Huh,” he managed.

  “You built this exact house,” she said, her gaze so searching. “Why did you do that, Henry?”

  Because deep down somewhere in his soul, he thought he could make the life they’d once dreamed about. Because he’d watched Field of Dreams too many times and was convinced that if he built it, she would come. Because he loved her and wanted her waiting on that porch for him every day of their lives.

  Or maybe he was just a moron.

  “I guess it imprinted itself so much in my memory that it just happened. I didn’t plan it that way.” He actually hadn’t, but he knew it had been close enough. He’d started building the house way before Sunny had returned to Morning Glory. He’d built it similar to the one she’d wanted and took some measure of comfort that he’d have some tiny piece of something of her. But now he felt exposed in a way he’d not been ready for. “Don’t read something into it that’s not there.”

  She turned and looked at the stained glass transoms. “You used stained glass.”

  Well, she sorta had him there. “Yeah. Katie Clare asked for it.”

  Liar.

  Well, he wasn’t going to admit that he’d built her a house. Because he hadn’t. He’d built it for himself. Pretty much.

  Sunny walked over to the swing and sat down. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  Henry didn’t move. Instead, he watched her, wary. He wasn’t sure if she was upset, flattered, pissed, or embarrassed.

  The hot breeze sent the wind chimes he’d hung into a tinkling fit, and the ferns swayed. Casper the Ghost Cat leaped onto the railing and blinked at both of them.

  “You have a cat?” she asked.

  “Sort of.”

  “It’s not ginger.”

  “No,” he said.

  She kicked the swing into motion. “This is surreal.”

  It was at that moment that Fancy started barking. Henry sucked in a deep breath because that was another thing that had changed in the past week.

  The Boltons had called Grace and told her they couldn’t keep Fancy. Seems she really liked chicken. So much so that she’d killed two. They were afraid to let her loose and didn’t feel it was fair to keep her chained up or confined to a pen. Marie had also mentioned that they hadn’t been adequately prepared for being the owners of such a high-energy pup. They had tried to make it work but eventually accepted they hadn’t chosen the right dog. Grace had driven out and picked up Fancy. He’d happened to call her when she was on her way back into town. Hearing the tears in her voice, paired with the horrible thought that Fancy might have to go to animal control if Grace couldn’t find a foster, had sealed the deal for him.

  He was now fostering Fancy.

  Or rather, he was her new owner. Landry and Katie Clare had been ecstatic over the news, and Henry had to admit he’d enjoyed having her around the past month. He’d kept her up at the barn with him most days, but today he’d shut her in the laundry room because she’d eaten a lizard yesterday and gotten sick.

  “What’s that?” Sunny said, snapping her head toward the house.

  “That’s Fancy.”

  She jumped up and started toward his door. “Fancy? Why do you have her? What is she doing here?”

  He didn’t have time to answer. Sunny opened the door and went inside, her ears obviously pricked toward the barking dog. She bypassed the living room with its heart pine floors and brick fireplace, passed the bright modern kitchen, and wrenched open the door to the laundry room.

  Fancy shot out like a maniac, making keening sounds he’d never heard from the dog. Sunny dropped to the floor, and Fancy went nuts licking her.

  “Fancy Pants. Oh my gosh, Fancy Pants! Mama missed you. Yes, I did. I missed you so much,” Sunny said, wrapping her arms around the dog, tears streaming down her face. She crossed her legs and clasped the dog and then sobbed into her fur. Fancy grew still, almost concerned, her brown eyes shooting toward Henry as if to say, “What is this?”

  Henry leaned against the kitchen island and watched Sunny break down. He wanted to go to her, to scoop her up and cradle her against his chest, but he had no clue of what reaction he might get. Instead, he curled his hands into his pockets and waited.

  Finally she released the dog and sat back, wiping her face. Her chest heaved and her nose ran, and still he’d never seen anything as gorgeous as Sunny Voorhees David sitting on his travertine tile, crying her eyes out. He pulled the clean handkerchief he always carried from his pocket and held it out to her.

  She took it and blew her nose.

  “I’m sorry, Henry. I’m just truly, truly overwhelmed.”

  Fancy danced around Sunny, begging to be petted. Sunny unconsciously stroked the dog’s ears.

  “I see that you are.”

  Struggling to her feet, she held the wadded-up, soggy hankie out to him.

  Henry shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  Her face flushed red. “Right. Uh, I’ll wash it.”

  “Just put it in the laundry room,” he said, extending his arm toward the good-sized room off the kitchen. A new washer and dryer gleamed beside the large sink and cream cabinets.

  She walked into the laundry room and then returned. “Uh, Henry, um, I came out not because I wanted to see the house.” Glancing around, she sighed. “It’s gorgeous and you’re a lucky guy to have this place.”

  “I am. It’s the spot I always wanted, right?”

  “Yeah. It is. This is exactly what I wanted.”

  The unspoken words hung there like heavy fruit waiting to be plucked.

  “You were right.” Sunny sucked in a deep breath and then pushed her hair back.

  “I was?”

  “About me running away.”

  He didn’t say anything because he had no clue which direction she was going with this.

  “So…” She closed her eyes and whispered, “This is so hard.”

  He still didn’t say anything.

  “Uh, the thing is, I’ve been scared to love. I’ve been afraid of losing the person I love because I didn’t want to hurt again. It’s like I’m up to my limit on hurting, you know?”

  “I know all you’ve been through, and though I can’t say I totally understand, I’ve wanted to.”

  Her face softened. “I know. You’ve been more than understanding. But anyway, I figured it would be best to avoid any kind of entanglement that might jeopardize my heart. I thought I could come to Morning Glory, do my duty, and get the hell out. It sounded so easy. But it wasn’t, because I didn’t plan on… on my stupid heart.”

  Henry felt his own heart surge against his chest. “Well, sometimes hearts have a mind of their own. Which seems ironic considering they aren’t supposed to think. Quite the opposite, right?”

  Sunny made a strangled noise of agreement. She ran her finger under her bottom lash and wiped it on her shirt hem. “Yeah. I didn’t plan on you. Or on developing a relationship with my mom. Or Fancy. Or on any of the other people who cast the
ir nets around me and caught me up good.”

  At his nod, she continued. “See, when all that stuff happened with Katie Clare, I realized that I had fallen in love with her, with Morning Glory, with belonging somewhere, and I panicked because that felt really dangerous. Sitting there waiting for that ambulance and then waiting in that hospital… Well, it was like experiencing all the losses I had endured all over again. That precious girl could have died because of me. Then when Jillian said I didn’t belong, it was like an alarm clanging. I wanted to get out before I got hurt. Or hurt someone else.”

  “Jillian shouldn’t have said that. It was wrong of her. She knows that, but in all honesty, as happy as she is with Eddie, she still has a sore spot over you. She knows that she and I didn’t last because I had given my heart to you long ago.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yeah, it kinda is, Sunny.” He walked toward her, hands still tucked away because he was afraid to reach for her and have her turn from him. “Thing is, I fell in love with you the moment I met you. I knew even back then that you were the one for me, so trying to make a marriage with someone else work was disastrous. I tried, but like you just said, sometimes the heart has a mind of its own.”

  She lifted her eyes, and they were so filled with hope it nearly took his breath away. “You’re saying you still love me?”

  “I’m not sure I ever stopped… or can stop, Sunshine.”

  Sunny swallowed hard, tears sliding down her cheeks. He was fresh out of handkerchiefs, but maybe he could offer an alternative to the white square. He stepped toward her. “You said you fell in love with my daughter, the town, but you never said anything about me.”

  Sunny bit her lip. “That’s because you’re the hardest one.”

  Henry stopped midreach. “Why?”

  “I didn’t want to love you. I didn’t. I thought we could never have what we had, and you know what? We can’t. I was a girl with all these crazy ideas of what love is. But I’m not a girl anymore.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I’m a woman. One who is stupid. So stupid for fighting so hard against my heart. Against you.” She bridged the gap between them and reached up to cup his face.