The Hero of Hope Springs

by Maisey Yates

  And he thought he was in love with her. Because that was who he was.

  He had married her, so now he thought he was in love with her. But he wasn’t. And he would go on thinking that for as long as she was his wife, because of course he was a man who would endeavor to love his wife. Of course he was. Because he was good down to his soul. And she was a creature whose own father had been enraged by the sight of her. Whose mother had never once defended her.

  She had stitched herself into the quilt of this family, and they had opened their arms and accepted her, but she wasn’t one of them. They were united by a common tragedy and she had simply come and covered herself in the protective layer they had created for their own selves.

  She was selfish.

  Selfish and needy, and she didn’t think there would ever be an end to it.

  Someday she would look at him. She would look at him and she would ask if he loved her. It brought her to the edge of terror. Because he thought he meant it, he truly did, but someday he would realize that he was in a prison. A prison he hadn’t chosen, but one he had been locked in by his own good intentions. And she wouldn’t be able to bear that. When he looked at her with disgust, too. She would never be able to weather that.

  And she knew then that he could see all of that, that mess of terror, that mess of need, that endless well that would never be filled. That he saw the sad, wounded creature that she was underneath it all.

  That girl who couldn’t control anything, not at all. Who was helpless and frightened and sad. She hid that girl from everyone.

  And she was so confident and sure with her smiles, with her attitude, with the way that she acted around him, and she pretended it was honest. The most honest. That she just said whatever came into her mind; she pretended for him, for everyone, and most especially for herself.

  Now that she was the least able to hide, she saw just how much she did. Only when she had become aware of needing to conceal things from him did she realize that she’d been doing it all along.

  Because that girl...

  How could that girl take what he was offering?

  “Sammy,” he said gruffly.

  She opened her eyes again, and he thrust deep, a spear of pleasure coursing through her. And she gave herself up to him, because she had no other choice. Because when this was over, it would all be over. She had come out here to reclaim something and had found the end.

  Because she had found the center of herself.

  Selfish and needy and small. She wanted to weep with it.

  Because she had been so sure that she would find something glorious and brilliant in all her revelation. In her seeking after a new piece to who she was.

  But she didn’t. Instead, she looked inside herself and found something contemptible.

  A woman who had attached herself to a man who had already been through enough.

  And she knew that it would be up to her to set them both free.

  But she pushed that away for now. Pushed it to the side. Because she could only feel now. And he was in her. He was with her. Making her bright and brilliant and more than she could ever hope to be on her own.

  He lit her up.

  With burning brilliance.

  And that was when she realized that he had always been her sun. Her guiding light. The source of her life. And if she had given him anything it was only because she was reflecting that light back on to him.

  He thrust into her one last time and growled, and she found her release on a sob.

  Ryder.

  Who stood so strong in the wake of insurmountable force.

  She couldn’t bear him not having everything because he was taking care of her instead.

  And she couldn’t bear for the resentment that would breed. And what it would do to her. To their child.

  She had been that child.

  Oh, she and Ryder would never be angry fists and abuse. But resentment could take so many shapes, and twist even good people. In fact, she was certain that in some ways it could twist good people in more subtle, sharp ways.

  He would stay. And stay and stay. No matter what.

  “I have to go,” she whispered, slipping away from him and peeling herself away from the wet grass.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I don’t mean back to the house. I mean... I need to go away.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It was my original plan. To leave here. To go and find some adventure. To find myself.”

  “And you decided the time to revisit that plan would be after you got pregnant with my baby and married me?”

  “I’m not revisiting. I’m... I’m remembering why. Why this was important to me. And I’ve been dealing with all of the... This isn’t going to work.”

  “What do you mean it isn’t going to work? We just made love outside. I’m in love with you. I made vows to you. Nothing says more about how well this could work than that.”

  “Because it’s about me,” she said. “I can’t do this.” As soon as the words tripped off her tongue she felt them rebound against her. She tried to take a breath, but found that she couldn’t. She didn’t know how to articulate all of the things that were rattling around inside her and they would make her feel too exposed anyway. So she decided to lean in to what she let everyone think she was. To what he seemed to think she was sometimes.

  “I told you that I wanted to find myself. I haven’t yet.”

  “Bullshit,” he said. “You don’t mean that. So what is this really about?”

  She was naked with the man. With Ryder. Who she would have said was absolutely 100 percent too much of a stick in the mud to ever be naked out in the middle of the woods. Let alone naked and having this conversation. But he had done this with her, because of her.

  And he said that he loved her.

  Maybe he means it.

  How would he know? He’d had every choice in life taken from him from such an early age. And he was...

  He was beautiful.

  And it reminded her of being seventeen again, to look at him and ache like this. She had wanted so much to join his family. Had watched them over the fence and thought that everything would be perfect if she could just be with them. But it was so much more complicated than that. Oh, how she wished it weren’t. Oh, how she wished it could be that simple.

  “I don’t want to be married,” she said softly. “I told you that. But you pushed me and... And backing off when it comes to declarations of love and all of that... It doesn’t erase the fact that you pushed me into this part. And it isn’t what I want.”

  His face had gone blank, his whole body tense. “Go, then. Do what you need to do. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking for.”

  “And I said that nothing would break us. I said that. And I meant it. I still do. Nothing is going to break us, Sammy, not without our permission. Your permission. I won’t leave you. I won’t forsake you. I’ve been here for you all this time, and I’ll be here when you get back. No questions asked.”

  “That’s the problem,” she said. Anger rioted through her. “That’s the problem. You don’t know what it’s like to choose something because you want it, Ryder Daniels. The only thing you know how to do is to martyr yourself to responsibilities. And I won’t be one more.”

  “So now you get to tell me why I do things? What I feel?”

  “I know you,” she said. “It was never sugar cubes. It was never the sugar cubes. You couldn’t resist the pitiful girl folded up in the corner of your barn. And you took me and you made the best of me just like you did every other thing that’s been thrown at you in your life. And I can’t live in that forever. And you shouldn’t, either.”

  “That’s not it,” he said. “I was a man...a boy...drowning in responsibilities. Absolutely and complet
ely dragged under the water with them. And you... You were my first glimpse of sunlight in all that time. Sammy Marshall, when I saw you I saw salvation and I reached a hand out. You’re right. It was never the sugar cubes. It was you.”

  He cupped her face, his eyes searing into hers. “Your hand. Your face. Your eyes. I wanted you from the moment that I first saw you, and I was willing to love you in the way that I could, in the way that you could take, in the way that it could be for all that time, but it’s over now. The time for waiting. The time for holding back.”

  “I think that you believe that. I really do. But I don’t think it’s true. I think there’s more at play here than that. And I just... It’s not the life I want.” She sucked in a sharp breath, and she prepared to do one thing that she had never done to him before.

  “Why?”

  “I never wanted love. I didn’t ask for it. Don’t keep me caged. You know I can’t stand that.”

  He nodded once. “Sure. But I need you to know something. I’m not your father. And if you look at me and ask me for love, you won’t get my fist. You’ll just get my heart.”

  “I know that,” she said. “Don’t you think I know it? And it doesn’t make this any easier. But I won’t live a life that I don’t want. I was born into one. I’ll never stay in one. Our child deserves more than that.”

  Those last words burned. Because she was lying. And using the baby along with it. And he might not thank her now. He might hate her now. But he would’ve only hated her later. And that... That would have been unendurable.

  The cost.

  The cost of waiting for a punch—not to her face—but to her soul. That was the one thing she couldn’t fathom.

  To take away all her protective layers and to be destroyed later. When her walls were down.

  By the one person that she wanted to trust. That she wanted. More than anything.

  “I think that later you’ll understand,” she said. “I’m protecting us.”

  “I’ve walked away from you a number of times,” he said. “The time I first tasted you in the camper. After the first time we had sex, I let you walk away. And I didn’t say anything. I’m not going to walk away now. And I’m not going to let you walk away without hearing this. You’re running scared, baby. I know you. Nobody else knows you the way that I do. And I can see it. And that’s why you’re running. Because you’re scared of something. You let me rescue you once. You let me fight for you. Let me fight for you now. Trust me.”

  “You’re right. You did rescue me. And you’ve done it a hell of a lot more than once. I can’t rely on you to do that forever. I have to go out and figure out how to rescue myself. Otherwise... If I lose you I’ll be left with nothing. I’ll be nothing more than a sad, spineless... I’ll be my mother. I can’t. For our baby I can’t.”

  “And what about me? Where will I fit? Because I’m not going to be a favorite uncle, Sammy. I am his father, and I will be a father.”

  His eyes were hard, blazing with emotion, and she couldn’t bear to look at him. “No, of course... I’m not... I’ll never keep the baby from you, Ryder, but that’s not us. I can’t do us.”

  And so she did walk away. And she had to swim across the damn river, crawl out naked and shivering and disgraced, rather than feeling cherished and sensual as she had done when she’d been carried into the river. She gathered her clothes, and she dressed. And he was still standing there watching her. True to his word, he wasn’t gone. True to his word, he remained. So damn loyal. So damn fearless.

  Not her.

  She was a coward.

  But she couldn’t face the alternative. So cowardice it was.

  But as she went back to the camper and looked around at the tiny place she had not called home now for over a week, she knew that it was more than cowardice. Whatever she was doing required that she leave her heart behind.

  But she was afraid of it. Because it hurt. Because it was shattered.

  But if she left it behind, maybe she could keep on breathing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  IT WASN’T UNTIL Ryder woke up the next morning and saw that the camper was gone that he truly believed what Sammy had said.

  She had left him.

  She had left him.

  His wife. His love.

  Sammy.

  She hadn’t taken all of her things out of their room, but she had taken her jewelry. And as the sun rose up over the mountains, he didn’t go out and do his work. Instead, he prepared a bowl of fruit like he had done every morning and left it in her spot. Then he went out to the front porch and sat in one of the wooden chairs. And just sat. Sat until the sun was far too high up over those mountains. Until the sun had lit up the world around him and illuminated it in stark reality, made it impossible for him to pretend that maybe it was a dream.

  He’d said that he loved her, and she’d thrown it back at him.

  She’d told him that he never had a choice.

  But he did. He could’ve chosen to stay in his fear, to stay in his grief, and he had chosen bravery. But those words hadn’t been there. Not then. Because all that had been there was shock. He had believed that nothing could break them. But it turned out that she could.

  And he was turning it all over in his head, trying to figure out where he might have let it break.

  It was Logan who found him. Damn his friend.

  “I was expecting to see you out in the fields.”

  “Well,” Ryder said. “I’m not in the fields.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Yep. Now get on with yourself.”

  “Why exactly aren’t you out working the fields?”

  “None of your damn business.”

  “Something happened with Sammy, didn’t it?”

  “And how the hell do you know that? Always so fucking insightful, aren’t you? Asking me if I’m in love with her. Telling me I’m in love with her. Now you know something happened.”

  “Not because I’m particularly insightful, but because her camper’s gone. What the hell did you do?”

  “Loved her,” he ground out. “I fucking loved her. I gave her everything that she could have asked for. But she didn’t ask for it. Never once. In fact, she gave it back. She doesn’t want me to love her. She says I don’t have a choice but to take care of her and I don’t know what I want. Like I’m a kid. I haven’t been a kid since I was one. You want to talk about dealing with shit? I lost my parents, and then I had to become a parent. I am a hell of a lot more in touch with my feelings than most. And a hell of a lot more in touch with them than I would like to be, I can tell you that.”

  Logan nodded slowly. “Look. I don’t actually know anything about relationships. I’m as bad a bet as there even exists. I know so little about love it’s not even funny. But I know you. And I know her. And I know that she must feel like she’s taken an awful lot from you for someone who wasn’t blood. Because I know that I sure as hell feel that way. And indebted to you. In a way that... I can’t even put into words.”

  “I don’t want you to owe me, not any of you.”

  “But of course we do. Look at you. This is your life. You didn’t do anything else. You didn’t go anywhere else, because of us.”

  “Neither did you.”

  His friend looked at him, long and hard.

  “Well, what the hell, Logan? Is this some kind of indentured servitude?”

  “This was the most stable, secure family experience I ever had. Staying in it isn’t a hardship. But yeah, I owe you one. I’m glad that Jake and Colt felt like they could move on. But I never did. Maybe because we’re not blood. Maybe I thought I owed you a little bit of a stronger oath for that reason. I think Sammy is just scared. Scared as hell.”

  “Well, she’s gone. So I can’t ask her.”

  That seemed to make Logan shut up. But Ryder wasn’t sure
he liked that any better. Because in some ways it was better if his friend was being relentless. Because at least then the other man had some hope, or an idea. Ryder himself didn’t have either.

  “Well?” Ryder pressed.

  “No,” Logan said. “You have a point. She’s not here. And you know what? I think that’s the whole point. She’s going to have to solve this on her own, and you can’t do it for her.”

  “Well, I don’t like that at all.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Logan said. “You’re a fixer who wants to fix everything for everyone. But that’s exactly what she’s worried about. That you’re out there married to her just because you want to fix her problems.”

  “I love her so much I feel sick. That’s why I married her. It’s not martyrdom or sacrifice or anything like it.”

  “Sure. But she doesn’t believe that. And you’re going to have to accept the fact that you’re not going to be able to make her. She’s going to have to figure it out herself. She’s going to have to trust you.”

  “And if she never does?”

  “I think she will. She trusted you enough back when she was a teenager.”

  “Well, it was me or her old man. I suppose I seemed like the safer bet.”

  “Sure. Maybe. Though if you think about it, she had no reason to believe that you would be any less dangerous. She didn’t know you. And she was taking her chances on her father finding out that she was meeting with you and getting angry with her. This place was enough for her to take that risk. You were enough. You’re just going to have to trust that she thinks so again. And the best thing you can do is find a way to show her that you’re living a life that you chose.”

  “But I’m not,” he said. “I’m living one without her. And it’s terrible. It’s damned terrible.”

  “Sure. Except you’re still here. You’re still right where you were when your parents died. You didn’t choose that. And you chose to stick this out, to take care of us. But now you’re still here.”

  “And what would you like me to do?”

  “Move on.”

  He could only stare at Logan, because he couldn’t even begin to fathom moving on.