“Unfortunately, I’m not here to gossip about young love,” he said grimly. “Although I’d like to hear more about Ella’s business proposition, because I got a call from Mr. Leeds’s attorney this morning. Apparently, Mr. Leeds is getting impatient.”
All of a sudden, it was there between them, as solid and impenetrable as a brick wall—Harrison’s proposal.
Jo’s refusal.
“I still have a couple of weeks on the grace period they promised,” Jo said tightly. “Are they going back on that?”
“No. But I think the attorney was hoping to get an idea of what your plans are for coming up with the money.” He raised his bushy brows. “I admit, I’m more than a little curious about that, myself.”
Finding refuge in movement, Jo turned back to her truck. Those feed bags weren’t going to unload themselves. “Well, I’m sorry you made the drive all the way out here for nothing, but you can tell Mr. Leeds and his attorney they’ll have my plans by the end of May, as agreed.”
“Jo.” His quiet voice stopped her in the act of reaching for the first stack of bags. “That’s not the only reason I drove out here. I miss you.”
Oh, now that was just unfair. She’d never had any defense against him when he went all frank and honest on her.
Jo scrambled to get her legs back under her. She needed to find her footing in this conversation, or she’d end up agreeing to anything that might bring a smile back to Harrison McNamara’s handsome, weathered face.
“I miss you, too. But my answer hasn’t changed.”
Frustration sharpened his tone. “You’re not thinking this through.”
She heaved one of the fifty-pound burlap sacks of feed over her shoulder and marched off toward the barn before she exploded. “No, you’re the one who hasn’t thought it through. Say I marry you, the debt gets paid off, my home and the stables are saved … then what?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Then we live happily ever after with our beautiful daughters, who all fall in love with good men like Grady and never leave Sanctuary Island?”
Tossing the bag to the ground, Jo rounded on him with fire rising in her face, hot enough to blow the top off her skull. “Listen to yourself! This isn’t a fairy tale—this is real life. Can you honestly tell me you’d live happily ever after with me and never wonder if I’d only married you to get myself out of debt?”
Harrison planted his hands on his trim hips, pulling his black polo shirt tight across the barrel of his chest. He looked mad now, too, and some part of Jo heaved a sigh of relief.
Fighting, she could handle. It was when he broke out the vulnerability, let her see beneath the suave, charming banker to the decent, loyal, imperfect, struggling single dad underneath that Jo got into trouble.
The muscle below his left ear ticked, the way it always did when he ground his teeth. “Do you remember what you told me on our first date? You said you wanted to take it slow, and given your history—and mine, for that matter—I certainly understood. Things were good between us; at least, I thought so. You certainly helped me see that life was still worth something, that there could be joy in the world after Carol died. I’d like to think I did the same for you. But Jo, ten years isn’t taking things slow—it’s being stuck in the mud. And now you’ve come up with yet another excuse, the same way you do every time I try to take us to the next level.”
“Now hold it right there. My daughters finally being ready to reconcile with me was not an excuse!” Jo bit out. “It was my one chance to finally get everything I ever wanted, but it wasn’t going to be handed to me on a silver platter. It was hard enough getting them to trust me and open their hearts to me—I couldn’t risk how much harder it would’ve been to introduce them to a whole new ready-made family that didn’t include them.”
“I know.” The lines around his whiskey-brown eyes softened and the line of his shoulders dropped. “I get it, Jo. And I’m glad that’s working out for you. But it’s hard to face the fact that there’s no room for me—for Taylor and me—in the life you always wanted.”
Jo’s skin felt too tight, her body stiff and distant, like a cage around her heart. “That’s not what … I never meant to hurt you. And Taylor will always be like a daughter to me.”
“I believe you, and I appreciate it.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket and jingled them restlessly, avoiding her eyes. “But I wish I could believe what we had together ever meant a damn thing to you.”
She pushed out a shaky breath. “You know that it did. I love you, Harrison.”
“Right.” He smiled faintly, but his eyes were dark and distant again. “It’s just our timing that needs some work, I guess. I’ll wait to hear from you about the lien, if you want me to go with you to the meeting with Leeds and the lawyer.”
“Thank you. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”
So many more words crowded Jo’s chest, fighting and kicking to get out. But what could she say, really? Nothing she could say would help this situation.
She couldn’t do what he wanted. She refused to marry him with the specter of this money between them. It would be like adding a third person onto the marriage license—one who wanted nothing more than to make trouble.
And her relationships with her girls were only now starting to get better—she was still afraid to risk rocking that boat, and Harrison knew it.
What he didn’t know, and what she couldn’t tell him as he turned and trudged off to his car without a backward glance, was how tempted she was to say yes.
Marrying Harrison McNamara would be a dream—but Jo would spend the rest of her life knowing that when it finally came time for her to stand on her own two feet, the way Aunt Dottie taught her, she’d stumbled and clutched for the nearest support.
No, there was no way a marriage between Jo and Harrison right now could work. And as he’d said, ten years was a long time to wait.
She could only hope that his patience held out a little longer.
*
Ella stood in the darkness just inside the barn and reflected that her coming-to-terms-with-stuff muscles were getting quite the workout this month.
She’d been looking for Jo to ask her a question about one of the exercises Grady couldn’t recall with perfect clarity when she’d seen her mother facing off with that handsome older man.
The tension between them was palpable at fifty paces, and Ella was about to fade back and let them have it out when she heard her own name.
Even telling herself it was none of her business, and anyone who eavesdropped deserved whatever they ended up hearing about themselves, she couldn’t stop herself from sliding back into the shadows behind the open barn door and listening in.
And what she heard changed everything, rearranged her preconceived notions as if someone had upended the box of puzzle pieces that made up her ideas about her mother, and shook them out all over the floor.
She waited until Harrison McNamara was in his big SUV and driving away down the gravel road before stepping out of the barn.
Ella watched Jo, whose shoulders had slumped the instant Harrison’s truck disappeared into the pines, reach down to heft the bag she’d dropped in the midst of her argument.
The question beat at Ella’s chest like a trapped bird.
“Was he right?”
At her voice, Jo dropped the bag again and pivoted, dismay written all over her face. “Ella!”
Unable to stay still, Ella paced closer, her hands clasped around her elbows, fingers digging in. “Harrison. I knew you’d been together, off and on, but … He asked you to marry him?”
Jo’s eyes closed briefly, a spasm of pain tightening her mouth. But her gaze was clear when she met Ella’s stare. “He did.”
“And you turned him down, because of us.” Ella could hardly take it in.
“There were a lot of factors,” Jo hedged, as if she wanted to keep Ella from feeling guilty.
Ella shook her head. “But he said he’d asked you other times. Before t
he debt?”
She waited for Jo’s reluctant nod before asking again, “So was he right? Was it just an excuse? Were we your easy way out of a marriage proposal you didn’t want?”
Shivers ran through her as she posed the question, and part of her couldn’t believe how much the answer mattered to her. Especially when she was almost certain she knew what Jo was about to say.
Jo stood silent for a long beat. Ella saw the moment her mother decided to tell her the truth.
“No.” Jo tipped up her chin. “I love him. I want to be with him. But sometimes that’s not enough. And sometimes rushing to grab what you want means you lose out on what really matters.”
Ella heard what Jo wasn’t saying. She and Merry—they were what mattered to their mother. Them, and her own self-respect. And Jo was willing to deny herself what she wanted, even though Ella could see how deeply it hurt her.
“I told Grady I believe people can change.” Ella had to force the words out of her tight, scratchy throat. “But the truth is, I didn’t want to believe that about you, because that would mean I’d have to leave room for the possibility of forgiving you.”
Jo’s eyes went wide. “Honey, no. I’m not trying to guilt you into anything.”
“I know that.” Ella shook her head, a little amazed at herself. “I really know it. Which must mean…”
“What?”
Ella could feel the surprise on her own face as she gazed at the woman she’d sworn never to believe in again. “I think it means I want to forgive you.”
Something fragile came into Jo’s eyes, incongruous and wrong in that strong-boned face. “Ella. You don’t have to. I know what I was like. Your father…” Her throat worked. “He was right to take you away. Some things are unforgivable.”
“Maybe,” Ella said slowly. “But regardless, I don’t want to be the kind of person who’s so closed off and afraid of being hurt that I can’t see what’s right in front of me.”
As if she couldn’t help herself, Jo made a motion toward Ella, her tanned arms lifting slightly. But she stopped still, and Ella knew she’d have to be the one to make the first move.
It was harder than it should’ve been, after everything that had happened in the last few weeks, but as she stepped into the circle of her mother’s arms and felt them close around her for the first time in fifteen years, Ella knew a moment like this couldn’t be rushed.
Emotion clogged her throat, wanting to push out of her mouth as a sob, or maybe a laugh—everything was jumbled up inside her. But she forced herself to stay put, to let the feelings wash over her and through her, and to return her mother’s hug until her heartbeat slowed back to something resembling normal.
She pulled away, and Jo let her go reluctantly. Sniffling, Ella gave her a watery smile and said, “About the rest of what you and Harrison were discussing.”
Jo seemed to read the plea for a return to less emotional topics in Ella’s eyes. “My debt to Mr. Leeds. You knew about that already.”
“I’ve been working on some changes to the proposal I gave you before.” Unaccountably nervous, Ella had to struggle not to fidget. “I’d like to go over it with you again. And maybe with Harrison, too, since he mentioned wanting to know the details?”
“He’s really the one to convince,” Jo agreed.
“That we have a viable enough moneymaking idea to warrant a loan,” Ella said, nodding firmly. “To cover the lien and save Windy Corner.”
Jo covered her eyes with one hand, mouth trembling.
Alarmed, Ella said, “Are you okay?”
Blowing out a breath, Jo lowered her hand to show blue eyes brimming with tears. “More than okay. You said ‘we.’ It’s a little thing. I know it doesn’t mean anything, but…”
Understanding warmed Ella all the way through to her bones. “No, it does mean something.”
It still felt strange, but somehow right, to reach out and lay a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “We’re in this together. Windy Corner is part of my history, too, and Merry’s. We’re going to help you keep it.”
The dawning joy on Jo’s face bolstered Ella’s courage. It almost made up for how nervous she was at the prospect of finally letting Grady in on her big idea. As soon as she got confirmation from the bank that her plan had merit, she’d figure out the right place and time to tell him.
But as she grabbed one of the feed bags from the back of Jo’s truck and followed her mother into the barn with it, Ella realized she had hope.
She actually hoped she might have figured out a way to have it all.
CHAPTER 27
The knock on his front door had Grady cursing and flinging soapy water all over the kitchen counter before he unearthed a dish towel to dry off with.
The old Fortress of Solitude wasn’t quite as impregnable as it used to be, pre-Ella, but it wasn’t exactly Union Station.
Frowning, Grady ducked down the hallway, wondering who it could be. Ella had told him she had a business meeting this morning, so he assumed she was still out at her mom’s house. He grinned, picturing her on her little cell phone headset, wheeling and dealing long distance.
Heck, if that worked, if she could run her business from here—maybe she’d see her way clear to staying on Sanctuary for good. Things between them had been so amazing since she extended her trip, Grady couldn’t help but want more.
He opened his door and felt his eyebrows shoot up at the sight of his young cousin bouncing on the balls of her sneaker-clad feet.
Taylor slapped a manila folder impatiently against the wooden door frame. “I know you don’t like people to stop by without calling first,” she said, pushing past him and into the living room. “But this is an emergency.”
Grady watched her pace the perimeter of the striped rag rug he’d picked up at the craft fair in the square last summer. Taylor wasn’t a calm, easy girl on the best of days—she registered at about a twelve out of ten on the overreaction scale, and she had a well-developed, if understandable, tendency toward melodrama.
Whatever had spun her up this morning must be a lulu, Grady mused, taking in the hectic flush on her cheeks and the haphazard mess of her dark blond hair. “What now?”
“Don’t do that.” She pointed at him, never stopping in her quest to wear a path around the rug. “Don’t ‘what now’ me. Not until you hear what I just found out.”
Grady kept his eyes from rolling through a heroic exertion of will. “So tell me.”
After a thrilling pause, Taylor brandished the folder she’d brought with her like a lawyer in a movie presenting a winning closing argument. “Your little girlfriend is a bitch.”
“Watch your mouth,” he growled, feeling the hackles rise at the nape of his neck. Damn it, he knew Taylor was having a hard time of it lately, but he wasn’t going to let anyone talk about Ella like that.
Righteous indignation burned in Taylor’s narrowed glare. “Oh, she has everyone fooled. You’re completely whipped and useless, and now she’s got Jo walking around like she won the lottery, just because Miss Perfect Ella deigns to speak to her. But it’s all a lie.”
Anger spiked through his confusion and sharpened his voice. “No, it’s not. You don’t know Ella—you haven’t even tried to get to know her or Merry. You don’t understand how much it’s cost Ella to be here, to give Jo a chance.”
You don’t understand what she’s given me.
Taylor’s mouth pulled down in a grimace, but it was the pity in her tone that roughed a chill down Grady’s spine. “I hate to be the one to break it to you—I honestly do. But Ella’s presence on the island is going to cost all of us, everyone who loves Sanctuary and wants to keep it the way it is.”
“Explain.”
“I don’t have to.” She held up the folder. “See for yourself.”
Feeling stupidly as if he were asking for a punch in the face, Grady held out a hand. With an air of vindication, Taylor forked over the folder and crossed her arms over her chest.
Trying to conv
ince himself this was going to turn out to be Taylor throwing a hissy fit, Grady opened the file.
His heart stopped.
A page fluttered free of the folder, and he bent slowly to pick it up off the rug. It was a color image, a picture of Jo’s house all fixed up, looking remarkably similar to the vision he had in his head of how it would be after he finished the repairs. But out front, next to the paved circular drive, was a sign that spelled out WINDY CORNER BED & BREAKFAST in fancy curlicue letters.
“Jo called me last night, and we talked. I was ready to admit maybe I’d been a little sulky and unfriendly, whatever, so I went out to the barn this morning. But no one was there. And I found that in Jo’s office,” Taylor said, sounding more subdued. He could only imagine what the look on his face was telling her.
He didn’t even know how he felt, what to do or say other than to look through the rest of the papers in the folder. Profit-and-loss projections, sample promotional materials, speculation on Sanctuary Island’s potential as a tourist destination.
It was laid out in black and white, real and undeniable. Proof that Ella had come to the island looking to make money off her mother’s recent inheritance.
Proof that she didn’t understand anything he’d told her about what made Sanctuary so special—or that she didn’t care.
Evidently, she didn’t care about much beyond turning a profit.
Dropping the folder as if it were covered in manure, Grady moved blindly in the direction of the cabinet in the corner and found the bottle of bourbon collecting dust in the bottom cupboard.
Glass? No. The kitchen was too far away. Twisting the cap off, he took a slug, eyes watering at the burn.
“So you didn’t know.” Taylor’s voice was muffled through the ringing in Grady’s ears. “I wondered.”
He snorted, took another drink. “No.”
“I wanted to ask Jo about it—I actually went to the house to confront her,” Taylor said, crouching to gather the pages back into the folder. “But she wasn’t around.”
A prickle of foreboding pierced through the fog of betrayal and disappointment clouding Grady’s brain. “Did you see Merry when you were out at the barn or at the house?”
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