Silent Hearts (Hamilton Stables 3)

by Melissa West

  Finally, the photo session ended, and Nick had started toward the main crowd to search for her when Trip stopped him. “What’s going on with you and Becca?”

  “What do you mean?” He scanned the crowd but came up empty. Surely she wouldn’t leave. Though after that debacle, could he blame her?

  “It’s just—”

  “Aren’t you the one who told me I was in love with her and should be with her? And besides, what’s wrong with Becca?”

  “She’s not the problem here. You are. Why didn’t you ask her to join the photo? If you’re serious about her, if she’s it for you, why not have her in the family picture?” Trip stared at him and Nick stared back, his entire body numb with guilt.

  He lifted an arm in Mayor Phillip’s direction. “The mayor said family only.”

  “So? That was our photo, not the mayor’s. You could have had Patty in it for all it mattered. So why did you let the mayor make Becca feel like she’s not as important to you as Emery is to me, Kate to Alex?”

  “Emery’s your wife and Kate is Alex’s wife. Becca’s not my wife.”

  “But she could be, and she’s definitely been in and around our family long enough to be in that picture. But you didn’t want her there. Just like you have no intention of marrying her, and that’s not fair to her. This, whatever the hell it is you’re doing, isn’t fair to her. It’s selfish, just like this shit with Industries, and it’s time you put the rest of us before yourself.”

  Nick opened his mouth to speak, but once again, no words came out. He glanced around as if for help, but there was no way out of this. No one to support his stupidity. Because Trip was right.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Pull yourself together, man. Before you wreck the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” Trip walked away, leaving Nick standing there, unable to move or speak or think. What the hell was he thinking during that photo session?

  He wasn’t.

  The mayor had called out the very thing Becca was worried about, and Nick had let him. He owed her an apology, but how could he apologize without revealing the deeper issues there? At the end of the day, when it was all said and done, he wasn’t sure about their future. Not really. He cared for Becca, more than he’d ever cared about anyone, including Britt, yet he knew he wouldn’t propose.

  The pain of losing Becca would destroy him, put the final nail in his coffin. It was basic human instinct to protect oneself from harm, and that was what Nick was doing.

  So why had he even started this with Becca? What was the plan or purpose there? Hell if there was one, and now he’d hurt the one person he cared about most.

  Damn it all to hell.

  He had to find her, and fast, before she figured out what Trip had, and ended things with Nick for good.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Becca’s chest hurt and her cheeks were still so prickly from the humiliation of it all that she worried the red might never disappear.

  Just like the ache in her heart.

  Only the Hamiltons.

  Right. And she wasn’t a Hamilton. She would never, ever be a Hamilton. But why didn’t Nick say something? Defend her? Why didn’t he shout out that it didn’t matter if she was a Hamilton, she was with him?

  And that was when Becca realized the truth—Nick might care about her but he didn’t love her. Not the way she wanted to be loved and not the way she loved him.

  What in the hell was she thinking, getting involved with Nick? There were some crushes that were never meant to be realized. Sort of like that obsession she’d had with Johnny Depp during the Pirates of the Caribbean years. There was no happily ever after for her and Johnny. And there was no happily ever after for her and Nick. Only where the Johnny thing had been easy to shrug off—after all, Johnny Depp didn’t exactly live a few doors away—Nick wasn’t so easy to dismiss.

  The pain in her heart, coupled with the kind of humiliation that one should never have to face, weighed so heavily on her that she needed to find a quick place to hide before the whole town saw the truth. She loved him . . . and he didn’t love her back.

  And there was the real problem—she didn’t just care for Nick. She loved him. Good God, she loved him. So much that she’d never once stopped to think whether she should love him, whether it was worth risking her dignity and self-respect to be with him. Because while she might just be Triple Run’s waitress of the year, she did have a place in the town. People waved and smiled at her, they appreciated her role in making the town function.

  Now she was just the stupid woman who’d blindly thought she could have a future with a man who’d buried his future years ago. She was an idiot.

  Needing a break from the stares and a place to hide until she could control her emotions, she disappeared inside Triple Run Recruiting to visit Priscilla.

  “Hey, honey,” Priscilla said with jubilance as she came out of her office. “I’d have thought you’d be out there enjoying the festivities with that fine man of yours.”

  Becca felt tears bubbling up and tried her best to swallow them back. She wasn’t a crier, and the idea of doing it now, something half the town already knew would happen, made her feel like a stupid woman. Though maybe she was a stupid woman.

  “But see, that’s the thing. I don’t think he is mine. Not really. I don’t think he’ll ever be mine. And I don’t know what to make of that. I don’t know how to continue on if there’s only a wall before me.”

  She drew a rattled breath, blinking back tears that refused to stop. “You must think I’m crazy, coming here talking all this nonsense. I just ... well, I don’t have anybody else. My sister’s ridiculous and my mama and daddy live out of state, and the only real family I have here are the Hamiltons, though, apparently, that was all just in my head, and now . . .” Tears rained down and she was unable to stop them, a lifetime of pent-up hurt spilling over, and Becca wondered when exactly she became this mess of a woman. Her bottom lip trembled as she peered back up at Priscilla. “I’m sorry.”

  “Aw, honey, we all need a good cry sometimes, and I’m more than happy to be the one to hear it. You come here whenever you like. I actually don’t have anybody either, so maybe we could be there for each other. How’s that sound?”

  Becca nodded slowly, a fresh sob starting, and Priscilla started for her, just as the shop’s door opened and Priscilla’s gaze swung over, then back to Becca.

  “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you, and Charlotte said she thought you came in here, and I said no, but then . . .” Nick trailed off, and Becca tried frantically to clean up her face with her shirt sleeve. “Bec . . .”

  Sure she had no choice, she turned slowly and smiled weakly. “Well, you found me.” Her voice broke right along with her heart, and the devilish tears refused to stop their evil reign over her face.

  “I’m such an asshole.”

  “I’ll second that,” Priscilla said, “but I’ll give you two a minute.” She stepped around Nick, patting his shoulder, and then disappeared out of her shop.

  Immediately, Nick started for her. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know why I didn’t step in and tell the mayor to screw himself, that you were my family and belonged in that picture. That it didn’t matter what your last name was, that you’ve been a Hamilton since the moment I met you. I just . . .”

  “Didn’t.” Becca worked to wipe away the tears, but they refused to stop. She was a soaked mess now, her throat thick from crying, her eyes puffy, her nose running away. “Dammit.” She walked over and grabbed a tissue from Priscilla’s desk. “I don’t do this.”

  “I know.”

  “You made me do this.”

  “I know that, too.”

  Becca stopped to look at him and the pang in her chest worsened. She thought of all their years around each other, all the jokes and pranks and fun, only to end up here. The joke was on her. “No, I’m wrong. It wasn’t you, it’s me.”

  Nick waved his hands. “No, no, it’s d
efinitely me. One hundred and fifty percent me. I just don’t know how to fix it. Just ... can you not leave? Can you give me a chance to fix myself? To be what you need? I know I’m not a whole man anymore, that I’m some ghost of a person, but I want to be more. For you, I want to be more. Just please ... can we try?” He edged closer to her, and though she wanted to step away, to protect her heart from this man who’d owned it since she was old enough to give it away, she couldn’t. Because hearts didn’t work that way, and love never had understood good sense.

  Tentatively, Nick reached out for her hand and she let him, more because she needed to feel like there was hope than anything else, and though that made her as weak as they came, there it was. She had never claimed to be strong about Nick anyway.

  “I’m sorry,” Nick repeated. “Unbelievably sorry.”

  “I know.”

  He ran a hand over her cheek, catching a tear. “This is only the third time I’ve ever seen you cry. The first was when your grandmother died, and now twice I’ve caused you tears.”

  Becca shrugged, not wanting to talk about the crying or what it meant. For now, she just wanted to feel better. The rest could be dealt with tomorrow, when her emotions weren’t all over the place and she could think properly.

  Only would a day change anything? She would still love him and he would still refuse to love her back.

  “I think I should go home. Alone.”

  “Can we go back to my place instead? Talk? You can throw things at me if you’d like. I had plans to make you the best dinner of your life.”

  “The throwing thing is tempting.” She hesitated. “The best dinner of my life, huh?” Becca tried to smile, though she couldn’t quite make it work. She was still so sad and embarrassed. She had no idea what would fix the hurt in her chest, but pushing Nick away certainly wouldn’t. “I am kind of hungry.”

  Nick kissed her temple and held her close. “I’ll fix this. With the town and with you. Please don’t give up on us yet.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” Nick took her hand and they walked out of Priscilla’s. There were so many people that while she felt sure some were watching them, most were busy with their own lives. Laughing with their kids, buying goodies, living. And despite whatever happened between her and Nick, it was time for her to live, too.

  For the first time, she was glad she’d applied to the colleges. They might all say no, but at least she was trying—living.

  It took a surprisingly short amount of time to make it to Nick’s house, considering neither of them spoke. Becca stayed focused out her window, and the few times she glanced over at Nick, she’d catch worry lines creasing his face before he’d smile at her, putting on a show.

  She wanted to ask what was really going on in his head, but for once she was scared to know. Confirmation of all the things she feared could break her completely, and right now she just wanted to enjoy their time together. As short as it might be.

  Nick opened her car door and they walked on into his house.

  “I’ll get dinner going.”

  Becca nodded. “Is it okay if I use the bathroom? You know, get cleaned up?”

  “You’ve never asked before.”

  Becca stared at him. He was right. Never once had she felt so uneasy in his house, so out of her element. Normally, she came and went as she pleased, but her skin felt too thin and her heart too heavy, and she didn’t know how to be right now, feeling like such a shell of a person.

  “Right,” she finally said, unsure of what else to say, and then she disappeared down the hall, glad to be away from Nick for a moment so she could think. And that’s when her gaze landed on Britt’s office, the door closed. She knew she should continue on to the next door, the bathroom, but she couldn’t seem to make her feet work.

  It had been years since she’d been in that room and she could scarcely remember what it looked like, but Becca wondered if Nick had left it untouched. Had he cleaned out the room and turned it into something else, a small workout room or something? Or was he holding on to his dead fiancée by keeping the room exactly as it had been? That singular difference would let her know if they had a chance or if he would always be tied to a ghost.

  She had to know.

  Peering back down the hall, she listened to the sound of Nick rummaging around in the kitchen. This was wrong—so, so wrong. But she couldn’t walk past this room after what had just happened at the festival without checking. After all, there had been photos of the family at the festival back then, too, and Britt had been in them. She and Nick weren’t married yet, she wasn’t yet a Hamilton, and yet he’d openly asked her to join the family photo.

  Which was maybe what made it sting that much more that Becca hadn’t been included. Britt had been his family, even before they were legally bound, so why not Becca?

  Her hand found its way to the doorknob even as she scolded herself over and over, ordering herself to walk away, be the good girl she’d always been, but she was tired of being that girl. That woman, because honestly, it’d been a long time since she was a girl, and yet she didn’t feel like she’d experienced the trials and tribulations of life that turned a girl into a woman.

  “Do or die.” And then she cracked the door open. With one more glance down the hall, she stepped inside the room, her heart pounding in her chest, her pulse in her ears, her eyes burning.

  Because the room was exactly as she remembered it, not a single thing moved, like a fossil perfectly preserved within Nick’s house.

  The back wall was all windows cradled in plaid drapes. Against the left wall stood floor-to-ceiling shelves, slap full of every book imaginable. Britt’s wide black desk sat against the right wall, a leather armchair in front of it, an ivory throw tossed over the chair.

  Becca pictured Britt in there working, the throw draped around her shoulders, a cup of coffee on her desk, the day just beginning. Birds would sing outside her window, the air would be cool, that smile she wore like a favorite sweater would forever rest on her face. Even in the earliest parts of the day, when nobody smiled, Britt would smile. No wonder he’d loved her so much.

  God, what was she doing in there?

  Fresh tears filled her eyes and she reached out to steady herself, only to knock the throw to the floor. Frantically she reached down for it, praying she hadn’t gotten it dirty, just as she heard the hinges on the office door whine and then—“What are you doing in here?” And then a sharp intake of breath and fast footsteps as he reached down and took the throw from Becca’s hands. “What did you do?” He fought to put the throw back over the chair in the exact way it had been before.

  “I didn’t mean to. I was reaching for the chair and knocked it over. I—”

  “You shouldn’t be in here at all.”

  At the cold tone in his voice, Becca’s eyes began to water again, but she wouldn’t cry. Not now. Pushing away the hurt, she took a step away from the man she loved. “Take me home.” There was a lot Becca could take, but being treated like this wasn’t one of them. She had been there for Nick through everything, and if her walking into Britt’s old office and accidentally knocking something over was enough for him to look at her like that, talk to her like that, then she was done.

  Nick’s gaze jerked from the throw to Becca, the rage quickly replaced with horror, then fear, and finally sadness. “Bec, I shouldn’t have ... I don’t know why I—”

  “Take me home!”

  Nick flinched, but then his shoulders slumped and he nodded in defeat. “I’ll grab my keys.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Come on, Bec, answer. Please answer.” Nick’s cell rang away, his hand tight around it like it could somehow fix this situation. But there was no fixing this. No, he had royally screwed up. No flowers, no chocolate, no apology could undo this mess.

  It had been a week since the incident in Britt’s office, and still, he couldn’t figure out what had happened. Why he’d reacted that way.

  Not only had he overreacted b
ut he’d treated Becca like she was a stranger, an enemy—there to mess up Britt’s perfect room. And why had he kept her office so pristine anyway? Who cared? Britt would have made fun of him if she were still alive, accused him of being a hoarder, of staying still instead of moving forward. And she would be right. But every time Nick tried to go into the room, he’d freeze and back out, unable to face all those emotions. Like he was a fragile twig in an ice storm, just trying to keep from breaking.

  Still, he’d told himself he would keep all of that separate from Becca, who had been his savior over the years. Time and time again she’d proven to be the only light leading him home. She was brightness to Britt’s death’s darkness, and when the two worlds collided, he hadn’t known how to deal.

  But how could he explain that he wasn’t trying to hurt her, that he didn’t mean to make her feel like an outsider in his life?

  He couldn’t.

  Because actions and perceptions were reality, and there was no talking his way out of this horror.

  Becca’s voice from her voice mail greeting filled the void, sweet and Southern to the core, and his heart twisted a bit tighter. “Bec, it’s me. Again. I am so sorry. I don’t know what overcame me. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just ... please call me.”

  He hung up and started into the office, pissed at the world. It wasn’t until he exited onto the floor and started through the doors that he realized something wasn’t right. The floor was eerily quiet, everyone too focused on their work. His gaze went immediately to his assistant, and she pointed to the conference room, then immediately ducked back into her chair and hid behind her computer.

  Nick’s eyes went to the lit conference room, the men in suits around the table, and all he could see was red.

  The whole place became a betrayal. The staff for not warning him when he walked in, the smell of coffee in the air, as though everything were normal. As though his brothers weren’t meeting there right this second to sell the place. Again without telling him. He wondered how it was possible to feel such anger without spontaneously combusting.