“No, Rogan. He can’t. But he’s making progress. He’s a very hard worker. Completely committed to learning.”
“Oh, so now you’re a teacher?” Rogan threw his hands up in the air, clearly exasperated. “When will the wonders cease? Ms. Freedom Peterson truly can rule the world, is that it?”
Reed remained silent, refusing to feed into his flame of anger and blame.
He stepped forward, grabbing her upper arms in his giant hands. She couldn’t deny that she wanted him to touch her. But not like that. He didn’t hurt her—she fully trusted that he never would. Not physically.
“Is that it, Reed? You think you’re so much smarter than me? That parenting is so easy that you can just step up to the plate and do it?”
She stared into his eyes. He was questioning his parenting skills—not her integrity. She could see the insecurity in his eyes. The same insecurity he had displayed the night of the fireworks when Dylan had accused him of not caring about the family.
“No. Of course not. I was just trying to help.”
“You can help by butting out of my kid’s life and letting me be the parent.”
Though his words cut deep, she managed to nod.
He couldn’t know how much he hurt her.
She hadn’t wanted to have kids of her own, but working with Dylan, watching Rogan with his kids, seeing the pride of accomplishment in Dylan’s face when he discovered a strategy that worked—all of those things made her long to be in their lives. Had made her feel like she could be a nurturer. That she had the maternal instinct after all.
Clearly she had been delusional.
He peered into her car window, and rage made his face an even brighter shade of red.
“You’re going somewhere? Somewhere you needed to pack a bag for?”
She opened her mouth to answer him, but he cut her off.
“Did you even think of telling me you were going somewhere? Did it even occur to you that I might worry?”
Her inner free-spirit rebelled at the thought of him stealing her freedom from her. She clenched her jaw. She didn’t owe him an explanation.
“After our last conversation, I didn’t think you really cared.”
“Bullshit.” He paced the area, kicking a rock out of his path. “You know how much it hurt me when my wife cheated on me. But Jesus, you have no idea how the thought of you being with someone else fucks me up. Is that what’s going on? We got in a fight so you’re going off with someone else?”
“Rogan, don’t be ridiculous.”
“You think I’m being ridiculous.” He laughed. “You know, at least when my wife fucked around, I wasn’t in love with her anymore.”
What did love have to do with anything? Was he saying he loved Reed?
He glared at her as if love was the last thing he’d ever consider feeling for her.
Rogan dropped his hands, pausing before he started pulling on his ear.
“I don’t need this bullshit.” He turned to leave.
“Rogan, wait a second.”
“You know what? It was bad enough that I didn’t know that you were forming this relationship with my son. That he was getting so close to you. That you knew things about him that I didn’t have a fucking clue about. I would have liked that he was spending that time with you, you know. But that was before he informed me that you care about him more than I do.” Rogan stormed toward his car, then turned around and speed-walked back toward her, stopping feet away. “He’s my kid. I deserve to know.”
Rogan’s voice cracked on that last part of his speech, effectively slicing Reed’s heart into multiple, bleeding sections.
He tore out of the driveway, and that’s when she finally allowed the tears to flow.
Simplicity called out to her from the porch. She must have witnessed the entire humiliating experience.
Reed shook her head, held a hand up to stop Simplicity from approaching, got into her car, and sped out of that town like the Devil was chasing her away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Reed was shocked by how ferociously she wanted to be back in Healing Springs. Walking around her old neighborhood had been comfortable at first, but she soon noticed how tense and rigid her muscles had become. How shallow her breathing had become with every step.
She hadn’t realized until she was halfway home on Route 93 that she had left her once-constant headache in the big city.
How had she not realized that so many days and weeks had passed without having to reach for her migraine medication?
Perhaps the new life suited her after all.
Too bad it was time to give it up.
She could still feel Rogan’s rage in every cell of her body. This fight was different from their other ones. He was hurt. Betrayed. Incredibly angry.
She was no good for him.
Or for his kids.
She had screwed up by not telling him about helping Dylan.
She had screwed up by allowing him to think she was relationship material.
She had screwed up by mixing business with her personal life.
He was a damn good contractor. His work ethic was unprecedented. His craftsmanship was undeniably wonderful.
The man had a way with his hands. In every way.
She knew she cared for him more than she deserved to. More than she should have allowed herself to.
And now she had to put an end to their torment.
She knew their relationship was over. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if he never stepped foot on her property again.
Who could blame him?
She wasn’t built for relationships.
He needed someone who would be content to sit back while he ran the show. Who could bring some sort of domesticity to the table. Someone who didn’t need to feel free—someone who would flourish under his protectiveness and possessiveness.
Someone unlike her.
This was his town. Time for her to move on.
Reed cranked the radio to drown out the sound of her sobbing.
She had believed in this vision of her new life. Had been fully invested. Had put her entire future on the line.
She was an idiot.
She couldn’t afford the rest of the work.
How could she have been so stupid? So hasty? So not smart?
She couldn’t afford the project emotionally and she certainly couldn’t afford it financially.
Her safe financial bubble had burst along with the pipes, and since she had heard from the plumber that the pipes to the cottages needed upgrading, she knew it was time to call it a loss.
She had enough money to secure a decent apartment somewhere, as long as she could find contentment with second hand furniture.
Maybe she could find another little town like this one to settle down in.
Maybe she could start a small business of her own. One that wouldn’t require any sort of investment.
She could be a consultant.
Or she could move to the suburbs and get back to doing what she did best.
Hell, she knew she could get her old job back in a heartbeat.
She sobbed louder. Guttural, deep, from-the-toes-up sobs.
She had never let emotions out in this way.
She had never felt this much pain.
She had never been such a failure.
Reed pulled off the highway and parked in a scenic overlook lot. She could barely see the beautiful mountains through the blur of her tears.
She watched the sun set in her rearview mirror. She couldn’t find the strength to turn her ignition back on and continue the journey back to the place she had started to think of as home.
As the shadows grew in front of her car, she swore she could see her mother dancing in the field of black-eyed Susans. Her ethereal gaze drifted over Reed, gifting her with the kind of comfort one expected from a mother.
Reed didn’t dare to blink, certain the image would fade if she did.
Her mother continued to dance, nodding her head
to a song only she could hear.
You’re on the right path. Love will lead you home.
Reed heard her mother’s voice as clearly as if she had whispered the words into Reed’s ear.
Reed opened the door, convinced her mother was truly there. There had been an error. She was alive. Breathing. Dancing. Advising.
The image faded as soon as Reed’s feet hit the pavement.
Reed slumped against the car, her heart heavier than ever.
Too emotionally fatigued to feel anything else, Reed allowed the wind to carry her back to Healing Springs. She’d dig deep into her energy reserve to do what needed to be done, and then she’d be on her way. Eventually she’d find suitable soil for planting her roots.
***
“Sweetie, where have you been?” Miss Molly chastised Reed when she entered the shop.
Reed wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. She couldn’t even explain why she had felt the need to come to town, never mind the crazy urge to visit Miss Molly’s shop.
“I was so worried.” Miss Molly scurried around the counter.
Reed smiled at Miss Molly’s eye-patch-of-the-day—a clock-face with the arms of time bent into lightning bolts. Purple sequins outlined the circular patch.
“No need to be worried. I only left for a couple of days.”
“Yes, but I wondered if you’d be back in time for the inspection.” Miss Molly tsked.
“The inspection is tomorrow. Of course I’d be here for that.” Not that the outcome mattered anymore.
Reed had come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t pass the inspection. There was no way. Not with the latest problems and her lack of money.
The town would get the land. She’d leave without her pride.
“Why do you look so down, honey?” Miss Molly reached out to pat Reed’s arm.
Reed didn’t pull away.
“I’ve done some thinking.”
“Ah yes. Thinking can indeed hurt sometimes,” Miss Molly joked. “I don’t see any blood leaking from your ears, so I think you’re all right for now. I wouldn’t push it, though.”
Reed sighed.
“Thank you for being so welcoming to an outsider with big ideas. You have no idea how much your kindness has meant to me.”
“Oh, now, you hush, girl. Don’t go sounding like you’re about to say goodbye.”
Reed smiled, though she knew her eyes told a different tale.
“Freedom Peterson. You go back to your new home, put on those fancy high-heeled shoes of yours, and get ready to kick some booty. This town needs a little shaking up. Now I don’t pretend to know everything, except when I do, but I think you’re on the verge of making a big mistake. Now off with you. Get that place ready so we can secure our business arrangement. I’m ready for some joint marketing, young lady.”
Reed wasn’t much of a hugger, but she felt the urge to embrace the short old lady. She refrained, but to her own emotional detriment.
She drove extra slow in an effort to absorb all of the goodness Healing Springs offered. She detoured to the site of her first criminal experience. The guards waved her forward, and she parked her car so she could get out and breathe in the clean air.
Aside from the veteran guards Rogan had told her about, she was one of only a handful of visitors. She smiled at a young mother as she attempted to wrangle her twin toddlers back to the picnic blanket to finish their sandwiches. She faked a laugh when an unleashed dog came sniffing where no one should sniff without buying her dinner first. She nearly cried out loud when she witnessed the beauty of the Springs in the bright sunshine.
All she could see was Rogan. He wasn’t there, of course, but she could see herself cocooned in his arms in the freezing cold water.
She shook her head to clear it of the semi-unwanted image, then rushed to her car without making eye contact with anyone she passed. She muttered something of a greeting when the guards wished her a good day, but kept her eyes shielded.
A new life could be good. She had tried this one on—it didn’t fit. There was no shame in that.
She pulled into her driveway a few minutes later. Vehicles lined the side of her parking area. Cars, trucks, construction vehicles of various sizes.
Rogan’s car was in the front.
She glanced at her phone to see if she had received any messages indicating that a crisis had arisen.
Nothing.
All around, sounds of power tools punctuated the air, replacing the usual bird songs.
She could practically see her money blowing in the wind. No way would she be able to pay these people.
Good thing she liked her car. Living in it might be her only option. Too bad it was a tiny hybrid…
What the hell was she doing? She was a freaking CEO for crying out loud. Even better, she was the owner of this establishment, and any work had to be authorized by her.
Straightening her shoulders, she smoothed her hair and stormed ahead. She’d stop the action and preserve the last remaining bits of her bank account and her dignity.
“There you are!” Simplicity ran forward, nearly tripping on her long patchwork skirt. “I hope you don’t smell like another man, because I’ve been doing my best to reassure Rogan that you were having alone time and nothing more. Not straight up like that—more subtle, I promise.”
“Why would you be telling Rogan anything?” Reed fumed.
“He was here looking for you. He brought flowers. And candy, though I might have eaten some of that… Oh, and a high tech kind of coffee machine. I think he was remorseful about that little tiff you guys had the night you left. Anyway, he looked so heartbroken, I just had to tell him something. And when he found out about the water trouble, he got right on his phone and started making calls. I have to tell you, seeing such a laid-back guy going all take-charge was pretty potent. You’re lucky you made it back when you did, because if I had to see him shirtless one more time…”
Simplicity paused to bite her knuckles.
Reed narrowed her eyes at her babbling sister.
Not that she could blame her—a shirtless Rogan was not something to be trifled with. It should be illegal for that man to take his shirt off with poor, unsuspecting women around.
“Wait, did you say he ordered all of this to be done?”
Simplicity nodded emphatically.
“And he brought a coffee machine?”
Simplicity nodded again, her smile broadening. “And the other stuff, too.”
“Shit.”
“Wrong reaction!” Simplicity sang. “He’s patching up a wall in the big cottage at the moment.”
Simplicity spun, allowing her skirt to twirl around her as she sang, “Love is in the air…”
“I hate you, Simplicity.”
“Love, love, love—it’s in the air!” Her voice trilled over the commotion of the construction as she skipped off to the side of the house.
Grumbling, Reed paused for the slightest moment before hunting down Rogan. She didn’t want to see him. She wasn’t sure she could handle it. She had hoped to come in, pack up her meager belongings, settle some business with the town (in hopes of avoiding court fees), and drive off into the distance. After his verbal attack, she had been certain she’d never see him again.
But he was there.
She knew he needed to work. He had kids to provide for. That’s why he was there—but still.
He was there.
Nothing good in life had ever come from being frozen by self-doubt and indecision, so she slammed her proverbial corporate hat on her head and shifted into functionally-emotional gear.
Rogan was indeed in the big cottage. His bronze skin glistened with sweat, and she had the irresistible urge to trace swirls on his back.
She mentally slapped herself. What the hell was wrong with her?
She cleared her throat. He turned around.
She caught the look of surprise on his face, then something that looked like pleasure, then something that she’d have said l
ooked like nervousness if she didn’t know him better.
Who was she kidding? She didn’t know him at all.
All she knew was how well he fit inside her. How he could bring her to orgasm with the perfect touch. How he could make her mind completely devoid of any thoughts other than him.
“You have to call all of this off.”
He tossed down whatever he had been holding—she could see nothing but his intense eyes as he stepped toward her.
“Can’t.”
“I don’t have a choice, Rogan.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. Shame flooded her insides, threatening to spill over into uncontrollable sadness. “I can’t pay.”
“I took care of it.”
Her eyes shot up.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I took care of it.”
“Rogan, no.”
“It was strictly business. You need to get this place open so you can finish paying me. I know you’re good for it.”
“You don’t have the money for this.”
“Now you’re my financial advisor?” His eyebrow practically hit the ceiling. “You’re not the only one with savings. And you may be exceptionally talented in the business world, but you kind of suck with money.”
“That’s not a fair assessment.” He wasn’t entirely wrong—she hadn’t had to live on a shoe string budget in her adult life. And she had been in charge of the big picture business decisions in her former career—not the operating budget.
He stepped closer.
“I know what I see.”
She gulped.
“What do you see?” Her breath caught in her throat. Fool.
She thought he was about to reach out to her. To touch her. She thought he would make her forget how ill suited they were for one another. She thought he’d pull her into his embrace and dance to an imaginary love song that only the two of them could hear.
But he didn’t dance.
And they weren’t in love.
He turned away and went back to work.
“It’s done, Rogan. I’m calling it off.”
A Heart to Call Home Page 20