Before the Leap: An Inspirational Western Romance (Gold Valley Romance Book 1)

by Liz Isaacson

  Her eyes seemed wild; they searched his with abandon. “I…it was nice driving that one time. I thought about you.” Her chin shook. “I got my house for you. To show you I was as committed to us as you were.”

  “I didn’t ask you to do any of that.”

  “When are you gonna get it, Jace? What else do I need to do before you’ll take a leap of faith?”

  “That has nothing to do with you. It never has.” His throat felt tight, his chest downright clenched. “It’s about me. And you promised me you’d give me the time I needed. You promised me that.”

  “I am!” She threw up her hands in frustration. “So what if I move while I’m waiting? So what if I liked driving home that one time? So what if I tried a new recipe?”

  “I don’t want you…I want you to be you, Belle. The Belle you are. I’m trying to fix myself.” He ground the lump from his throat, but it caught and changed into a full-blown clog. When he spoke next, his voice sounded like he’d gargled with glass. “I’m trying to figure out if I can be happy with you, if I can fall in love with you. But I don’t want it to be a warped version of you—the version you think I want.”

  She shook her head, a tear splashing down her cheek. “I’m not doing that.”

  “There is no mold,” he continued. “I don’t need you to try to fit yourself into my life. Either you will or you won’t.”

  Her green eyes blazed as she wiped them. “Are you trying to push me away?”

  “Of course not.” His fists ached, his heart throbbed. “I—”

  “I have to go.” She tossed a brown paper sack in the chair across from his desk. “There’s your lunch.” She marched out, her back straight and her feet making angry clicking noises as she hurried away.

  Jace sank back into his chair, the fight in him fleeing with Belle. He hated the sight of her back, hated watching her walk out on him. At least he’d had that luxury this time—Wendy hadn’t even given him that.

  Everything inside his body hurt, pulled wrong, twisted against itself. He swiped his hand across the carefully laid out paperwork, ruining the entire morning’s worth of work. He didn’t care. He needed to get away, find somewhere to think, talk to someone who could help.

  Surprisingly, his first thought landed on his mother. Without second-guessing himself, he dialed her as he left the lodge through the backdoor so he wouldn’t have to accidentally see Belle.

  Belle held her head high as she left the lodge and scampered to her car. Thankfully, most of the cowhands weren’t lounging around now that the weather had warmed and there was work to do out on the ranch.

  She kept her emotion contained behind an iron wall while she made it down the newly fixed road. As soon as she turned onto the highway, though, with Horseshoe Home firmly in her rearview mirror, a flood of tears pressed against her will. She let them fall. Let his cold tone and harsh words ripple through her again, each time becoming stronger and stronger until they pulsed like a flag in a stiff wind.

  She pulled into her driveway and all the way into the garage, pressed the button to lower the door, and waited to get out of her car until she was truly alone. She didn’t have overly nosy neighbors, but she rarely came home in the middle of the day as it was, and she didn’t need to start a wave of gossip about her heart being broken.

  But that was exactly how she felt—like Jace had said carefully rehearsed words, words he somehow knew would wound her the most, cut her deepest, break her the hardest.

  She moved numbly through her house, setting a pot of water to boil for pasta. When she’d lost everything in Sacramento, she’d existed solely on spaghetti and meatballs and homemade macaroni and cheese for two weeks. Something about noodles soothed her when every nerve ending felt frayed, frantic, frenzied.

  After changing into her pajamas—yes, in the middle of the day—she padded into the kitchen in her socks and collapsed on the barstool she’d painted a mustard yellow to match the new curtains she’d sewn a month ago. The water seemed to take at least an hour to boil, each minute while she waited amplified by ten.

  She hated waiting. Was tired of it. She’d met Jace five months ago, and while they’d both thought about marriage, no declarations of love had been uttered, no plans for the future discussed, no conversations about what they each wanted from life had even happened.

  “You knew he needed time,” she admonished herself as the boil started bumping against the lid. She heaved herself from the stool and dumped in a box of penne. Stirring, her emotions bubbled like the water, steamed like the vapor, reached their breaking point. Her stomach swooped and her throat tightened as a fresh wave of tears unleashed themselves.

  Evening found her in her office, her face washed free of all makeup and the pot of carbonara she’d made for lunch completely empty. She’d scrubbed the walls and primed them and painted them her favorite shade of blue. A light cornflower, it reminded her of the sky over California. She’d ordered a professional desk and a gorgeous rug to be delivered the following week, and now she swept white paint on the baseboards to complete the mini-makeover.

  Staying busy was the only way she could keep her mind from stalling on Jace, so she didn’t give herself even a moment of downtime. By Sunday morning, she’d slept barely four hours each night, but her windows all had new treatments, and her couch and loveseat had a dozen new throw pillows, and she’d sketched out a business plan that couldn’t fail.

  Well, at least she hoped it couldn’t fail, and as she didn’t have a whole lot to hope for, she seized on that.

  She arrived late to church on purpose and squeezed herself onto the end of a bench where a family of six sat. No room for Jace. She hadn’t called or texted, though she’d thought about it in the soft moments before she fully woke. He hadn’t made contact either, and she often wondered if he’d been as tormented as she’d been over the past three days.

  She had to believe he was. She hoped he was, prayed for it. But she didn’t want to be the one to go crawling back. He’d been the one to express frustration with what she’d done. He could come to her.

  But not at church, she’d made sure of that.

  By the following Sunday, the ache of missing Jace clawed so deep, Belle couldn’t touch the bottom of it. She didn’t need to go out to the ranch to finish the reno on the barns. Her crew did just fine without her in their business. The account had been paid. She never needed to darken the roadway of Horseshoe Home Ranch again.

  Every fiber of her being wanted to, though, and keeping herself from making the drive to see Jace had taken every ounce of her willpower. He’d texted a couple of times, once about her keeping the extra money for Tom’s cabin and once asking her to please call him.

  She hadn’t. Couldn’t seem to find the right words to say to him, though she’d never had a problem telling him what she thought before.

  She stayed home from church so she could finish her office. She’d toyed with the idea of quitting the conglomerate outright, but hadn’t yet found the courage to do it. Maybe this week, she thought as she adjusted the wingback chair she’d bought about two inches to the right. She immediately moved it back and stepped away from it.

  An hour later, someone knocked on her front door. Probably one of the neighbors who’d noticed she hadn’t gone to church. Maybe they had freshly baked bread or a plate of chocolate chip cookies. What she wouldn’t give for something homebaked right now.

  She opened the door and stumbled backward at the sight of Jace standing on her front porch.

  17

  “You didn’t call,” he said, his expression tortured.

  “You look tired, Jace.” She gripped the door to hold herself upright. Her heart raced like it was a contestant in the Kentucky Derby. “You should go on home.”

  He crossed his arms and stared directly at her. “Didn’t see you at church today. I was worried.”

  “I’m fine, as you can see.”

  “I can see that.” He stepped across the threshold of her house, pressing into her spa
ce.

  She didn’t give him an inch. “I didn’t invite you in.”

  “You opened the door.”

  “Jace—”

  “I’m sorry, Belle, okay?” He dragged his pinky along her fingers but didn’t hook it, didn’t hold her hand. “I’m dying without you.”

  “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you lectured me.”

  He ducked his head, and they stood close enough to embrace, to kiss. His breath wafted across her bare shoulder, but she didn’t move. “I didn’t mean to lecture you.” He spoke with the gentleness of falling snow, and she wanted to lean into him, forgive him.

  “I’m—I was just scared you were doin’ things for the wrong reasons.” His hands landed lightly on her waist, tiptoed around to her back. “Forgive me. I’m begging you. Please forgive me.”

  Jace didn’t know how to live without Belle. The past several days had felt like he was living underwater without an oxygen tank. She let him collect her into his arms, but she remained stiff and unyielding. She hadn’t thrown him out, and he figured the more time he spent with her the quicker she’d come around.

  He sensed her reluctance though, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. Not that he’d expected her to throw herself into his arms, but well, he had hoped she would.

  “I’ve been talking to my mother.” He rocked Belle left and right slightly. “She’s been helping me understand some things.”

  “What sort of things?” She softened into him the slightest bit, and he kneaded her closer. He told himself not to kiss her, but his mouth touched her neck for a breath. “Jace, focus.”

  Humbled, he stepped away from her, because he couldn’t think with the glorious, floral scent of her skin clouding his mind.

  He cleared his throat. “She’s helping me understand that it wasn’t my fault she left.”

  Belle frowned at him, pressed further into the wall behind her, and crossed her arms. “I thought you already knew that.”

  “Knowing it and believin’ it are two different things.” He moved further into her house, disliking the conversation though he’d known what he was up against, had known she’d push him for answers. In fact, it was one of the things he liked best about her.

  “You know I was just trying to make things work between us.” She shuffled her feet. “Because I like you, and I felt myself falling in love with you, and I’m sorry that came across as me not being authentic.”

  The first part of her statement sent his heart palpitating, but the last part smothered his lungs in wet towels. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  She glared in response. Cocked a hip. Lifted her eyebrows.

  “Have you ever considered that what makes us great is that not everything works? That you can still be you and have your opinions, and so can I? That we can disagree and still like each other?” He watched her carefully so he could judge her reaction. She barely moved. “Belle, I like you too. I might even love you. But I also love that I can tease you, and shoot my best insult at you, and use sarcasm with you.”

  Her shoulders finally fell. “You might be onto something there.”

  He swept her into his arms, lifting her feet off the ground as he brought her mouth level with his. “Of course I am, sunshine.” He touched his lips to hers, asking for her permission. She gave it, and he held her tighter and kissed her longer than he ever had.

  “Mom, I’m running about ten minutes late.” Jace dictated the text to his mother and hit send before tossing his phone back to the seat. Yesterday, he’d had a hard time leaving Belle once she’d forgiven him. And today, he’d driven straight to her house as soon as the ranch could release him. She had a comfortable couch, and since he hadn’t been sleeping well, he’d fallen asleep in her arms. When he’d woken, he’d realized he didn’t want to wake up anywhere else ever again.

  The thought both terrified him and excited him. He ran his hand through his hair and resettled his hat on his head just as he pulled into the parking lot where he and his mother had decided to meet for dinner. She claimed O’Reilly’s had the best chicken tacos in the country, and well, Jace liked a good taco as much as the next cowboy.

  “Hey, Ma.” He met her inside the front door and gave her a quick squeeze. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “I hope it’s because you went to see Belle like you promised.”

  A smile sprang to his face. “I did.”

  Shock traveled across his mother’s features, staying the longest in her hazel eyes.

  “You didn’t think I’d actually go see her.” Jace folded his arms and scanned the Mexican joint so he wouldn’t have to see his mom’s face.

  “I hoped,” she said. “But sometimes you Lovell boys are awfully stubborn.”

  “Wonder where we get that from,” Jace muttered. “These tacos have potatoes in them?”

  “Don’t change the subject. Tell me how things went with Belle.”

  They joined the line, which seemed to be moving forward at a decent clip. “All settled with Belle.”

  “That’s what I get? Four words? I’ve never eaten out so much in my life as I have this past week. I’ve never seen a man so overwrought. And I get ‘all settled with Belle’?” She made her voice deeper to mimic him on the last four words. “No way, mister. Tell me more.”

  Jace sighed and rolled his eyes, but secretly he wanted to tell her. He needed to. Talking with his mom these past several days had helped Jace in a way nothing else had. “You were right. She wasn’t trying to be someone she’s not. I can see that now.”

  “She said that?”

  “A version of it.”

  “And what did you say?”

  Jace stepped up to the counter and ordered the “famous” chicken taco platter for him and his mother. As they moved down to pay, he filled her in on the conversation and the general feeling he’d gotten from Belle.

  “So now what?” his mother asked as she sat at a table for two in the corner. She passed out the tacos but didn’t taste hers.

  “What do you mean, now what?” Jace bit into his taco and moaned. “Wow, this really is the best chicken taco in the country.” The saltiness of the potatoes and the spiciness of the taco created a little piece of heaven in his mouth.

  “Come on, Jace. What are you going to do now?”

  Jace took another bite and swallowed before he answered. “I don’t know, Mom. I like her a lot.”

  “You don’t love her?”

  Jace ducked his head lower and finished off his taco. “I don’t know how to do that, Mom.”

  “How to love someone?”

  Jace gestured to the air. “Maybe, yeah.”

  “Yes, you do. You have a great capacity to love. What about Tom? Your dad? Your cowhands?”

  “They’re not women who walked out on me on my wedding day.” The taco waged war against Jace’s insides. “You realize that in eleven days, I could’ve been celebrating my one-year anniversary.” He exhaled heavily and picked up another taco. “I don’t know if I can…I don’t trust myself to make the right choice. I don’t know how I feel, and I don’t know how to recognize real love.”

  After all, if he and Wendy had really been so happily in love, wouldn’t he have detected at least an inkling of her unhappiness? Wouldn’t he have suspected something? But he hadn’t. Her departure to sell luxury condos in LA had blindsided him in the worst possible way.

  “Look, Jace, I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told very many people. Only one person in fact—your father.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and took a long drag from her soda. Jace paused in his eating to watch her, because he hadn’t seen his mother look so nervous before.

  “After I left, I wanted to come back almost immediately. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to explain. And so I stayed away. I thought it would be better for everyone that way. I was wrong, and I know it now. Maybe Wendy feels the same way.”

  Jace growled. “I’m not interested in getting back together with Wendy. Ever
.”

  “I didn’t say you should be.” She sighed and leaned forward. “What I mean is we’re all human. We all make mistakes. Some are bigger than others. Some hurt other people along the way, whether we want them to or not.”

  Jace waited for her to get to the point, because he still couldn’t see it. When she didn’t continue, he said, “What’s your point, Ma?”

  “My point is she did something because she didn’t know how she felt. And now you’re not doing something because you don’t know how you feel. But I think you do.” She gazed at him steadily, the way Tom did when he had something important to say. Jace wouldn’t tell Tom that, though. He still hadn’t quite forgiven their mom for leaving.

  “I really don’t, Mom.”

  “You’re just scared. You need to get past that, be honest with yourself, and then you’ll know.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Jace?”

  Jace glanced up at the woman who had said his name. Long seconds passed as he took in the blonde hair—now cut stylishly into a bob—and the blue eyes. The petite frame, the thin lips.

  Wendy. Her name formed in his head, but he couldn’t say it out loud. He glanced back at his mother, pushed away from the table, and walked out of the restaurant.

  Belle sat up in bed, the device she’d been reading on falling to the pillow next to her. She’d fallen asleep reading—again.

  Something had woken her, and she glanced around, trying to determine the time. Only nine o’clock. Pathetic. Still, she hadn’t been sleeping well. The loud knocking came again, and she flew from bed and toward the front door. She checked through the peephole this time, and sure enough, Jace stood on her porch.

  She opened the door. “Jace, are you okay?” He’d just left here three hours ago to meet his mom for dinner.

  “Marry me,” he said.