by Cindi Madsen
“Yeah, don’t let me and my impending difficult decision about my entire future keep you from escaping everything.” Wiping at the tears that’d spilled over and run onto her cheeks seemed like accepting defeat, so she let them fall unchecked.
“We both know you’ve already made your decision. I’m not going to sit here and fight with you until things get really ugly.”
This wasn’t really ugly? It felt devastatingly ugly. A couple of people had started out of the Triple S, only to backpedal to give them space. Usually she would’ve ducked her head and backed away, unable to deal with the confrontation, and especially unable to deal with people witnessing it. But she didn’t want to look back and think she should’ve fought harder for Cam.
“I’ll make sure to schedule touring trips around when I have Zoey,” he said, his voice completely monotone, and the missing warmth chilled her to her core. “Divorced people manage to raise kids all the time, so I’m sure we can figure out a way to deal with each other when we have to.”
He started toward the parking lot, and she almost let it go at that. But each beat of her broken heart sent more misery coursing through her, and with it came a burst of anger edged with desperation. Anger at herself that she’d let him in so quickly and that she’d fallen for him so hard, desperation that he was going to walk away and she’d forever feel the emptiness that was spreading through her, taking over the spot where her heart used to be.
“So that’s it?” she asked, following after him. “You’re happy to walk away and just forget about us?”
“What us? Who were we kidding?” He shook his head and strode away, never looking back at her, and she wished she had let it go.
A minute or so later—she wasn’t sure, because time had ceased to register or make sense—Cam’s truck sped past…
Leaving her alone in the parking lot where they’d had one steamy night, and making it clear that all he’d ever see her as was the girl he’d settled for before one of his deployments.
Chapter Twenty-Five
After the scene she and Cam had caused at the Triple S, she’d still had to go back inside to retrieve her purse—it had her keys, and she’d made it all the way to her car before realizing she couldn’t drive away like she desperately needed to.
She’d received a lot of sympathetic glances and questions about whether she was okay. The tear-streaked face had definitely been a dead giveaway, but she’d answered that she was fine, even though she was nowhere near anything resembling that word.
Pete had walked her out, waving off her insistence that he didn’t need to, and he’d told her that he’d finish up everything at Mountain Ridge and check in with Mr. Strickland. As much as she didn’t want to be the girl who couldn’t go to work because of a breakup, she also didn’t want to be the girl who burst into tears while having to work near her ex.
Besides, she’d see the property at the stupid picnic auction at the end of the week that she still had to attend, and she hoped that after four days to recover, she could fake her way through it.
Emma tried to be strong, and for a few days she even kept Zoey home from day care. Her heart remained broken, though, and it broke a little more each time Zoey asked about her daddy.
By the third day, she didn’t feel any better, but she decided to drop Zoey off at day care and force herself to appear like a person who had her life together. No doubt people in town were talking and wondering what was going on, and she figured the sooner she could get her life back to normal, the sooner it might feel that way.
Normal.
Boring.
Lonely.
With all those words swirling through her head, she collapsed on the couch the second she arrived back home and let herself shed the tears she’d held at bay for two days. Well, she’d cried plenty the night she’d returned home from her big fight with Cam, but she’d told herself that she’d only allow herself that one breakdown.
The problem was her heart ached, and she didn’t want to move on and put on a brave face. She wanted to wallow and cry. She didn’t want to have to be strong anymore, and how could she be, when she couldn’t even make a solid decision about her future?
If it were only hers, then it’d be easier. But she had to think about her career, about her responsibilities as a provider, about how moving away from Cam would affect Zoey long-term, and a dozen other things that completely overwhelmed her, especially while nursing a broken heart.
On top of all of that, someday, somehow, she needed to have a conversation with Cam and talk logistics of what their custody agreement would look like if she took the job in Salt Lake City that he’d already been so sure she’d take.
Custody agreements and lawyers and all the things that’d terrified her that first day Cam had opened the door and reentered her life.
A heavy dose of guilt rose up. Over not telling him she was pregnant in the first place, that she was considering moving away right after he’d connected with Zoey, and that he’d had to find out about the job in Salt Lake in the worst way possible.
I tried to explain, though. Tried to get his input so I could make a decision about this huge opportunity and whether or not it was worth leaving Hope Springs.
More than that, she’d fought for him. Something he obviously wasn’t willing to do for her.
As much as that fact hurt, making it clear that he’d been with her mostly out of convenience or obligation—either way, something she wouldn’t settle for, even as her heart screamed it didn’t care, because it wanted Cam anyway—she told herself it was better to know now.
She closed her eyes and reminded herself of the hurt that’d flash across Mom’s face when Dad made it clear he was only with her because of Emma.
No, she wouldn’t settle for that.
It took him all of six weeks to bring up the past and use it against me. I can only imagine how many times it’d come up if we tried to work things out. Her accidental pregnancy and the fact that she’d withheld it would always be between them, ammo used in every fight.
At least he wants Zoey. My main goal has always been to ensure she feels wanted. She’d have two families, basically. More love. It’d be…
Pain radiated through Emma’s chest. She’d find a way to work out the whole coparenting thing for her daughter’s sake. Even if it meant that eventually Cam would move on and find a woman he wanted to be with.
It’ll be some beauty-queen type with no complications, too, who he’ll make so many plans with that it’ll take every ounce of my strength to not try to sabotage them all.
Ugh, why does she get plans and I don’t?
And now she was feeling irrational hatred for someone who didn’t exist. Yet.
The knock on the door made her jerk upright. She froze, hoping and praying whoever it was would believe she wasn’t at home.
“Emma.” The knocking grew louder. “It’s Quinn and Sadie. Please let us in.”
Emma wiped her eyes, knowing that there’d been too much crying for her to pull off a person who had her life together. As much as she hated for anyone to see her like this, she needed her friends more.
Sadie and Quinn took one look at her and then enveloped her in a hug.
They’d heard enough details to get the gist of what happened, and Emma filled in the rest. The tears flowed freely as she rehashed her and Cam’s fight, and she didn’t bother stopping them. “He didn’t want me.”
Quinn shook her head. “That’s not true. I saw it—he cares about you, I know he does. He’s just…ridiculously stubborn. And maybe a bit lost.”
“I bet he’s not sitting at home crying,” Emma said, giving Quinn a look that challenged her to contradict the statement. The tiny part of her that’d been clinging to the shred of hope she couldn’t quite let go of desperately wanted her to contradict it.
“He…left. Took off into the mountains. He’s been up there for three days.”
“I bet he’s up there crying,” Sadie said, patting Emma’s knee, and in spite
of everything, she laughed, even though a sob came on the heels of it.
“I doubt it. The ability to escape into the mountains was what he wanted. I got in the way. Me and Zoey—but at least he doesn’t regret Zoey. He’s willing to give up time in the mountains for her.”
Quinn dug into her bag and brought out a bottle of tequila. “Now, before you say you can’t drink this with us, just…don’t say it. We’ll drown our sorrows for an hour or so, and then you’ll have time to sober up before you go get Zoey. Promise.”
Sadie produced three shot glasses. “Yeah, and I’m leaving in a little over a week, so I need a last hurrah.”
Emma winced at the hard liquor as she tipped it back, not sure how much she could stomach. “If I end up taking the job, this might be my last hurrah here, too—the picnic basket auction certainly won’t be hurrah material. More like shoot me now, with a side of an awkward date.”
Quinn poured everyone another. “For the record, we don’t want you to move. But we also understand following your dreams and doing what’s best for your family and all that jazz. So, while we let the buzz work its way through our systems, why don’t you tell us all about this new job? That way, maybe we can help you decide.”
…
The wind rippled the surface of the lake, sending Cam’s fishing line drifting farther toward the center and causing him to tighten his jacket and hike his shoulders up against the cold. The late spring storms had brought a heavy dose of rain, and while that usually meant better fishing conditions, he’d caught all of one fish in three days.
If Emma and I were having a contest this trip… His heart snagged. Well, I’d lose.
It definitely felt like he’d lost—something way more than a contest, too. This sense of failure went much deeper, down to where it took root and grew stronger every passing day.
After their fight, he’d realized he’d let his temper get the best of him again. Instead of facing up to it, he’d packed his gear, thinking once he headed into the mountains, he wouldn’t feel so lost. That he could clear his mind and figure out his next step.
Even though he’d taken an obscure trail he’d only been on a few times in high school and hiked to a different lake than the one he’d been to with Emma, every damn thing reminded him of her. In an epically stupid move, he’d brought as much alcohol with him as he could carry, and he’d already burned through most of the beer and a bottle of vodka. He’d thought it’d make the long nights better, but in truth, all it did was make him feel just like his dad.
Not even the new-and-improved version who stubbornly refused medical treatment—the past, horrible version that had nothing going for him.
Which had only made Cam want to drink more. He’d thought of a hundred different things he should’ve said to Emma. Like, don’t take the job. I want you to stay.
I want you.
I think I’m in love with you, and it scares the shit out of me.
Instead he’d yelled. Turned it all on her and then walked away, undeterred by the catch in her voice and the tears running down her face.
What scared him—and what he couldn’t stop thinking about, though—was that he’d wanted to hit something so badly. That Pete guy would’ve been nice. Trevor the Prick, who’d compared him to Dad… Forget that he’d been acting like him that night, as well as ever since.
Emma’s touch had cooled his temper just enough, but not enough to prevent him from ripping into her when they stepped outside.
As he’d driven away, his anger quickly morphing into self-loathing, he’d thought that the best thing for her, as well as for Zoey, was to get away from him.
He told himself the same thing now. They’re better off without me. They can go live their lives in the big city, and I can finally live mine the way I’d planned, without all these complications mucking it up.
A form of panic he’d never felt before seized him as the reality of what his life would be like without his girls sank in. A lot of emptiness and regret. No more teasing back and forth with Emma, no more having Zoey run into his arms as she yelled, “Daddy!”
He pressed a hand over his tightening chest. It felt like someone had punched a hole through him and taken everything that mattered. He’d never survive complete ostracism from his girls, and not seeing Zoey wasn’t an option.
Conjuring his daughter’s image made his heart fill to the brink with the love he had for her. He hated the thought of her being too far away for drop-bys, of all the milestones and little moments in her life he’d miss, but he refused to subject her to the way he’d been raised. With the lodge’s future so iffy, Emma was probably better off with a stable job in Utah.
Only seeing Zoey on weekends here and there is going to be torture.
It’d also be torturous to see Emma, because he knew he’d always want more, just like he knew she deserved a better guy. One who wouldn’t snap, one who had his life together. So for the sake of everyone involved, he’d do his damnedest to figure out how to be good at coparenting. And during the times he had Zoey, he’d cut his work hours as much as he could and make every second they had together count.
A lump formed in his throat, and even though he’d just mentally worked through all of his revelations and resolutions for the future, that damned hollow hole remained in his chest.
Since he’d reached the sappy portion of the day, he reeled in his pole, looked at the gray sky that threatened even more rain, and crawled into his tent.
Tomorrow was the big town picnic auction at Mountain Ridge.
Which meant he needed to stay in the mountains for a few more days.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Emma placed her picnic basket on the table behind the number Patsy Higgins had assigned to her. She twisted it so that the prettier side showed, momentarily disregarding the fact that she was fairly against this whole bid-on-a-woman’s-baking-skills thing. Since Zoey had helped her pick it out late last night, when her procrastination had reached the critical, out-of-time stage, it was pink. In a sea of standard white and brown baskets and a lot of red-checked material, the color and tulle lining definitely stood out—it looked like several ballerinas had lost their clothes to make it possible.
Her already frazzled nerves frayed more as she glanced out at the line of chairs taking shape in front of the podium that’d been brought in. On top of not wanting to basically be an item for bid, Emma was also sure there wouldn’t be a whole lot of interest in her basket, and then she’d get to experience humiliation on top of everything else, which her self-esteem could hardly handle right now.
It’s for a good cause, it’s for a good cause. Despite her best attempts to stop them, her eyes searched the faces of the people who were scurrying about the property, hoping to find one in particular. It made no sense after their ugly confrontation, but she’d had some time to think, and while Cam shouldn’t have jumped all over her like that, she imagined finding out about her job offer the way he did would’ve made anyone lose their temper.
He still should’ve let her explain. Even if he didn’t want her, they had a child together, and that meant talking out big decisions, whether he liked it or not.
That’s why I’m looking for him. So we can have the big talk. Not because I miss his face and his voice, and the way he made me feel more adventurous and fun…sexier…
Her brain choosing to focus on all the things she missed about him when he clearly didn’t want her the way she wanted him was a new form of torture.
Stop it, brain. We need to focus on the here and now. Get through setting up for the event, go on a date with—if she had any luck—a nice guy who would understand this was all a coerced, archaic ritual that in no way would equal a real date, and then go home and sign the contract so she didn’t throw away an amazing opportunity for nothing.
While she still felt she owed it to Cam to have a conversation about the job before she signed the papers, she also felt that if she waited much longer, Pete might take offense and withdraw it. Cam was the one
who’d decided to flee and hide instead of deal, which wasn’t an option for her, even though she could certainly understand the allure.
She understood it even more as Patsy Higgins strode toward her, arms swinging in that way they did when she was on a mission.
Luckily she strode past her, another target in her sights. Emma noticed Quinn in the middle of the melee and headed over to her. The property looked amazing, every cabin complete, the landscaping flawlessly done with a lot of touches of bright flowers. Since Emma hadn’t been able to do everything she’d wanted to help with during her few days off, she’d shown up extra early this morning.
As soon as she reached Quinn, she said, “Put me to work.”
They set up a couple more rows of chairs, and Emma mentioned how impressed she was by the property.
Quinn held her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and fanned her face and neck. “Thanks. Hopefully the state of the property will make up for the fact that my basket looks completely pathetic.”
“You’re lucky that you’ve got a sure bet bidding on you,” Emma said.
Quinn dropped her hold on her hair, frowned at a chair, and wiggled it an entire centimeter to the right. “Yeah. Although Heath made a joke about how this might be his last chance to eat another woman’s cooking, so I made a joke about how he could cook his own meals from now on, and I think we’ve reached a compromise.”
“The compromise being that he’s bidding on your basket?”
“You guessed it.”
Emma laughed. Quinn’s version of compromise was different than the actual definition. What it usually meant was that she tried to sway Heath to her side, and when she couldn’t—like when it came to decisions on decorations or furnishings for the cabins—she ordered what she wanted anyway and told him he could choose all the camping gear and vehicles. Emma loved how easily Heath always went along with it.