by Kim Law
“People get second chances, Harper. And I don’t believe for a second that you don’t want kids. You have a room you’d intended to be a nursery. You’re amazing with children. Jenna fell in love with you on the spot.”
Her eyes opened and she stared at his chest. But even more telling, she pulled her hand from his. “I did want children. Once. But that part of me died with Thomas.”
Fear bloomed inside him. Damn.
He shouldn’t have said anything. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.
“It’s not something to be answered today.” His words sounded weak. And it pissed him off. But he couldn’t simply give up. “We can stay as we are for now. But I just wanted you to know that things have shifted for me. I see a future for us. It’s only fair that you know that.”
Her eyes finally came back to his. “Then in good conscience, I can’t let this go any further. Because I’m not going to change. That isn’t what I want.”
And he finally got it. He wasn’t what she wanted.
He wasn’t enough.
He had never been more than a good time for her.
Pain sliced deep. How could he have been so mistaken? But he could see the conviction in her face. She didn’t want him. Not the way he wanted her. He should have known. Hadn’t his mother taught him that he couldn’t make someone love him?
Without another word, he nodded. He stood from her bed and began dressing. When she remained silent, the hurt only intensified. There would be no second-guessing her decision.
As he yanked on his boots, she finally moved, standing from the bed and disappearing into her closet. She came out wearing a robe, and he put up a hand.
“Don’t bother. I can see myself out.” When he got to the bedroom door, he paused but didn’t let himself look back. She said nothing, nor did he hear movement. “Good luck with your life, Harper. It’s been nice.”
Silence was the only thing that followed him out of the room.
At the sound of the front door closing, Harper remained where she was. Shock coursed through her, but mostly she felt nothing. Why had Nick said all that? Why had he even felt it? He wasn’t supposed to want more.
His truck started up outside, and she pictured him driving away. She’d hurt him. But she hadn’t meant to.
But what else could she have done? She couldn’t let him go on thinking this could be something. She’d done the right thing.
The silence in the house suddenly seemed to ring loud in her ears, and she began wandering through the downstairs rooms. She hated the white so much. It taunted her tonight. Pointing out how ridiculous she’d been to change everything. The taunting was so bad that she found herself heading upstairs to get away from it. Maybe she’d watch a movie.
Only, she ended up outside of Thomas’s room.
She put a hand to the door, then leaned into it and closed her eyes. Resting her forehead against the cool wood, anger began to build. How could Nick ask for more? Had he listened to nothing she’d told him all this time? She’d killed her own husband.
She couldn’t go on from that. People didn’t get second chances after that.
And then she’d let her baby die.
She shook her head back and forth against the door, denying all the words that had come out of Nick’s mouth. He didn’t see them going anywhere. They weren’t anything. Just sex. Just passing the time. She couldn’t have more. Because she was the one who should have died.
She stopped shaking her head, her chest now rising with each breath, and put both hands flat on the door. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. She and Thomas were supposed to be a team.
Turning, she slid to the floor and closed her eyes.
She didn’t want any of this anymore. Not the feelings, the pain. Not this house.
She didn’t want to live in a house that didn’t fit her. With money that didn’t belong to her. And spend every single waking moment of every single day thinking about what she no longer had.
But if she moved, she’d have to remove Thomas. She’d have to go into this room.
There were people she could hire to handle it. They could pack up his things, and even send it all to charity. Or to his parents. She hadn’t talked to them since the funeral, but they might want his stuff. She’d tried to make Thomas proud during those first few weeks. He’d never stopped loving his parents, so she’d called and left messages. She’d wanted to check in on them. But they’d never returned her calls.
In a fit of misery months later, she’d tried once more. That time, their house phone had been disconnected. If she could have grieved with them—with people who’d once loved Thomas—that might have made things better.
The radio on the first floor burst to life, and she went still as she listened. The missing hikers had been found. Hurt, but all safe. The sixteen-year-old was in critical condition, and was being transported to the hospital. “I’m sorry, Thomas.” She rolled her head back and forth again, seeing nothing but pain. She and Thomas would have been out there tonight. “I didn’t mean to mess everything up.”
Standing on trembling legs, she took a moment to steady herself before returning downstairs. But instead of heading down the hall, back to her white dungeon, she turned before she could think about what she was doing and opened the door. Stale air hit first. Next was the sight of the cardboard boxes stacked one on top of the other. They lined the far wall, holding all the knickknacks, pictures, and random paraphernalia that had once been her husband’s. Spread out in the room around her was ski equipment, hiking gear, a mountain bike, and weight-lifting machines. Anything and everything he’d ever loved taking part in. The room was full of Thomas.
Yet Thomas wasn’t here.
She moved through the carnage until she reached the closet and opened the doors. After her mother had brought all of his things back inside the house, Harper had moved the totes up here and had spent one painstakingly long afternoon rehanging each and every article of clothing.
It was all still there. Waiting. For nothing.
Without making a sound, she cleared a small spot beneath his T-shirt collection, accumulated from their travels, and lowered herself to the plush carpet. Where she curled up in the fetal position and fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Warm drops of rain danced on Nick’s head and the back of his neck as he came out of the electronics store. He hunched his shoulders and picked up speed, hurrying through the parking lot, and the second he reached his truck door, his cell began to ring. In one fluid move, he slid onto the driver’s seat, tossing the box beside him, and pulled out his phone.
His momentary letdown over not seeing Harper’s name pop up on the screen was quickly overshadowed by the fact that his sister was FaceTiming him. He swiped the droplets of water from his hair and connected the call—only to find two gorgeous five-year-olds giggling at him.
“Hi, Uncle Nick!” They both shouted at the same time.
He relaxed into the seat. “Hi, girls. How are you? What are you doing together?”
“Haley camed home,” Jenna squealed. “I’m at her house right now, and we’ve been playing and then we’re going to help Aunt Dani make cookies and then go outside and eat them while we have a picnic with our other friend Leslie.”
Nick sucked in a breath as if he’d been the one to rattle out all those words. “That sounds like a very fun time to me. I wish I could have a picnic with you.”
Dani’s face appeared behind the girls. “Hey, Nick, how are you?”
“Good.”
“The girls couldn’t wait to call you. Haley brought you something that she wanted to show you, and Jenna said she needed to make sure you weren’t sad anymore.” Dani blinked at the camera. “Are you okay, Nick?”
The way she asked the question, he knew she had a specific meaning. Was he okay over breaking up with Harper? “Never better,” he replied.
Who’d ratted him out to his sister?
A white object appeared in front of the screen, too close to be
in focus. “Look what I brought for you,” Haley said.
“Pull it back, honey, so he can see it better,” Dani said in the background, then the white was pulled away and Nick could make out a small doll-size igloo in Haley’s hands.
He grinned wide.
The child giggled again. “I found you an igloo like you wanted!”
“I see that you did. Is it big enough for me to sleep in?”
“No, silly. But I’ll let you play with one of my babies if you want to. She can sleep in it.”
“That sounds perfect to me. Will you keep it at your house for me, and when I come to visit we can both play with it?”
“Yes. I will do that.”
“Can I play, too?” Jenna asked. “I’m going to be here all weekend. Daddy said I could. He and Mama had some talking to do.”
“You absolutely can play with us, too.” He was glad to hear she wouldn’t be around her parents this weekend if they planned to “talk,” because their talking was rarely at a volume that excluded others. “But I won’t be back this weekend,” he told her. He’d only been gone for three days, and he certainly wasn’t ready to return.
“Then I’ll play with it the next time I’m here.” Jenna’s round face suddenly leaned in closer to the screen. “Are you still sad, Uncle Nick?” she whispered.
Broken was more like it. It pained him to realize that Jenna had picked up on his mood. “I’m really good, sweetheart. Not sad at all. Don’t worry about me, okay? You just play with Haley and have lots of fun.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
After a few more minutes of chatting with the girls, they said their good-byes and ran off. Then Dani was back on the screen. She sat at her kitchen table, and Nick could see the worry in her eyes.
“Stop it,” he said.
“I can’t. You brought a woman to the house, Nick. You’ve never done that before. Is it serious?”
“Come on. You know I don’t do serious.”
“But Gabe said—”
“Gabe makes things up,” he cut in. Which wasn’t true. “Don’t believe anything he says, he’s just trying to shift the attention off of him. It was nothing. A fling while I was at home.” He reached for the new laptop box and began picking at one of its corners. “It’s over.”
And he wished it had never begun.
“Oh, Nick.”
He gave a bored look at her weepy-sad tone. “One more word about it and I hang up. You can either tell me about your trip, you can let me tell you about my new plans, or you can give me one more long puppy-dog face and this conversation is done. You choose.”
Her puppy-dog face cleared before he’d finished speaking. “What new plans?”
“I suspected that would get you.” He turned the camera to the laptop box. “I plan to take over the books for the farm.”
What he didn’t tell her was that he also planned to use the new computer for his fall college courses. He’d registered that morning.
“Why?” she asked. She sounded at a loss as to why he’d want to be a part of things.
“It’s time I helped out.” He brought the camera back to him. “I took a look at the financials while I was at home, and I could tell Dad needed some help. Probably it would have been nice if it’d crossed my mind to be useful long before now, but it didn’t. And I’m sorry about that. I’m sure you could’ve stood to delegate a task or two to me over the years, too.”
“I was fine,” she assured him. “You were busy with your career.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But still. Better late than never, huh? I haven’t told him yet, though. Save that for me. I’ll call him later tonight, and then I’ll be back in town in two weeks for the local rodeo. I’ll transfer everything over to my computer then.”
If he weren’t mistaken, pride washed over his sister’s face. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the help.”
They talked for a few more minutes, and just before they hung up, he said, “One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Let’s start a regular family dinner. I know not everyone is home very often, but I’ll be back in two weeks, and I think Gabe still plans to be there. I have no idea about Nate”—Nate had been gone before Nick returned from Harper’s—“but maybe we can talk Cord into a weekend trip home. Possibly it could grow into everyone being in the same place a few times a year.”
Love shone from his sister’s eyes. “That sounds really good.”
“You want to talk to Gloria about it? It should be at the farm, don’t you think?”
Dani nodded, and Nick could see that the idea appealed to her as much as it did to him. They’d come a long way since the previous summer. “I’ll talk to her,” she said. “And I’ll call Cord. And Jaden, too. With it being so close to harvest and both of them planning to come in for that, it’s possible neither can fit in another trip home. But I’ll ask. I might even beg.”
“Thanks.” The world somehow felt better in that moment than it had in a while. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Let me know what I can bring for the dinner.”
They hung up, and he looked down at the computer. He’d already made several big moves today. College, the farm’s books, suggesting a family dinner. Might as well make one more.
He pulled up his agent’s number and placed a call.
The pain in Nick’s thigh wasn’t the worst he’d ever had, but he certainly could have gone through the rest of the weekend without it.
He cringed as he lowered to a seat on the bleachers, an unopened beer in his hand. He’d be skipping his second round that night but had been cleared for the following evening. After getting tossed, he’d barely had time to roll out of the way before taking a kick to his femur. A split second slower and the bone could have snapped instead of leaving him with a deep bruise.
“You good?” Nate asked. He waited beside Nick, letting him get settled with his bad leg stretched out on the riser before him like some kind of invalid.
“Feel like a hundred bucks,” Nick grumbled. He’d been stupid tonight. Let his mind wander when he should have been focused.
And it had wandered to the woman who didn’t want him. Who’d sent her youngest sister in her place this weekend instead of having the guts to show up herself. Five days, and there’d been no word.
Big shocker.
As if he’d thought she might realize she’d been wrong. But no. The idea of them developing into something had only been in Nick’s pathetic head.
Nate offered his plate of funnel cake.
“I hate the stuff,” Nick growled.
His brother rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Your attitude could use some work.”
“And I didn’t ask you to show up and point that out to me all day.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m the type who does things without being asked.”
Even though he complained, Nick had actually been glad to see his brother. Given that Nate had been silent all week, Nick had assumed he’d made it halfway around the world already. Yet when Nick had checked into the hotel that afternoon, there his twin had been, sitting in the lobby.
Nick ignored him now and watched the action in the arena. Female barrel racing was up, and there were some top-notch riders at this event. The two brothers watched in silence for several minutes. After Nick had been seen by the medic, they’d made their way to the far end of the stands. It wasn’t a sold-out crowd, so they had the area to themselves.
When Jeb Mauley passed in front of them, the green fringe on his chaps flapping around his calves, he tossed Nick a nod. “You okay?”
“I will be soon enough.”
“Good deal. Let me know if you need anything. Hope to see you out there tomorrow.”
“Thanks, man.”
Jeb had put in a near-perfect ride earlier, and if he stayed on track for the weekend, he’d take home the pot. After he moved on, Nate set his now-empty plate to the side and unscrewed the top off his beer. He leaned back, his elbows on the seat behind him
.
“That kid’s got some skill,” Nate noted, indicating Jeb. “Watched him ride earlier.”
“He has a lot of skill. That’s why I put in a good word for him with Charlie.”
This brought Nate back upright. “You made a decision.”
“PBR isn’t for me,” Nick confirmed.
“Good for you. You’re going to school, then?”
“Full-time. I already registered.” Nick finally gave up trying to focus on barrel racing and decided to put it all out there. See how his brother took it. “I’m also moving back to Birch Bay.”
“No kidding?”
“Not to the farm, but in town,” he clarified. “And I think you should come home, too.”
That wiped the superior look from Nate’s face. “I think you should be careful not to let any more bulls ring your bells.”
“I’m just saying that Dani changed. She was wrong about what she wanted out of her life. Gabe moved to LA, so clearly he wasn’t happy with his choices, either. I’m moving back to town. Maybe we’ve all been wrong.”
“Gabe moved because if he didn’t, he would’ve had to get a divorce from the witch of the west.”
“Regardless, if he’d really wanted to run the farm, wouldn’t he have fought harder to stay?” Nick had thought about that a lot over the months. Yes, Gabe and Michelle’s marriage was rocky. Hell, it was flat-out fractured right down the middle. It had been for years. Yet he’d left the farm. And it had almost seemed to Nick as if he’d been glad to go. “He spent years managing the place,” Nick pointed out. “However, he had no issue packing up and heading out. Staying wasn’t what he wanted.”
Nick continued. “Jaden split. Cord not only left home, but he bought a permanent place in Billings. Not that I expect him to fill it with a wife and babies, but he made it clear he has no intention of coming back. And then there’s you. You roamed the country for years before ending up about as far away as you can get, and you still spend months at a time on a fishing boat, drifting far away from civilization. We all ran. We all hid. I’m saying that maybe it’s time we stop.”