It had been three days since her release from the hospital. Three long days. She was easing back into her work schedule. The flooding had, fortunately, been quickly resolved and limited to the mechanical room. The day of pampering had gone off without a hitch.
She had much to be thankful for. She was so glad for a warm bed. For food. Running water. And okay, makeup and hair-spray. Folks had dropped by daily, arms laden with casseroles and cookies and homemade jams. Her body was recovering.
Her heart, not so much.
She hadn’t heard from Noah since he’d left the hospital. Not that she expected to. On Friday, while she’d been at lunch, he’d dropped off the things she’d left at his house: her purse and her flats. He must’ve forgotten her phone or thought it was in her purse. She was going to have to call him eventually. Or go pick it up. She thought she’d left it on the sofa, but maybe it had fallen between the cushions or something.
Also noticeably absent were the divorce papers. He’d probably taken them straight to the attorney’s office when he’d been in town on Friday. Any day now a judge would declare their marriage officially over.
Her chest squeezed tight, and she placed her palm over it, pressing against the familiar pain.
She’d heard through the grapevine that he was back on his feet. She tried to let that comfort her. But maybe there would always be that hollow spot inside—the spot that Noah used to fill.
The overhead lights flickered off, and she jumped. She hadn’t realized anyone was still here. She should leave. Go back to her quiet apartment and try to stay busy while she worked him out of her system. Her throat tightened against the emotion that gathered there.
“Josephine?” The low voice rumbled quietly through the empty space.
She turned in the pew and forced a smile. “Hi, Pastor Jack.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here,” he said as he approached, all masculine grace in his Sunday clothes. His black hair shimmered under the lights. “Want me to turn them back on?”
“No, that’s all right.” She gathered her purse. “I should go. Let you get on out of here.”
“You can stay as long as you want. The door will lock behind you.”
A few heartbeats later she settled back in the pew, relieved. “Thanks. I think I just might.”
“You had quite the week. What a blessing that help arrived when it did.”
“An answered prayer, believe me.”
“Oh, I believe. He always answers—sometimes just not in the way we want.” The quiet hum of the furnace kicked off, and silence settled around them like a nest of feathers.
Jack shifted, tilting his head. “Is there anything I can help you with, Josephine?”
She drew in a long breath and let it out. She hadn’t talked to him about anything personal since she’d found out he was Noah’s best friend. And as much as she’d feared he would betray her confidences, she knew now that he never had.
“I don’t know,” she said finally. “I’ve been working through some things this week. Processing it all, I guess. What happened in the mountains. My relationship with God. With Noah . . . It’s a lot to think on.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I managed to complicate both relationships. With Noah . . .” She swallowed hard and forced herself to say it aloud. “I guess I always doubted that someone like him could love me unconditionally.”
“And then he went and proved you right.”
Her spine lengthened even as the arrow hit its mark, leaving a ripple of pain. “He only did what I deserved.”
“Human love has its limits, I guess.” Jack’s eyes softened. His hand landed lightly on her shoulder. “But if you’re searching for a love that’ll never let you down, you’ve come to the right place.”
He smiled and gave her shoulder a final squeeze before he walked away.
He was a good listener. A good friend. He’d never judged her, never gossiped about her. She imagined he had his faults—he was only human. But she was suddenly very grateful Noah had him in his life.
“Pastor Jack . . . ?”
He turned, silhouetted by the light from the vestibule.
“Thanks for your . . . confidentiality. And for being such a good friend to Noah.”
“Of course,” he said. “Stay as long as you like, Josephine.” And then he was gone.
Chapter 35
Noah drew the brush across Sweetpea’s withers. The bay quarter horse had gotten into some burrs and needed a good brushing. She put her head down and gave a deep, fluttering sigh as tension eased from her muscles.
“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
The horse’s eyes rolled toward him.
“Yeah, I got your number, little girl.”
In the corner of the barn Shadow ceased his sniffing and regarded Noah, one ear pricked, the other flopping helplessly forward. Poor dog had hardly left Noah’s side since he’d gotten home from the hospital. Being cooped up alone for two days and two nights had spooked him good.
“Wasn’t talking to you, fella.”
Shadow sniffed the air, then went back to his investigations.
Noah’s hands worked mechanically over Sweetpea’s lean muscles, then he set down the brush. He worked baby oil into the crest where the bulk of the burrs were located and began the tedious task of brushing them out.
He’d already fed the horses and turned them out, cleaned out the stalls. A couple of his friends had gone out while he was still in the hospital and tracked down Kismet. The horse had some nasty scratches on his foreleg and chest from busting through the fence. He was also malnourished and more anxious than ever. Noah had spent a lot of time with him since his return. Had spent a lot of time out here, period.
There was a lot to catch up on. The horses needed extra care from their neglect. Buffer Zone had signs of an infection, and Noah had called the vet in right away. He was going to be okay. They all were.
That’s what he was telling himself anyway.
He had plenty to keep him busy out here. But he also needed to finish sanding the drywall seams in the attic, get a couple coats of paint on. He was almost finished. But he couldn’t seem to work up the motivation. He’d found himself avoiding his own home.
The house held too many memories. Josie was everywhere he looked—standing over his stove, steam curling her hair. Sprawled on his rug with her Monopoly money, his socks bunched around her ankles. Tucked into her corner of the sofa, her red nose peeking out from his quilt.
He couldn’t even escape her in his bedroom; his sheets still carried the sweet and spicy scent of her. He’d reminded himself a dozen times to run the bedding through the wash, but he hadn’t found the time.
Either that or he was a glutton for punishment.
He missed her. There was no getting around it. He couldn’t think of her without feeling all hollow inside. He told himself he’d survive this. He’d lost her once before and lived to tell about it. He could do it again. But in some ways this time was worse, because there was no anger to cushion the hurt.
It had been hard to stay away from her this week. To keep from checking in on her. She didn’t have family like he did. Didn’t have parents calling, a brother stopping over to lend an extra hand, cousins ribbing her about running out of gas. She was alone in the world but for a handful of friends and a grandma she hadn’t met until three years ago. One who didn’t even remember her from one visit to the next.
He’d driven into town last Friday to return her things. Man, he’d gotten himself all worked up over that. First he’d grabbed coffee with Jack, then gone to the grocery, telling himself if he had cold food in the truck he wouldn’t be tempted to make a nuisance of himself.
But when he finally made his way to the barbershop, she was gone for lunch. Waiting around seemed too pathetic, so he left her things with Callie and headed back up the mountain. He didn’t know if that made him a saint or a coward.
Since he’d returned, his mind had been as a
ctive as his body, reliving all the things she’d said out there. Their final conversation at the hospital.
His thoughts spun back further too, rehashing everything from the past ad infinitum with the fresh perspective he’d gotten since learning about Josie’s childhood.
A three-year-old conversation with Jack replayed like an annoying airport announcement in his head. It had happened a few days after Josie’s betrayal. His wife had been staying in her old apartment over the barbershop, and Jack had come over to see him.
“We’re getting a divorce.” Noah tossed back the last of his Coke, wishing for something stronger. Something to numb the pain.
“Is that your choice or hers?” Jack asked.
“Oh, it’s mine. I’m filing tomorrow.” He got up and paced across the small space. His body had never housed this much anger. He didn’t know what to do with it all. His wife stirred up anger and hurt with the same force she’d stirred up love and desire.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Jack asked.
Noah gave him a hard look. “First you don’t want me to marry her, and now you don’t want me to divorce her? What’s your problem?”
Obviously Noah had rushed into the marriage, just as Jack had warned. Obviously he’d made a huge mistake. He didn’t need his friend rubbing his nose in it.
Noah clenched his fists. “You want to hear that you were right about her? Fine. You were right. Happy?”
“Don’t be an idiot. Of course I’m not happy. I want what’s best for you.”
“And that’s an unfaithful wife?” His eyes sharpened on Jack. “She cheated on me, Jack. That’s grounds for divorce by anyone’s standards, even God’s.”
Jack gave a slow nod. “That’s true. You have every right.”
“Darn right I do. And it’d be nice if my best friend was on my side.”
“I’m on both your sides, Noah. You’re angry, and that’s perfectly understandable. I just think it might be a good idea to slow down a bit. Not make a rash decision. That’s all.”
“And I think it might be a good idea if you just butted out.”
Sweetpea nickered and shifted. Noah had been pulling too hard on a tangle of burrs. “Sorry about that, girl.”
Just remembering that period of time, the anger had seeped under his skin all over again. He blew out a breath, reminding himself it was over. That he’d forgiven her.
He wasn’t sure if he’d ever apologized to Jack for taking his anger out on him. He needed to; it was long overdue. And his friend had been right.
Noah had rushed into the marriage. But he’d also rushed into the divorce. Given what he’d learned about Josie in the mountains, her behavior was understandable, if not excusable. He wondered again why she’d never told him before. Why she had to be practically dying in his arms to tell him.
She’d been unsure of his love, obviously. She’d taken all the responsibility for that, but did some of the blame belong at his feet? He’d hardly let the door slam behind her, then he was filing for divorce.
Divorce.
He thought of those papers still sitting up at the house, hidden from sight by sections of newspaper he’d purposely laid there. He wasn’t rushing this time. Maybe it was stupid. But he was going to let the dust settle a bit.
Josie’s words came back to him. There was this hole in me, Noah. I’d never been loved unconditionally. And I so desperately needed to be loved like that.
Had that really been his job though? Wasn’t that a parent’s responsibility? His heart twisted as Josie’s childhood—what he knew of it—played back in his mind. If so, her parents had failed miserably.
Was married love even supposed to be unconditional? He didn’t think so. Otherwise there would be no “out” for infidelity. Besides, wouldn’t that give people free rein to do anything they wanted? Basically a free pass to cheat or abuse?
A cold shiver passed over him, and his skin suddenly felt too tight. One heartbreak had been quite enough, thank you very much. Why would he willingly sign up for more? Such a love would require an abundance of either courage or insanity. He wasn’t sure which.
But what if God was calling him to do just that?
A recent conversation with Jack buzzed in his head like a pesky mosquito. This one from last Friday at the coffee shop. Noah had told him at length about their ordeal in the mountains. He left out the specifics of their emotional connection and focused instead on the logistics. That was about all he could handle.
Jack listened patiently, no doubt hearing a lot more than Noah said. He ended the story with the rescue, giving only a brief recap of his time at the hospital. He purposely made it sound as if he and Josie had merrily gone their separate ways.
Jack took a slow sip of his coffee, his brown eyes reflective as he studied Noah. “Let me get this straight.” He took his time setting his cup back on the saucer. “You were freezing to death out there, literally—and yet you gave Josephine your boots. Your coat.”
Heat flushed into Noah’s neck. His jaw clenched. He stared steadily into his friend’s eyes, daring him to say more. He should’ve known Jack would dare.
“I guess,” Jack said, “it’s sometimes easier to give your life than your heart, huh?”
His buddy had a way of saying just the wrong thing. Or maybe it was the right thing. Noah wasn’t so sure anymore. Maybe he was less afraid of dying than he was of getting hurt again. Did his friend ever think about that?
Noah sure did. Ever since Friday. And the thought was like a burr of his own, deep in the tangled mess of his heart.
Chapter 36
Josephine couldn’t put it off any longer. Her phone wasn’t going to walk down the mountain on its own. She’d already missed a call from the nursing home about Nana, and multiple calls from Ava—and those were just the ones she knew of.
Ava had stopped by the barbershop on Josephine’s first day back to work and wrapped her arms around Josephine mid-shampoo. “I was so worried about you!” she said with the drama only a teenaged girl could deliver. “Don’t you ever get lost in the mountains again!”
Josephine took her for hot chocolate when she got off work. Ava told her all about spring fling night with Alex, and Josephine oohed and aahed as she scrolled through the photos on Ava’s phone. The girl had looked lovely in a fitted pink dress, her hair in a half-up, half-down arrangement, and Alex looked handsome in his black tux.
Apparently the two had hit it off, and a second date had already been set. The girl’s cheeks flushed as she told her about Alex holding her hand on the way home and the good-night kiss at her door.
Ah, young love. Josephine hoped it worked out for Ava. Or at the very least, that Alex wouldn’t break the girl’s tender heart.
Josephine turned onto Noah’s road. Her car was running fine now. He’d had it towed to the garage before she’d even left the hospital. Apparently he didn’t want her coming back up here to fetch it. Well, too bad. If he hadn’t wanted to see her, he should’ve returned her phone.
She pulled into Sweetbriar Ranch. All of the snow had melted off, leaving the grass bright green, and leaf buds proliferated on the trees. Pointy daffodil stems poked through the ground beneath the white fence that wound and curved alongside the drive. Spring had officially arrived. It was almost as if their wintry nightmare had never happened at all.
Blood whooshed in her ears as she pulled up to Noah’s house. Her heart beat up into her throat, and her blood pressure shot up at the thought of seeing him again.
Jeez o Pete, Josephine. Take it easy.
She still wasn’t quite up to speed. Her toes still hurt, and she tired easily. That’s why her chest felt too tight to draw a breath.
She turned off the car and gave the steering wheel a squeeze, whispering a quick plea for help. Noah’s truck wasn’t in the drive, so maybe he wasn’t here at all. Fingers crossed.
Yeah, that’s why you spent all that time on your hair and makeup this morning. Her eyes flashed up to the mirror, checking h
er lipstick.
Disgusted with herself, she snapped the mirror shut and stepped from her car. She walked resolutely up the wooden steps to the porch. She could handle this. Never mind the thorny vine of hope that twined around her heart at the thought of seeing him again.
She lifted her hand and knocked on the door. There was no raucous barking or sound of claws clicking against the wood floors. If Shadow wasn’t here, then neither was his master. He was tending to his horses or fixing a fence or something. Maybe he was even at Mary Beth’s. She told herself the little twist in her stomach was relief.
She gave a second knock anyway, shifting on her feet, peering casually through the darkened living room window.
She fiddled with her purse strap, uncertain. She hadn’t wanted to come back up here again. It had taken all morning just to work up her nerve. As most folks around here did, Noah left his doors unlocked. She’d just find her phone and go. He’d never even know she’d been here. Only Shadow would know, when he detected her scent, and it would be their little secret.
Yes, she was a big fat chicken.
She twisted the handle and stepped over the threshold into the quiet house, a perplexing mix of relief and disappointment filling her.
Just find your phone and be grateful you avoided additional pain.
When would she learn? She dropped her purse on the table and went to her corner of the sofa. Her corner. She scowled at the fanciful thought.
She stuck her hand into the crevice between the armrest and cushion and felt around, wincing at the feel of crumbs and whatnot. She pulled out a pencil. A black balled-up sock. A—she frowned, pulling out the round object—chewed-up golf ball?
She was setting aside the hodgepodge of objects when she saw something else lying there on the end table. Under a stack of newspapers. Just the corner peeking out.
The divorce papers.
Her breath caught. She slowly straightened, her eyes locked on the document. Her heart played dead as her breath left in one long exhale. He hadn’t taken them yet.
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