Chapter 13
Dustin sat on the floor of his study, leaning back against his desk, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He felt like he’d been shot, a gaping wound through his heart. All he’d wanted to do was touch her again, feel the warmth of her skin, coax a smile onto her face. Remembering the moment he fell in love with her had him yearning beyond reason – and she was still in his house.
For ten years he’d been so sure she didn’t pay either of them any mind, left him and continued on with her headline-making life – parties and pop stars and sequins and smiles. He never once gave any pause on what she was feeling – she was the one that left.
But every minute she’d been in the house, guarded and searching, she’d been telling him exactly the opposite. If she didn’t think of him, why did she come? Why did she blanch when she saw he was home? Why did she look at him with melancholy eyes that seared into his skin? Why did she stay?
He knew why she left him that night. Her life had been full of sunshine and rainbows up to that point, always getting what she wanted, always off to another adventure. He’d never understood why she’d fallen in love with a man like him, one who couldn’t give her any of that. She said she didn’t need him to give her anything, just love. And this girl who’d never been disappointed or downtrodden, she got dealt an insurmountable blow. The best day of their life, their wedding day, shattered into a million pieces with one soft-spoken I’m so sorry from a man in a white coat.
And Faith couldn’t deal. Instead she ran from it as quick as she could with not one look back. That included him and his heartbreak and everything that their life was supposed to be. He’d run after her into the rain, trying to reach through her fog of sadness, but a car crash intervened. She hadn’t been there when he woke up; then and there he decided to wash his hands of her. It was his turn in the hospital, and she hadn’t been there to hold his hand.
But had he been wrong? About all of it?
Dustin heard the front door slam and didn’t look up, barely registering the sound. When it happened again less than a minute later, he raised his head slightly. Just enough to see Peter set himself in the doorway. “Well, you’re getting your wish.”
“Which one is that?” Dustin asked.
“Faith. She’s leaving.”
“What did you say to her?”
Peter scoffed. “Yeah, like this is my fault. What did you say to her?”
“Nothing at all,” Dustin said. He just saw her, really saw her, since the first moment she stepped into the house. Her sadness, her yearning, her scars.
“So you’re just going to let her go?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying I wanted, right?” Dustin murmured, almost to himself.
“That’s what you’ve been saying.”
Dustin thought about the tattoo, lemons growing together, and vaulted up from the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Faith looked at the clothes in her hands, reflected in the bathroom mirror, and disgust rose inside her again. She turned and threw them in the garbage can. She didn’t want to be reminded of anything that had happened here.
Dustin stood like a wall in front of her, taking up the whole doorway. Silence built the tension, a thick fog she couldn’t see around. “How long are you going to stand there?” she asked.
“As long as I have to.”
Faith rolled her eyes. “What movie did you step out of, He-man?”
“A very predictable one. Now tell me what you’re doing.”
“What does it looks like? I’m packing. I’m leaving. I’m getting the hell out of Dodge.”
“If this is about the tattoo – ”
“I do not want to talk about that.” She didn’t ever want to talk about that, least of all with him. “Cordial was a pipe dream. I’ve worn out my welcome. It’s time I go.”
“Your car’s not fixed.”
“I don’t care. Keep it.”
He rolled his eyes at that, and she could see the judgment taking hold. She was so tired of seeing that from him; it was the only emotion he had when there was no chance of bare skin in sight. “Stop it!” she yelled.
“Stop looking at me like that. You think I’m frivolous – I don’t care. One Audi is more than worth the price of escape. So I don’t have to see what you think of me. How you judge me. How you break me. I have done the best I could, and obviously that wasn’t good enough for you. Hell, maybe you’re even right about that. But I’m done apologizing for it. Ten years is damn well long enough.”
Not one inch of him moved – the same stoic expression, powerful stance, even breath. “Please let me pass.” The memory of him had been standing in her way for a decade. She needed to move past the worry and fear and uncertainty. Past the uncontrollable needing and wanting. Past this reality – where they knew everything yet nothing at all.
Their eyes met, for a thousand moments or barely one. He stepped aside, and she steeled herself for walking by as she left, afraid he’d reach for her. “Don’t go,” Dustin whispered.
“What?”
“Don’t go.” He looked at her through the doorway. “I can’t watch you walk away again.”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice broke as she asked it.
He growled in reply, as if the words were ripped from him. “I don’t know.” And then he was across the room, his hands cupping her face, his mouth pillaging hers. The kiss was intense – their tongues dancing together with lightning speed, as if they’d never stopped – and then it was over.
Dustin leaned his forehead against hers, and she trembled with uncertainty. He grabbed her hand and placed it right over his heart, drawing her even closer. The quick rhythm under her fingers belied the stillness of everything else. “I can’t watch you leave again. Please don’t. Stay.”
She shouldn’t agree – not with her composure crumbling around her. But she also couldn’t forget the last time he’d asked her to stay, screamed the words after her. Faith couldn’t ignore such a request twice, not when it was whispered against her skin. She nodded reluctantly. “Okay. I’ll stay until tomorrow.” She bit her lip, remembering what tomorrow was – their anniversary.
Harmony dropped down into an armchair in the living room and pulled out her cell phone. She was supposed to be doing her homework, but Dad must have lasting brain damage from a motorcycle accident if he thought she could concentrate on anything but their houseguest. She’d promised she wouldn’t tell any of her friends about Faith until after she was gone, and she had no problem with that; how was she going to find them their happily ever after if awestruck teenagers started camping out on the lawn?
Since she couldn’t text any of her friends, she texted her sister instead. I think I have seen House Arrest too many times.
Melody’s response was instantaneous. Why is that?
Because I’m starting to think that locking Uncle Dust and the pop star in the barn would be the best plan of action. Would probably make a good movie too.
Harmony laughed at the response, hearing Melody’s droll tone as she read it. Aren’t we dealing with enough movie mayhem at the moment?
Maybe J
Melody didn’t reply, so Harmony just stared off into the corner, wondering what she was even trying to do. The famous bedtime story had made it all sound so wonderful. Two people meeting at Sorrento Ranch while they were off having adventures. Falling in love during a summer filled with runaway horses and campfires and a lemon tree that needed tending. It was one of the reasons Harmony loved Bea and the ranch so much – it had always been a place filled with mystery, romance, and adventure.
She wondered now how much of the story was actually true and how much was just Uncle Dust telling them the way he wished it had gone. His tale was fairly true to the Apple Lodge movies, the pop star angle notwithstanding. Uncle Dust had never mentioned that. First time she’d watched Apple Lodge and noted the similarities, she’d been sure it was one of th
ose Disney additions. Anything to craft a hit soundtrack; it had worked for Camp Rock. Now it seemed that was completely wrong – the pop star had been there all along.
“Harmony? Ah, there you are.” Peter walked into the living room. When he saw her curled into the chair, his brow creased. “What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”
“It’s not that dark,” she protested. “The sun just slipped behind a cloud or something.”
He perched himself on the arm of the chair and reached a hand out to her. “Maybe I should have asked what you’re doing sitting in here alone.”
Harmony shrugged, not really sure herself. “Thinking, I guess.”
“About how I’m an alien imposter?”
She grinned at that, some spirit coming back into her face. “Definitely. Real Earthlings would never make me go to sleep with only a few chapters left in my book.”
“I knew I missed something in the orientation video.”
She turned inquiring eyes on her father. “Why can’t everyone just be happy?”
“Ah,” Peter said. “So this is about your uncle.”
“And you,” she said, moving to sit up a bit. “I don’t understand why it has to be so hard. They have feelings for each other, right?”
“Harmony, honey… It’s complicated.”
“Why does it have to be?” She let her head fall back against the cushion and stared at the ceiling. “I thought growing up was supposed to make things less confusing.”
“That is the great lie of adulthood.” Peter pushed his daughter over to drop down next to her in the chair. She laid her head against his shoulder and curled into his embrace.
“Gee, sounds like so much to look forward to.” Peter laughed at her dry tone and placed a kiss against her forehead.
“What they forget to tell you is life gets in the way of all the fun. When you’re young, your parents take care of all the scary stuff so the only responsibility you have is to run and jump and laugh and play.”
“So adults can’t do any of that stuff?”
“Hey,” Peter said, sounding affronted, “you know I laugh all the time. The jumping might be ill-advised though.” He paused before continuing. “It just isn’t as useful to solve problems.”
Harmony was quiet for a moment. “She’s the reason, right, Dad? The reason he’s sad.”
“Yeah, Peaches,” he murmured, “she’s the reason.”
“And the story – it’s true?”
“More or less.”
Her voice got small. “And there’s nothing we can do about it?”
“Well… I didn’t say that, now did I?”
Faith sat on the back porch, watching the breeze rustle the plants. Dustin had shaken her with his plea for her to stay, and then disappeared to parts unknown. She still felt unsteady, as if she was going to crumble apart any moment. What was she doing here? What had possessed her to ditch her guests for ghosts?
She’d had her cell phone on silent since she arrived, avoiding Jackson asking for status reports, but pulled it out now, needing to connect with someone who wouldn’t tie her up into knots. She clicked on Madison’s name, and a string of unread silly messages appeared. The last one was different. We didn’t scare you away, did we? I’ve been told we can be rather overwhelming.
Faith smiled as she replied. What, you? Never.
The response was instantaneous. She lives!
And then, Seriously though, Trevor is worried we chased you away.
It hadn’t been you guys, Faith thought. Her own anxiety had taken care of that quite nicely. Not you. Just me.
Madison’s words appeared after a pause. You make a habit of running away?
Faith sighed, unsure if she would answer. Madison had told her she was there if she ever wanted to talk. But did she? She usually made sure all of her words were cheerful and light. Staring out into the life she could have had, honesty seemed completely futile.
Yes. I’m really good at it too.
I hear ya, sista.
Faith laughed. You? Really?! I’ll never believe it.
Believe it! I was very good at hiding and running. So very good.
Faith bit her lip and stared at the phone, her thumbs hovering over the keys. How did you stop?
A bird chirped in the distance, and Faith closed her eyes, listening to the merry tune, no sounds of traffic in the distance. It was the quiet she missed the most – the quiet of the landscape, of the life, of her mind. When she looked back down at her phone, Madison had replied.
Took something worth stopping for. To be honest, I ran a few million circles around him before I figured out how to do it. But he was always where I left him. Still is.
Photos popped up on her phone. The first was a candid of Trevor, sitting on her veranda back home with the remnants of lunch and the paper in front of him. In the next one he’d noticed he was being photographed and made a funny face at the camera that had Faith laughing.
The last one Madison jumped into the frame. Trevor was kissing her cheek and had his hand on her belly, just barely visible in the photo. She looked so happy. The caption read You know where to find us when your feet get tired.
Had Madison really been like Faith? The understanding in her eyes suggested it was true. And she’d gotten her happy ending. Maybe it was possible for Faith, too.
She got up from the steps and entered the house, her eyes alighting on Peter. She sat down at the kitchen table next to him and his piles of grading. “You decided to stay,” he said.
“Looks like it.”
He looked up at her with a relieved grin. “Have you come to distract me then for a much needed break?”
“I think I have.” She saw curiosity in his eyes and headed him off at the pass. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Shoot,” Peter said.
Faith reached out and took his hand in hers. “Tell me about your wife.”
A wistful smile appeared on his face. “Darcy was incredible. She had this amazing stare. She’d look at you, and she could see right to the core of you. Scared the hell out of me at twenty-one. Melody has it too and still has the power to strike fear.”
“What was the scariest thing she ever told you?”
Peter’s face sobered. “That she was dying.” Faith squeezed his hand, and he continued. “She was dying from the moment I met her, but it was always the least interesting thing about her. She had this irresistible spirit, this spunk. She was one of the most caring people I ever met. She cared, really cared, about everyone and was just the nicest person.”
“She sounds perfect.”
Peter’s eyes sparkled. “Definitely not. She was a bit of a menace in the kitchen. Frankly pretty surprised a fireman didn’t marry her before I did what with all the fires she started. She could swear like a sailor if you got her going. Stubborn as an ox and hated letting people help her. It’s a wonder she ever gave me the time of day.”
“Stubbornness is no match for the Andrews charm.”
Peter laughed and leaned back in his chair. “I miss her voice the most. The way she said my name. The way her tone could tell me exactly what she was thinking.” He shook his head, lost in thought, before his eyes refocused on Faith. “She would have liked you.”
“That’s a nice thought.”
“It’s true,” Peter said. “I told her all about you.”
Faith rolled her eyes. “All horrible things, I’m sure.”
“East, come on, you know that’s not true.”
She shrugged. Peter’s words hit a chord in her. The way he talked about his wife was the way Madison talked about Trevor – deep and honest and pure. Had Dustin talked about her that way, a decade ago when their love was more than just a mirage in the distance?
She patted Peter’s hand and got up, feeling the need to run again. “Do you want to know?” he asked, his eyes already back on the grading in front of him.
“Know what?”
“What Darcy said was at the core of Dustin?”
She stopped halfway across the kitchen, looking at the back of his head bent over the papers. “You. She told me it was you.”
Chapter 14
Dustin turned off the band saw and dropped down onto a nearby bale of hay. He didn’t have any animals to feed, but he used it for the garden. Also it made a wonderfully uncomfortable place to sit when the world wouldn’t leave him alone.
He looked at his equipment and laughed at himself. He knew better than to try and use the saw when he wasn’t a hundred percent present. Usually he worked until exhaustion, hyper-focused on the task in front of him so stray thoughts couldn’t make their way in. This was exactly the opposite, so much noise already in his mind he couldn’t make room for anything but routine. Blades belonged nowhere near him right now if he wanted to keep all of his fingers.
What had he been thinking, running to Faith and asking her to stay? Stay for what, for him? That was laughable – they weren’t anything but strangers that sparked when they touched. And now she was here, in his house for another night, and he had no idea what he wanted to do about it.
He’d grabbed her hand, placed it over his heart and drew her in close, and the minute she touched him, he wanted to run in the other direction. She made him feel so uncomfortable in his skin. Not because she didn’t belong, because she felt too right. She’d taken huge pieces of him with her the last time she left – why the hell would he invite her in to take more? The only foregone conclusion was that she was leaving. Why would he leave the door unlocked and invite the thief to come and play?
His eyes drifted to the unfinished porch swing in the corner of the barn. He liked to collect reasons not to work on it, store them up in the bank until he could collect dividends on his apathy. The truth was he had started it ten years ago, the minute he found out he was going to be a father. He wanted something tangible for the baby. He’d toyed with the idea of a rocking chair but settled on a porch swing instead, something big enough for them all to use together, here. Roots.
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