by Caroline Lee
Roger had been standing over a sobbing Heather, red-faced and ranting about how this was her fault. Her leg stuck out at an awkward angle, and in that moment, Andrew had never wanted to hurt another human being as much as he wanted to hurt Roger. But Sean was standing beside him, trying to be brave, and Andrew had known whatever happened next, the boy would always remember.
Without taking his eyes from his piece-of-scum brother-in-law, Andrew had spoken to Sean. “Get your bags and your mom’s purse and keys. Get your sister out of bed and put her in your mom’s car.”
And while the boy had raced to do that, Andrew had crossed that room, scooped up his sister—who hadn’t been able to suppress her scream of pain at the movement—and turned to Roger.
He’d made sure all his rage and disgust showed when he’d said, “I’m taking them someplace safe. I’m going to help her press charges, and you’re never going to see them again.”
It was his last words to the man, even throughout the divorce proceedings, and they’d been prophetic. Andrew and Sean had held one another and Sophie while Heather had gone into surgery, then the four of them had become the family they’d needed. It had been a slow healing process, and Andrew wasn’t sure how much his sister still thought about her ex-husband, but they were through it.
It had been the hardest part of his life, and it had been caused by the man standing in front of him, here and now. Andrew shook his head, realizing what Bob’s horrified reaction had to mean.
“No!” Bob whispered hoarsely, whipping his head back and forth. “No! She never said—” He sank down into the chair, deflating. “She never said he was actually hurting her, abusing her. I assumed she meant her feelings, that’s what I—Oh God forgive me,” he moaned, running his hand over his face. “She never said, Andrew. I swear to you.”
The older man turned pleading eyes to Andrew. “She never said, never corrected me. I should’ve listened harder, but she just said ‘he hurt me,’ and I thought she meant…”
Suddenly, Andrew’s knees felt very weak. He moved to one of the two leather chairs in front of Bob’s desk, and sank down into it, not letting go of Rachel’s hand.
“You thought she meant her feelings,” he whispered dully.
When Bob nodded mutely, Andrew felt tears pool in his eyes. Years of anger, of bitterness and disgust and estrangement from a family who believed marriage is forever, and why? Because Bob had misunderstood his niece when she’d come to him for help. Andrew had painted his uncle as the villain in this story, but it was just miscommunication?
Rachel moved up beside him, her other hand covering their joined hands. Twisting into motion, he reached around and grabbed her around her waist. Their hands still clutched between them, he pulled her down until she was sitting in his lap, and buried his face in her shoulder.
That’s when the tears finally came.
She’d stiffened, but now relaxed, letting go with one hand to reach up and stroke the back of his head. It was like they were alone, just the two of them, instead of sitting in his uncle’s office with the man doing mourning of his own.
“I’m so sorry, Andrew,” Bob whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t know.
Rachel held Andrew. “It’s not your fault.”
Her words reverberated through Andrew, and he felt as if she were speaking to both of them, even if he couldn’t make himself lift his face to find out.
“It’s not your fault,” she repeated, “Either of you. It’s not Heather’s fault either. She and Bob just didn’t understand one another, and you—” her voice sounded strangely choked as her hand skimmed over the short hairs on the back of Andrew’s head, “And you only heard one side of the story.”
Finally, he lifted his head, meeting her soft dark eyes. His cheeks were wet from the tears—tears for Heather, tears for himself—but he didn’t care, and knew she didn’t either. In fact, her palm came around to cup his cheek.
“It’s not your fault,” she repeated a third time in a whisper, and bent down to press her forehead against his.
And in that moment, Andrew wanted almost nothing more than to kiss her. To press his lips to hers, to inhale her strength and her essence and her certainty. But he hadn’t kissed her since that disastrous—wonderful!—first one, and they’d agreed to take it slow. So he just breathed deeply, and contented himself with her touch.
It was Bob who broke the silence, blowing his nose noisily. Rachel leaned back and Andrew sat up a little, without loosening his grip on her. He didn’t think he could. She was the only thing in his life right now he was certain of, and he didn’t want to let her go.
He needed her with him, like this, forever.
“I’m sorry, my boy,” Bob repeated, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. Had he been crying? “I’m sorry I didn’t follow up with her, with you. All I knew was she’d told me that—I thought it was nothing more than the same problem all couples face from time to time, and I said so. Then she went off and ended up divorcing him after all, and not speaking to us again.”
“And why did you think that was?” Rachel prodded gently.
The older man shrugged. “This family has never hidden how we feel about commitment and love, and I made it clear to her. I assumed she was avoiding us because she was—” He cleared his throat. “Because she was ashamed of her decision.”
“No,” Andrew growled, although the white-hot anger had faded along with his tears. “She thought you should be ashamed of your attitude.”
Or at least, she had, once Andrew had gotten her away from Roger. Once he’d ranted and raved about their family.
His stomach flopped over. Was he responsible for her pain too? Andrew was certainly the one who’d nurtured the anger against their family; he hadn’t exactly encouraged her not to have contact with them, but he’d made it clear why he was avoiding them, and she’d followed suit.
He closed his eyes on his own shame and remorse. He was going to have to go home and give his sister a big hug and a bigger apology.
Bob was folding his handkerchief, still looking a little ill. “I would’ve been ashamed, had I understood what was going on. I would’ve never encouraged her to go back to him, had I known. None of us knew, you have to believe me.”
Slowly, Andrew nodded. Even their parents and younger siblings didn’t know why Heather had divorced Roger, only that it was for the best. Mom had often commented on how much happier Heather and the kids were without Roger in their lives, and Andrew had assumed that meant she’d guessed at the real nature of their marriage. Neither of their parents had ever made Heather feel guilty about her divorce, but they knew more than the rest of the family.
“I guess I owe Gramps a phone call,” Andrew said, a little dully. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining all this to them, and wondered if he could gloss over the details.
Bob nodded and met his eyes. “I think he’d like that very much, Andrew.”
From her spot in his lap—and she still had made no move to leave—Rachel cleared her throat. “You know, next week is Thanksgiving.”
Whatever look she’d given Bob must’ve conveyed something, because suddenly the older man straightened and looked at Andrew with almost pleading eyes. “It is. And we’re having the usual big shindig at the ranch. I know you haven’t been in years, but it would mean a lot to me—to your parents and Gramps and all of us—if you’d all come this year, Andrew. I’d like the chance to apologize to Heather too.”
“I’m not sure about Heather,” Andrew admitted.
He wasn’t sure yet about himself. Years of anger and disgust couldn’t be wiped away just because he found out he’d been hating for the wrong reason. On the other hand, was there a better time to try, than at Thanksgiving?
Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Rachel. “Will you go with me, if I go?”
And this time, her smile was real and brilliant, and held all the feelings he wanted to tell her, but hadn’t yet. “I would be honored to go to the Quinn family Thanksgiving with you,
Andrew.”
He nodded slowly, and looked back at his uncle once more. “I guess I’ll think about it then. But no promises on Heather’s behalf.”
Bob’s nod was enthusiastic. “If she doesn’t want to come, I’d like to go visit her, if you think she wouldn’t mind. I’ll let you feel her out, but I can’t believe—” His voice broke with emotion, and he looked away before clearing his throat. “I was a fool, and I’d like to give her a hug and apologize, if she’d allow it.”
Andrew thought about his sister—the school librarian who always had love in her heart for everyone. Yes, she’d forgive Bob, because there wasn’t much to forgive. And Andrew…? He inhaled deeply, then let the anger and bitterness flow out with the air. Andrew wasn’t able to push aside years of emotions, but he could forgive Bob, here and now.
He met his uncle’s eyes. “I think that would be a very good idea…Uncle Bob.”
The man seemed to understand the significance, and his eyes softened.
“My boy, thank you.”
CHAPTER TEN
The Quinn family was huge!
Rachel couldn’t believe how many people were at the ranch to celebrate Thanksgiving—and that most of them were related! There were the Quinn grandparents—Gertie and Harley, Andrew had introduced them as—and their five kids, and those kids’ kids. There was even a great-grandson, who belonged to Andrew’s sister Alyssa, a quiet, petite red-head.
Along with the family, some people had brought dates—like Rachel herself—or friends, and there were all the cowboys and hands who worked on the ranch itself attending too! All in all, there must’ve been fifty people bustling around and through the ancient homestead.
“Don’t worry,” Brooke said in a low voice as she moved up beside Rachel.
Rachel tried a smile. “I’m not worried.”
Yes you are, you dork. You’re worried because Andrew and his grandfather have been hiding in Georgia’s office for the last forty minutes.
Her friend scoffed. “You’re totally worried, aren’t you? But don’t worry, we don’t all have to sit together. Some of us are going to be fed at one of the other cabins, and there’s a few eating spaces in this house.” She slipped her arm through Rachel’s and pressed her elbow close, comfortingly. “It’ll be okay.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t worried about where we were going to sit, honestly.”
“Ah-ha! So you were worried about something?”
Roxie sidled up on Rachel’s other side. “What’s Hannah worried about now?” she asked in a mock whisper.
That was it; Rachel burst into laughter. “I swear, I’ve been working with you how long? Your father considers me family! How on God’s green earth can you not remember my name? It’s Rachel”
Roxie, bless her heart, smiled with a twinkle in her eye. “I just get your name confused with Hannah.”
“She’s right.” Brooke nodded solemnly. “They’re both very similar names.”
“Yeah,” Rachel quipped sarcastically. “They both have ‘A’s in them!”
“And ‘H’s!” Roxie giggled.
Brooke poked Rachel in the side. “Feeling better yet, missy?”
Sighing, Rachel had to agree. “Thanks for making me feel welcome. I’m really glad I came.”
Roxie shrugged. “You’re like family, Rachel, as you said.”
“And now that you’re dating our cousin, you’re even closer!”
Rachel smiled at her friend and her coworker. What she and Andrew had…it felt more than dating somehow. He was her boyfriend, yeah, but he…
She sighed. He hadn’t given her any indication he wanted more from her—he hadn’t even kissed her again!—but her feelings for him went way beyond boyfriend/girlfriend. They were more serious.
They were forever.
She sighed, part-longing, part-happiness.
To her surprise, Roxie echoed it. “I know, I miss him too. I can’t stand to be apart.”
Brooke stuck her tongue out at her cousin. “You miss Andrew?”
“No, silly! I miss Ciran.” Roxie sighed again. “We’re newlyweds you know. This turkey toss is taking forever.”
Apparently all the male members of the Quinn family had a tradition which took them outside to throw turkeys at one another, while the ladies stayed inside and put the final touches on the Thanksgiving meal. Andrew had explained it all on the drive over to the Ranch that morning.
“I don’t know,” he’d said, frowning as he concentrated on the road ahead. “It always sounded dumb to me, and this year…”
Rachel had patted his leg. “This year is your first time seeing these people in a long time. You don’t have to dive back in like nothing’s changed. You’re allowed to sit back and watch for a while.”
He’d glanced at her, then back out the front window. “Thanks.” He’d taken a deep breath. “I think I needed that reminder. You’re pretty smart, you know. It’s one of the things I lo— I like about you.”
And that little stumble had been on Rachel’s mind for the last few hours. While he’d been introducing her to his immediate family—his sister Katie and his mother had hugged her like she was an old friend—and while she held his hand as he’d struggled through some awkward “What are you doing here?” conversations, she’d been thinking about that “lo—”. Could it have meant what she hoped it meant?
Andrew had done a good job during that first hour, fielding questions with a combination of humor and honesty, without actually telling any of Heather’s secrets. But then, when his Uncle Harley had announced the turkey toss and the rest of the men trooped out into the cold, he’d hesitated. His grip on her hand had tightened, and she’d ached because she didn’t know how to help him.
But then, his grandfather had stepped up beside him and put his arm around Andrew’s shoulders.
“Welcome home, kiddo,” he’d said in an adorably gruff voice.
And Rachel had watched the flicker of emotions cross Andrew’s face. Sadness and love and a humbling sort of affection, all at once. Gently, she slipped her hand from his and stepped back, so his grandfather could lead him down the hall to one of the offices for a quiet chat.
Whatever they were talking about in there, it must’ve been special. In the last week, since Andrew’s confrontation with his uncle, she’d heard more of his stories about his family. Now, she felt as if she knew them all. And knowing how much affection he felt for his grandfather—the man who’d taught him so much—and knowing how little he’d spoken to the man in the last few years, she knew their current conversation must be wonderful, yet gut-wrenching.
Brooke was still teasing Roxie about her starry-eyed mooning, and Rachel had to smile along as well. It seemed that, as Brooke had said, a few Quinn cousins had found love that year. She swallowed thickly. Was Andrew among them? The fact he hadn’t tried to kiss her again—
“You’re doing it again, Rachel,” Brooke said. “Looking worried. And just when we’d gotten you to relax!”
Roxie giggled again. “She misses her honey!”
Honey? Rachel resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing how much Andrew would hate the ‘sobriquet.’ However…
“You’re right, I do miss him,” she admitted.
“Well, lucky for you, he’s coming back!” Roxie pointed with her chin, then grabbed Brooke by the arm. “Come on, let’s leave them be!”
Rachel didn’t have time to turn before she felt Andrew’s arms wrap around her middle, and he buried his face in her hair. She loved the way he inhaled deeply, as if her scent was some kind of balm. Heaven knew she felt the same way about him.
“Hi, you,” she said in a low voice, not wanting anyone to overhear. “How are you doing?”
“Better now, I think.” His voice was still muffled.
“Because you spoke with your grandfather?”
“Yeah.” He huffed slightly, then straightened. “And because I’m with you.”
Gently, he turned her in his arms until she was faci
ng him. His expression was serious, and a little alarming, as he looked down at her. “Can I steal you away?”
She made a show of looking around. They were surrounded by Quinn women, hustling back and forth with platters of food and cups and plates. “No one’s given me any chores to do, and I’m here for you.” She smiled softly. “Steal away.”
Before she had time to blink, he’d grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway. She found herself pressed against a wall of paneled wood, with the big, warm, comforting mass of him before her. He braced his hands on the wall on either side of her head and, at a loss for what she was supposed to do with her hands, Rachel rested them on his hips.
“I had a nice talk with Gramps,” Andrew murmured, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers. “Set some things straight, got some advice about the future.”
“Oh?” Rachel decided she’d say just about anything to keep him right where he was. “What’s that?”
“He told me if there’s a woman who’s captured my heart, a woman who’s helped me become a better man, a woman I want to hold in my heart forever…I needed to come out here and tell her so.”
Rachel’s eyes widened at the word “forever,” and her breath caught as she realized what he was saying. “You think— You want to hold me—” Suddenly, it was impossible to finish her thoughts. “Blargh?”
Slowly, his grin grew inside his beard until she could see his single dimple.
“You’re a dork.”
You’re a dork. Her heart plummeted.
But…?
“You’re adorkable.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss along her right cheekbone. “It’s one of the things I love about you.” He placed a gentle kiss over her left eyebrow. “You’re kind and fierce when you’re protecting someone you care about. That’s another thing I love about you.”
“Even Bob?” she managed to choke out.
“Even Bob.” He twisted slightly to kiss her left jaw. “I love that you’re full of good intentions, and you do everything in your power to make them a reality. I love that you care about my family. I love that you don’t mind I only listen to podcasts instead of reading, and you listen when I talk about them. I love that you don’t think it’s gross I chew gum all the time. I love that you understand I’m going to try to fix problems by hitting them with hammers or sawing them apart with blades. I love that you get me.”