by Liz Isaacson
“So, Landon, what did you think of the sermon today?” His father set the mashed potatoes on the table and folded himself onto a bench.
Megan snorted to cover the laugh threatening to escape and blinked at Landon.
“It was fine,” Landon said. “What about you, Megan?”
Miraculously, his father didn’t question him further. Maybe Landon had always gotten away with saying things were “fine” and the conversation moved on. Megan tried to watch him out of the corner of her eye, a sudden gnawing in her gut she didn’t like.
Would he cover their hard conversations with “It’s fine,” or “I feel fine.”? She wanted more than that. She deserved more than that, especially after the non-relationship she’d endured with Eric. Eric, who she hadn’t really known at all. And if Landon said things were fine when they weren’t, she wouldn’t be able to get to know him either.
Even though the summer sun shone, and a brisk breeze kept them cool, and the food was so delicious Megan actually wished she could cook, her spirits had been dampened by Landon’s “fine.”
She made it through the meal, never letting on that anything was wrong. As she said good-bye to his parents and settled by his side in the truck, she wondered if she’d just done the same thing. After all, she’d pretended everything was fine when it wasn’t.
14
“I don’t want to go home,” Megan said. “Can we…I don’t know. Go for a walk or something?”
Landon eased up on the accelerator. “Can’t be too hard,” he said. “What with your heels and all.”
“Maybe just around the park.”
He put on his blinker and pulled into the parking lot. “Your wish is my command.”
“Landon.”
He must have sensed or heard something in her voice, because he trained his full attention on her. She squirmed under the weight of it, but she couldn’t look away.
“What’s wrong?” He put two fingers under her chin when she tried to duck away from his penetrating green eyes.
“I’m trying to figure out when you’ve told me things were fine when they weren’t.”
He frowned. “I haven’t done that.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you think I had?”
“You told your dad the sermon was fine when you didn’t hear a word of it.”
“I’m sure it was fine.”
“I don’t want fine.” Megan drew herself up, the realization striking like lightning. “I had fine, and I—I—” Her voice broke. Numbness spread through her, and she felt wobbly inside and out. “I want more than fine.”
He took her face in both his hands, his eyes kind and though he was strong and tough, he handled her with such gentleness. “I am not Eric.” He touched his lips to her forehead. “Tell me what you need.” He skated his mouth down the side of her face, causing a ripple to cascade through her. Safety and warmth flowed through her. If she could trust herself, she’d say love poured through her. “And I will give it to you,” Landon finished, his voice husky and hushed.
“Just you,” she whispered against his lips. “I just need you.” And though Megan couldn’t exactly pinpoint how she felt about Landon, or if she’d unconsciously projected some of her issues with Eric onto him, she kissed him. Kissed him like she was falling in love with him.
Megan stuffed her debit card and driver’s license in her back shorts pocket and hurried out of her apartment. After Landon had come in and they’d somehow cobbled together homemade ice cream, she’d puttered around the house, waiting for sleep to claim her.
She’d studied. Cleaned. Thrown out the sourdough starter she’d been planning to use for the cooking class at the church. Made a list of who she needed to call the next day. Painted her toenails.
By the time she woke in the morning, she had a text from Belle, inviting her to lunch. She’d answered it with a Yes! What time? before she realized it was practically lunchtime already.
Thankfully, Belle was already in town, and she’d given Megan fifteen minutes to get over to the deli. The scent of fresh bread hit Megan half a block away, and she increased her pace. She’d always been motivated by carbs, and a lunch with her best friend—who happened to be her boyfriend’s sister—would definitely need a lot of bread and butter.
She entered the deli and found Belle waiting just inside the door. She stood and drew Megan into a hug. “Hey.” She held her by the shoulders and stepped back. “You look great.” A knowing smile touched her lips. “No wonder my brother is smitten by you.”
Megan scoffed. “He’s not smitten,” she said, though some small part of her hoped he was. “And you’re looking good. How are you feeling?” She moved toward the ordering line, her thoughts jumping to if she should get a double-fudge brownie or a German chocolate one.
“I’m halfway through the second trimester,” Belle said. “So I’m feeling a lot better than I was a couple of months ago.”
“When do you find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“In a couple of weeks.” Belle practically glowed, her smile lighting the entire place. The happiness of it infused Megan, and she longed to be that happy. She thought she had been, once. But what she’d believed to be true and what turned out to actually be fact had been two very different things.
Her familiar friend, fear, crept into her mind. Was she doing the same thing with Landon? Everything with him had been easy—maybe too easy. She sighed before turning to order the biggest chef salad on the menu.
“And a German chocolate brownie,” she added. She could have a treat if she ate lettuce for lunch. She and Belle went through the line and settled into a booth in the corner, making idle chit chat about life, the church, the ranch, and Belle’s pregnancy.
Soon enough though, Belle put an end to the small talk. “So, Landon said he might not be buying a place now.”
“Oh?” Megan’s eyebrows shot up, and she tried to cover her surprise by taking a big bite of cucumber and ranch.
“Yeah, he stopped by to grab Jace before he went up to the higher fields. I heard him tell Jace he wasn’t sure he should buy a ranch of his own. Said he couldn’t find anything he really liked.”
“He’s only looked at two places,” Megan said. “And he did really like the first one. It was just too expensive.”
“Do you want him to buy a ranch?”
“No.” Megan blinked and attempted to think through the situation. “I mean, yes. I mean…I want him to be happy.”
Belle peered at her, her green eyes as intense as her brother’s. “What if he moves?”
“We haven’t talked about it.”
“I’m asking you,” Belle said. “What will you do if he buys a horse ranch in Utah or Nevada and moves away?”
Everything inside Megan recoiled at the very thought. “I…don’t know.” She wished Belle would look somewhere else, but her best friend didn’t usually back down from anything or anyone.
“What’s keeping you here?” Belle asked, finally turning her attention to her wiser dessert choice—a fruit tart.
“My father. The church….”
“He’s going to retire in a few months, right?”
“Right.”
“And he’s still relatively healthy.”
“His hip just bothers him in the winter.”
Belle nodded, her expression turning innocent. Megan had seen this tactic before. “So you could go with Landon.”
Megan almost choked. “I wouldn’t go with him. Not if we were just dating. If we were engaged—” She gasped the word out. She lifted one shoulder like they were discussing whether or not they’d have a winning football team this year. “Then I’d go.”
“So you’d need to be engaged to go with him.”
“I didn’t say that. We’ve been dating for a few weeks.”
“More than a few.”
“Several. It hasn’t even been two months.” Megan had only been back in town for two and a half months, and Landon didn’t come along until the beginning of the s
ummer. “Six weeks,” she said. “He’s not going to fall in love with me and ask me to marry him in six weeks.”
Belle plucked the strawberry off her tart and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes were wide and innocent as she licked her fingers and said, “You never know.”
Landon wasn’t sure why everything anyone said or did made annoyance burn through him. He’d brought a crew to the church on Monday morning to get the weak and damaged area of the balcony demolished, but he couldn’t stand their conversation, their endless questions.
He’d expected to see Megan at some point. Sure, she liked to sleep in, especially when she was up late. And she had been, because she’d sent him a text at two-forty-seven that morning.
But she hadn’t shown up yet, and lunchtime was almost over. He sat against the trunk of a tree on the far side of the church where no one could see him. He knew himself well enough to get away from people when he got in a foul mood.
Distantly, he heard someone say his name. He ignored them and tried to reposition himself so his wide shoulders didn’t poke out the sides of the tree trunk. Didn’t work. Whoever was looking for him came closer, their footsteps strong and sure.
Landon turned when he realized Jace had come into town. Alarm raced through him as he stood and dusted off his jeans. “What’s goin’ on? What are you doin’ here?” Landon glanced over his shoulder, like the reason for Jace’s visit would be standing there.
“Belle wanted me to come baby furniture shopping with her.” Jace didn’t roll his eyes, but his tone conveyed his desire to do so. “Don’t know why. It’s not like my opinion matters.”
Landon laughed. “Belle has her eye on somethin’.”
“Yeah, a changing table that costs six hundred dollars,” Jace grumbled. “I don’t even know why a baby needs a changing table. Why can’t we just lay him on the floor to change his diaper?”
Landon shrugged. “Don’t ask me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So it’s a boy?”
Jace shook his head. “Don’t know yet.” He gestured back the way he’d come. “Carlos said I’d find you over here. Just thought I’d hang out while Belle’s at lunch.”
“Why didn’t you go to lunch with her?”
“She wanted to meet a friend.”
Sirens and bells went off in Landon’s head. “Who?”
Jace’s boots scraped the cement as he shuffled them. He swiped his hat off his head and wiped his hand down his face, tugging on the end of his beard, which he only did when he was nervous. Landon had witnessed the habit enough to know.
“Megan, right? I mean, it’s not like my sister has a lot of friends in town.”
“Of course she does,” Jace said.
“But it’s Megan, right?”
“I didn’t really ask.”
Landon tipped his head back and gazed into the blue sky. “What’re they talkin’ about?”
“I imagine they’ll talk about you. Belle loves a good love story.”
Landon inhaled, but air seemed to be the wrong thing to breathe and he choked. “Love story?”
“Yeah.” Jace folded his arms and settled his weight away from Landon. “I mean, you’re holding her hand and kissin’ her. What do you call that?”
“Dating.” Landon’s mood darkened by several shades. “And it’s still brand new at that. I’m not in love with her.”
“Of course you aren’t.” Jace snorted like Landon being in love was the stupidest thing ever.
Fear seized Landon’s muscles. “Jace, do you…do you think I could love her?”
“Of course you could.” He cocked his head as if that would help him see Landon clearer. “Why couldn’t you? She’s pretty, she’s kind, she’s fun to be with. Right? You like being with her? Talking and…whatever?”
“Yeah.” Landon’s voice sounded so wispy. “I like being with her. I just…I loved Lauren too, and that was a fiasco.”
“I thought you were over Lauren.”
“I am,” Landon said firmly. “But maybe I don’t know how to—I don’t know.” He exhaled and his eyes flitted everywhere but at Jace. “Maybe I don’t know how to love someone the right way.”
Jace chuckled. “There is no ‘right way’ to love someone. I mean, look at me and Belle. No one would ever put us together. We argue constantly. She riles me up. I make her see red. But we love each other in our own special way.”
“You didn’t get there easily, though.” A flash of horror hit him. “Maybe this is too easy. That’s why it doesn’t feel right.”
Jace started laughing, and the sound grated against Landon’s nerves. “What? What’s so funny?” He rolled his eyes as Jace continued chuckling. Finally he sobered.
“Look, Landon. Falling in love is the easy part. That’s good if it’s easy. But.” His eyes sparked. “If something doesn’t feel right, you can’t ignore that.” He took a step closer, and Landon felt smothered by it, though plenty of space existed between them.
“So what doesn’t feel right?” Jace asked.
Landon sighed, his frustration skyrocketing. “I don’t know.” An idea occurred to him. “Maybe because she’s so…good, and I’m just, you know, starting back to church.”
“You’ve been going for two years, Landon.”
“Yeah.” He exhaled again, the weight of the world seemingly pressing down on his shoulders. “She’s still the preacher’s daughter.”
“You think she judges you?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Well, you should probably figure it out before you, you know, go falling in love.” He said the last part of his sentence over his shoulder as he walked away. Landon watched him round the church, everything inside him jumbled.
His mind spun from one side of the spectrum to the other. Was he falling in love with Megan?
Yes, his mind whispered.
Why did that terrify him to the very core?
Because of Lauren.
Why did he feel like something was wrong? Was it him? Megan? Them together? Something else?
As if the heavens had opened and lightning had struck his mind, he knew. “The horse ranch.” He’d been frustrated that Island Park hadn’t panned out, but he still had a bad feeling about that place. He wasn’t supposed to be there.
“But Horseshoe Home isn’t where you’re supposed to be either.” He kicked at the ground, more annoyed and frustrated than ever. He strode toward the church, his anger a scent on the air. Carlos even lifted his head long before he should’ve been able to hear Landon coming.
“I’m done for today,” Landon barked in his direction. “Can you bring your guys back tomorrow?”
“Done?” Carlos called.
“I—” Landon nodded. “If you can’t get your crew together again tomorrow, I understand. I’ll call you later.” He practically sprinted to his truck and he wanted to peel out of the parking lot. But he showed some restraint by only gunning the engine once he was on the road and headed for the canyon.
When he should’ve turned right to go up to Horseshoe Home, he kept going straight. He didn’t want to face Jace, because his friend was right. He needed to get things figured out before he continued down the current road he was on. It wouldn’t be fair to Megan if he didn’t.
He slapped the steering wheel and pressed on the accelerator. He’d escaped to Bear Mountain when he’d learned about Lauren. He always made sure the cabin was well-stocked before he left each time. He’d have enough to get through the next couple of days, until he could clear his head and make an informed decision.
When he turned onto Tibble Fork Road, he wouldn’t have cell service. So he pulled over at the intersection and called Megan. Sure, he needed time to get his thoughts together, but that didn’t mean she should be ignored.
The call went to her voicemail, and he assumed she was still lunching with Belle, talking about him. Annoyance reared once more.
He took a steeling breath to tame his voice into something placid before he spoke. “Hey, Megan, I
won’t be back to the church for a few days. I just—” He paused, his emotions starting to bleed into his voice. “I’m headed up to my cabin on Bear Mountain. I just need some time alone to get my head on straight. I’ll call you when I get back, probably on Thursday.” He wasn’t sure how to end the call. “I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me.” He pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it, hoping a proper salutation would appear on the screen. It didn’t.
“Okay, talk to you soon.” He said before thumbing off the call. He called Carlos and rescheduled to work on the church the following week. And then he dialed Jace, expecting another emotionally exhausting conversation.
Instead, Jace said, “Be safe. Work things out. We’ll manage without your help on the morning chores,” and hung up. With all his loose ends tied up, Landon faced Tibble Fork Road, took a deep breath, and started up the mountain.
15
Landon’s frustrations, worries, and bad mood lifted as soon as he pulled up to the remote cabin. A sense of peace existed here he couldn’t find anywhere else. A feeling he’d been trying to find in Utah.
“Because you can’t live in a two-room cabin on the top of a mountain,” he muttered to himself. But the truth was, he could. He didn’t need to work, he just liked the feel of calluses on his hands, the smell of horses, the tired ache in his muscles that testified that he’d put in a good, honest day’s work.
Sure, there was plenty of work to do around the cabin. He could wash windows, repair the front steps, clear the land in the back and plant a garden. Build a paddock and keep horses. Erect a barn and raise cows and pigs and chickens. If he got all that going, he probably wouldn’t even have to go down the mountain for groceries.
The thought was as attractive as it was horrifying. He twisted the knob and entered the cabin. He didn’t keep the door locked, though he often thought he should. The interior looked the same as it had the last time he was here, if not a little dustier.