And he was forgetting already why a burned-out barn had mattered more than Sadie next to him.
“What?” Connor asked.
“You are my older brother. You’re a grown man.”
“I never asked you to take care of me,” Connor said.
“You expect it,” Eli bit out.
Connor shook his head. “Look, man, I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but I’ve never asked you for anything. I’m glad you’re here, I won’t lie, but if you weren’t? I would be happy to just stay drunk and live in filth. You’re the one who—”
“And it’s things like that, Connor, that mean I can’t leave you to it. Because you don’t think I know you’d sink in it? I do, and I won’t let it happen.”
“And so what, Eli? I’m supposed to get myself together the way you see fit so you don’t have to deal?”
“Yeah,” Eli said. “Yeah. Just...could you? Because I can’t work a job, and work on the ranch, and run for sheriff, and file your insurance claim and not lose my fucking mind. I can’t... I can’t do it all.”
That was the first time he’d ever admitted that. To himself. To anyone else. That he couldn’t shoulder everything. That he didn’t even want to.
“I didn’t know, Eli,” Connor said, looking straight ahead. “I’ve had a hard time caring about anything other than myself. For the record, I mostly still don’t care about anything else, but... I’m damn sorry you felt that way.”
“It wasn’t ever just you,” Eli said. “But you know you’ve added to it.”
“Well,” Connor drawled. “I do what I can.”
“You make me feel like a dick for complaining since you’ve been through hell.”
“Yeah. Still in it most days,” he mumbled. “But I guess I don’t have to bring you with me.”
“Sometimes I think I brought myself on purpose.”
“Well, stop,” Connor said.
“What?”
“Stop. Being unhappy is stupid. If there’s any way you can fix it? Fix it. I can’t bring my wife back. I can’t...fix anything that happened. I can’t make my life better just by making a different choice.”
“I’m not sure I can, either,” Eli said.
“Does it have to do with Sadie?”
Eli breathed in deep. “Yeah.”
“She’s not dead, is she?”
“No,” Eli said, his voice rough.
“Then there’s still hope.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SADIE FINISHED PILING her personal belongings into the car. She was violating her lease agreement and she knew it. It sucked, but she just... She couldn’t stay. She didn’t know much about what would happen next, but she knew that much.
She sighed and put Toby’s cat carrier in the backseat, safely on the floorboards, before shutting the back door.
She heard a car driving up the driveway and swore copiously under her breath. She didn’t want to deal with a crestfallen Kate, a pissed-off Connor or...worse than them all, an Eli, in whatever form he chose to present.
But instead of a Garrett vehicle, it was a shiny black car making its way down the driveway.
“Lydia,” she grumbled, leaning against her car and looking down. Oh, well, the other woman could give her a send-off. Hell, she’d probably be thrilled to do it.
Lydia stopped her car and got out, a stack of brochures in her hand and a frown crossing her fine features. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“I’m heading out,” Sadie said. “It’s...kind of what I do. Don’t be alarmed.”
“Too late,” Lydia said. “I am. Eli didn’t tell you to—”
“Oh, no, he’s too much of a gentleman for that.” Not too much of one to break her heart and say she wasn’t important, but he’d never ask her to violate a lease agreement. That shit was legally binding.
“Does he know you’re leaving?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t tell him. Though it’s really more relevant to Connor since he’s the one who sort of headed up the lease thingy...”
“Oh, what a bunch of baloney,” Lydia said. “It is not more relevant to Connor than it is to Eli if you go. And I think you know it.”
She averted her eyes. “Do you know it?”
Lydia sighed. “I’m not stupid. Possibly a little bit...mmm...too hopeful? But yeah, not stupid. I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”
Sadie cleared her throat. “But have you heard the way we talk to each other? Because that might be a better indicator of where we’re at.”
“Do you love him?” she asked.
Sadie’s heart squeezed tight. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters. Eli Garrett is the best man I know. The best man I’ve ever known. And you know, I realized he’s not that into me. Sure, it’s sort of been a die-hard crush, even with that in mind, but pretty much the minute you showed up I knew I was screwed.” She smiled, the expression tinged with sadness. “Not in a fun way, either. But ultimately, I know I won’t be happy with a guy I have to coerce into a relationship. And I have a sneaking suspicion he won’t be happy without you.”
Sadie laughed. “Tell him that. He told me he didn’t want me.”
“He’s lying,” she said. “You realize that, right?”
“I don’t think Eli knows how to lie.”
“Well, maybe not on purpose. But he’s lying even if he doesn’t know he is. One benefit of watching someone more closely than you should, you get to know them. The way he looks at you? That’s special. If I were you? I wouldn’t walk away from that. I’d fight for it. And I’ll be honest, Sadie, I took you for kind of a badass, so...if you run now, I’m going to have to retract that.”
“I’m not a badass,” Sadie said. “I’m basically whatever is the opposite of that. And I’ve never pretended to be much more. I’m a runner. And it’s my cue to go.”
“That sucks, because I think if you stayed, and if we weren’t competing for the same guy, we could be friends. And I think if you stayed, and you married him, eventually, we would be friends. You know, after I got over my seething jealousy.”
“You don’t seem to be seething all that much,” Sadie said.
“It’s a quiet seethe. Like I said, I know he’s not mine.” She smiled a little more genuinely now. “Kind of bummed I never got to...”
Sadie coughed. “Yeah...that’s kind of... He’s good at the sex.”
Lydia cleared her throat, her cheeks turning pink. “I was going to say kiss him. But sure.”
Sadie winced. “Well, he’s good at that, too.”
“I can’t decide if it sucks to know that or if it’s gratifying to realize my fantasies were on track.”
“It sucks to know. Because I know it sucks that I know. Because it’s over. And I wish it weren’t.”
“So fight for it, badass,” Lydia said. “Fight for him.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to fight for.”
“Well, then, maybe you should go. Because I happen to think he deserves someone who will fight. I thought that might be you.”
“Maybe you should fight for him,” Sadie said, feeling mean, small and not at all in the mood to watch another woman fight for the man she loved. But not brave enough to go and get him herself.
Lydia looked at her sadly. “It was nice to meet you, Sadie. I hope you find whatever you’re looking for. And I really hope that you don’t realize it was here when it’s too late for you to come back.”
Sadie watched Lydia toss the brochures on her passenger seat and drive away and felt a whole hot ball of rage grow in her chest. Who was Lydia to tell her what she should do? Seriously. She hadn’t been there. She hadn’t heard the way Eli talked to her. What he’d said.
Lydia probably had no idea what it was like to be certain that the only way attachment could end was rejection.
And hell, he’d rejected her. Why subject herself to it twice?
Because for the first time, you felt complete. Because for the first time you want
to stay. Really, really.
Well, it didn’t really matter. Because he’d pushed her away.
You’re just too pathetic to fight for him. Too afraid.
Yeah, well, because what if she was wrong? Sure, maybe Eli was as afraid as she was. Maybe that was half of why he’d pushed her away. Maybe.
She jerked the backseat door open and pulled out the pet carrier, depositing it on the porch, checking to make sure Toby’s food, water and litter weren’t disturbed.
Then she looked out into the forest.
The place she’d always gone to escape, before she’d run for real.
She took a deep breath of the pine and salt air. And then she ran.
* * *
THE WAY ELI saw it, he had two options. The Connor option—really, the Garrett option—that meant drinking until you couldn’t remember why you were sad.
Or the handle-your-shit option, which was a lot harder.
He stared at the bottle of Jack on the counter and placed his palms flat on the marble surface, looking at the bottle. As if it might tell him what to do.
“Drink it and it might,” he said.
Then he shoved off from the counter and started pacing the room. What was he doing? He felt like hell. Or something worse than hell, whatever that was.
But he had order. He didn’t have a blonde whirlwind with a strange emotional connection to a cat. He didn’t have distractions. He had what he’d spent a lifetime cultivating.
“Loneliness,” he said to the empty room. “You have loneliness. Give the man a prize.”
And it was all he ever had to look forward to. An orderly life and an empty bed. All because he was too afraid to let someone in.
All because it was so much easier to keep everyone out and to never lose anyone or anything again. All because it was easier to blame himself so he could pretend he had some control in the universe when the simple fact was he didn’t have control over any of it.
Mothers left. People died. Barns burned. And no amount of diligence on his part would ever stop it.
He slammed his fist down onto the counter and swore as pain shot up his arm, straight through to his heart.
What a terrible realization. And too late. Dammit, if he was going to have to deal with the fact that he had no control over his life, over anything, the least he could have done was grasped the concept before he’d lost her.
Sadie...
He looked at the spotless counter, where she’d once put her damned tennis shoes. Who did shit like that? And even though the shoes were gone, and there was not a speck of dust from the tread left behind, the memory lingered so strongly there might as well have been a muddy footprint there.
It would have been easier to erase.
He turned away from the counter and looked out the front window, and his heart about burst. Her azalea. Her apology azalea with its pink flowers. Another Sadie invasion that had been obnoxious at first, but that he couldn’t imagine life without now.
She was everywhere in his house. At the counter, drinking a beer. In his bed. His shower. His yard. His heart.
Dammit, she was in his heart.
He loved her.
The realization sent warmth blooming through him. Like a burst blood vessel around his heart, flooding his chest and making him feel weak.
He loved her.
He hadn’t loved anyone but Kate and Connor in...ever. Hadn’t wanted to because he’d been so busy trying to hold the world together. Trying to make sense of things that just didn’t make sense.
Trying to keep his family from falling apart, so that no one else would leave. So that he would matter.
But Sadie had always acted like he mattered, even when he was screwing things up. Sadie had held him, stripped him of his inhibitions in a way nothing and no one else ever had, accepted him when he confessed his shortcomings. Sadie, who had shared herself with him when she hadn’t shared with anyone else.
An offering of herself, but also a demonstration of the trust she put in him.
And he had turned her away to keep wandering through life, holding on with an iron fist, trying desperately to earn the trust of strangers. To be seen as good enough.
When she’d already seen him that way.
“Probably not now, asshole,” he said into the empty room.
No, probably not now.
And he couldn’t blame her.
But he had to ask. He had to try. He had to beg forgiveness.
He had to tell her he loved her.
And damn the consequences.
Order meant nothing without her, control meant nothing without her. And the only acceptance that mattered was hers.
He shoved the Jack Daniel’s bottle back into its place in the cupboard and walked out of his house. He strode toward the B and B, his heart in his throat, his hands honest-to-God shaking. Everything in him was shaking.
He’d never loved anyone. And he’d never asked anyone to love him back.
He’d tried to earn it, every day. But he’d never asked.
Today he had to ask.
He walked across the driveway and into the clearing in front of her house, and saw her car, the back door open, suitcases inside.
“What the hell?”
Just then, Sadie came down the stairs, a couple of pine needles stuck in her hair, tears on her cheeks, her face pale. Her eyes widened and she froze, staring at him like he was some kind of ghost. He walked toward her.
She was packed. She was leaving.
She was leaving him.
Hell no.
He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her to him, his lips crashing down on hers. He tried to make her feel what he did. To understand what he’d just started to understand. That he loved her. That she’d changed him.
She clung to him, grabbing his T-shirt and holding it tight, holding him tight.
When they parted, they were both breathing hard, and her cheeks were wet, tears tracking down her pale skin.
“Don’t leave me,” he said, his tone a command. “Don’t go.”
“Eli...”
“I am an idiot. You are distracting. And you did change things. But dammit, Sadie, I want to be distracted by you. I want to be changed by you. Hell, baby, I need it. And I was just about to drink a whole bottle of liquor to try to forget how much of an ass I am. But then I saw my counter.”
“Your counter?”
“It’s clean. Your shoes aren’t sitting on it. Everything’s in order. Everything. You’re not there saying some...sexual innuendo I barely understand, and you know what? I hate it. I hate the order if it means I can’t have you. I love you, Sadie.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Then why are you packed?”
“Because. Because I was going to leave but I went and did some thinking. And now I’m not,” she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“You know...it’s hard to say. Because leaving is what I do. And even when I knew I would miss you like hell it seemed easier than this. Easier than standing in front of you and telling you I want more. But I’m going to do it anyway. I went back to my clearing. It was where I used to go when things got to be too much. When I needed to escape. But I didn’t find oblivion there. I found you instead. And whatever power there was in escape, whatever I used to enjoy about it...it was gone. I don’t want to run anymore. I want to stand and fight. I want to stay. I want more. Because I want you. I want everything. Good and bad and stick up your ass. I love you and I want to fight for that love like I’ve never fought for anything.”
He felt like he’d been punched in the chest. It was one thing to confess his love to her, but he didn’t think for a damn minute he deserved to have it returned. Not after the things he’d said to her.
“How can you love me?” he asked. “I failed you.”
“That’s the thing, though, Eli, you didn’t. I wished that someone would have stepped in and saved me. Of course I did. And I think
...it was easy to wish it had been you. But what I really needed was to save myself.”
“You did, Sadie,” he said, his chest tightening. “You left.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not when I saved myself. That’s when I learned to run. Which is the first step sometimes. But I realized something today, when I was ready to leave this place, to leave you. I realized it’s not enough to have a life. You have to have all of life. And I haven’t let myself do that.”
“Sadie...” His throat closed up. “I haven’t, either. I wanted to believe that I could control things. That somehow I could stop bad things from happening. But the problem with that is that... I can’t. I thought if I could, if I got things in order... But it’s not in my power. And admitting that is one of the scariest damn things I can think of because control is everything to me. Being the one taking care of things is everything to me. So that...” He felt like an ass even thinking this, much less admitting it. But it was time to say it. And it was time to let it go. “People leave me, Sadie. I thought someday I’d make myself so important it wouldn’t happen again.”
“Well—” Sadie wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled “—Eli Garrett, future sheriff of Copper Ridge, you have made yourself so important to me that this woman, who always has her running shoes on hand, can’t leave you.”
* * *
SADIE LOOKED UP at Eli, at the deep concern in his dark eyes, at the sincerity. And the insecurity. And any remaining walls around her heart crumbled completely.
She threw her arms around his neck and held him close, stroking her fingers through his hair. “You’re the best reason in the world to stop running. And you don’t have to work to get me to stay. I’m offering to. Because you’re the best man there is. And anyone who made you feel like less deserves to be dragged behind a horse.”
“I love you, Sadie. More than a clean house, more than stability. If you kept running, I’d run after you. Even if I had to leave all this behind. Because it doesn’t mean a thing without you. And I’m sorry. Sorry for all the crap I said to you. Everything I put us through. I couldn’t run, so I guess the best I could do was try to make you run. Because you scare the hell out of me, woman. But I’m even more scared of living without you.”
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