She pulled her throw blanket up to her chin and watched the snowflakes falling underneath the streetlamp. Nobody had driven down her street in about twenty minutes, and the tire tracks were beginning to disappear. The drifts were getting thicker and fluffier, and she smiled, remembering the winter rituals she’d shared with Jemma as kids.
They’d had a dog when they were little. Greta. She loved the snow. She used to run around in circles snapping it up in her little jaws, making Jemma and Justine peel with laughter. Those had been good days. Simpler days. As a little girl, she never would have imagined that only a few years later, her father would leave, and her mother would change from a happy, carefree person, to someone whose anger and bitterness would eventually be passed on to her daughters.
Justine wrapped a curl absentmindedly around her finger. Things had ended badly for her family, but when it had been good, it had been really good. She missed those days. She missed walking to school with Jemma, her small hand tucked inside Justine’s. She missed coming home to warm peanut butter cookies, and her mom’s faded red apron tied snugly around her waist. She missed Greta, and how she’d sleep in Justine’s lap when they watched TV. She missed all of it.
She sighed, wondering why she’d never gotten around to getting a dog when she’d moved out. She’d planned on it, but then one thing would lead to another, and it never seemed like the right time. She’d always wanted another dog, though. She chewed the inside of her cheek. Technically, she could have one now. She could go to the shelter tomorrow, if she wanted, and bring one home.
She imagined the look on Cat’s face if she were to walk through the door with a dog. But then she remembered there was no way she could have a pet. Of course. You’re leaving, remember?
At the thought, there was no denying the stab of pain in her heart. It made her so sad. But she had to figure out why it made her sad. Was it because she didn’t want to leave Porter? Sure. That was a big part of it, of course. But what about leaving Cat? She and Nola had talked a lot tonight about how much Cat loved it here. How hard it would be for him to move back to Missoula. He missed Nola fiercely, but he was a ranching kid at heart, it was obvious now. And what were they going to do about that? Nola had said she would try and find a good place for him to take lessons near her place, but Justine could tell the thought of taking him away from Diamond in the Rough unsettled her. Justine could relate.
She shifted on the couch, feeling restless. The livestock auction was only a few days away now. Not only was Cat having to face leaving the ranch, but he was also facing the uncertainty of seeing his dad again. She couldn’t help but picture the grief on Porter’s face after his mother had stood him up. She’d wanted to wrap her arms around him, to fix it somehow. But it was something he’d had to bear. She could hardly stand the thought of the same thing happening to Cat.
A sudden lump formed in her throat. Somewhere along the line, she’d managed to let herself fall in love, get attached to a tween boy, and catch glimpses of a future inside a little town that she hadn’t expected to adore so much. This wasn’t how it was supposed to have gone. She was supposed to be planning her move, getting ready for her new job, her big adventure.
Instead, she found herself crying for the second time that night. She was so confused, she didn’t know which way was up. But one thing was becoming more and more clear… If she decided to stay in Marietta, it had to be for the right reasons. Not because she was afraid of the pain that leaving would bring.
Nola was right—she had to figure out what was going to make her happy.
And then grab onto it with both hands.
Chapter Sixteen
Porter stood in line at The Melt, the little grilled cheese café that Griffin’s girlfriend, Rae Woods, owned and operated. He’d come into town to grab a few things at Marietta Western Wear and had been hungry, so he’d swung by on the way back to the ranch. Some toasted cheese had sounded pretty damn good, and Rae was the queen of toasted cheese.
The snow was still coming down, had been since last night. The café was crowded, and he kept his hands in his pockets and his arms close to his body as people squeezed by to pick up their to-go orders. The entire place smelled like french fries and bread, and his stomach growled.
Behind him, the door opened with the tinkle of a bell, and a gust of cold air brushed the back of his neck.
“Next!”
The line moved up and he moved with it, lost in thought.
“Porter?”
He turned. Standing there looking like an angel in an ivory cardigan and matching beret, was Justine. She smiled wide, her shoulders dusted with snow.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I’m not used to seeing you in town.”
He looked down at her, taking her in, wanting more than anything to lean down and kiss her. But she wasn’t his girlfriend. She wasn’t even someone he was pursuing anymore, because they’d decided against it. Someone had forgotten to tell his heart, which thumped painfully at the sight of her.
“Grilled cheeses,” he said, his voice rough. “My favorite childhood meal. Did I ever tell you that?”
She shook her head.
“There was a time when it was all my brothers and I would eat,” he continued. “Made traveling extra fun. My dad had to plan all our pitstops ahead to make sure there was a grilled cheese on the menu.”
She laughed. “Well, it didn’t affect you growing up nice and strong. Maybe more little boys need to be picky eaters.”
“Wish you’d been around to tell my mother that. It drove her batshit crazy.” At the thought of his mom, he looked down at his boots for a second. He was still grappling with where she fit into his life now, into his childhood memories. It was getting harder and harder to make room for her there.
Justine ran her tongue over her lips, and they glistened underneath the café lighting. His throat suddenly felt very dry. This woman had been in his arms just a few short weeks ago. He’d been kissing those lips by a warm fire and reveling in the feel of her body pressed against his. Now, they were making small talk. It didn’t feel right. In fact, everything about it felt wrong.
She glanced out the frosty window. There were people making their way down the sidewalk in boots and mittens, some of them holding steaming drinks and shopping bags. Thanksgiving was right around the corner. Soon, the ranch would be decked out in her finest Christmas attire, sparkling lights and fresh evergreen wreaths in every window. He wondered what Justine’s plans were for Thanksgiving. If maybe she and Cat, her dad and sister, would want to spend it at Diamond in the Rough with him and his family.
She smiled wistfully, as if seeing something far away, then looked back, her eyes bright. “Don’t you love the snow? It’s just magical.”
He nodded. He knew exactly what she meant—most locals would. Winter in Marietta was special.
“Next!”
The line moved up, but he and Justine didn’t move with it. Instead, they stepped out of the way at the same time. He wasn’t in the mood to rush this, and it looked like she wasn’t either.
“I’ve missed you,” she said quietly.
“I’ve missed you, too. Next time you bring Cat out, you should stay for coffee.”
“I’d love that. But that’s how this whole thing started, remember? I don’t think we can be trusted with coffee.”
“Truthfully, I don’t think we can be trusted with seeing each other at a sandwich shop, either. If how I feel is any indication.”
She laughed. “What are we going to do about that? Seems like a problem.”
“Depends on how you look at it. I can think of plenty of things to fix it.”
“Yeah?”
“Sadly, none of them involve clothes.”
She flushed as a woman in line looked over at that.
“You’re terrible,” she whispered.
They were quiet for a minute, as the front door opened and a red-cheeked couple walked through, rubbing their hands together.
“
So…” Justine said. “The livestock auction is this weekend.”
He nodded. He’d been thinking about it nonstop. Running through all the scenarios in his head and trying to prepare for them.
“Cat’s so excited,” she continued. “Do you still think Calvin will be there?”
“I think it’s a good possibility.”
“You know, Nola and I talked about this during her visit.”
He watched her. She’d brought Nola along when she’d picked up Cat the other day, and he’d gotten to meet her. She was one of those people that you felt like you’d known forever. A very sweet, very special lady. And he’d been able to see Cat in her instantly. His spunk obviously ran in the family.
“How is she feeling about it?” he asked, hoping on some strange level, that maybe she’d changed her mind, and wouldn’t want Cat to go. But knowing that probably wasn’t the case. It made sense that Cat should be able to choose for himself. No matter how complicated the decision was.
“She’s anxious. But she knows it’s the right thing.”
Porter nodded.
“But we also talked about his future,” she continued. “With or without Calvin wanting to be a part of it.”
“His future…”
“The fact that when I leave, he’ll be going back to Missoula. And what that will look like for him.”
And there it was. The familiar ache at the thought of Justine leaving. And now, at the thought of Cat leaving, too. He didn’t know when the idea of having them in his life had implanted itself in his heart, but in his heart, it absolutely was. Whether he liked it or not. Now, he just had to figure out how to deal with that. How to get past it, without getting down on his knees and begging them to stay.
Justine looked down at her hands for a second, seeming to compose herself. When she looked back up, her eyes were unmistakably misty. “No matter what, he’s going to have a lot of adjusting to do.”
“Yes,” Porter said. “But he’s a tough kid. He’ll be okay.”
“Will he, though? How do you know for sure?”
He didn’t. Nobody did. The truth was, it would be hard on Cat, like she said. But he’d get through it. The first of many of life’s curveballs that would be thrown at him over the years.
Reaching out, he took her hand. Her skin was warm, soft, and he rubbed his thumb over the backs of her knuckles.
“Next!”
The line moved up again, but all of a sudden, he wasn’t hungry anymore. All he could concentrate on was the woman standing in front of him. The feel of her hand in his. The tilt of her lips, the look in her eyes. What if he did ask her to stay? What would she say to that? He imagined her staring up at him, trying to think of a way to let him down easy. Thinking of a way not to break his heart, because she’d thought about it, and he’d been right. There was no way it would work.
“The most important thing,” he said, his voice low, “is that you’ve given him this time in Marietta. He wouldn’t have had that otherwise, and I think it’s been good for him. I think it’s helped him settle into a better place.”
A lady in a pink knit hat squeezed by and apologized under her breath. Outside the window, the snow was coming down harder now. An early storm promising a white winter.
“You’re right,” she said. “Marietta has been wonderful for him. You’ve been wonderful for him.”
“I can’t take the credit. Thank Abby and Wookiee.”
“And Alloy and Clifford, and Brooks and Daisy…”
“Hey, it takes a village.”
With a small squeeze, he let go of her hand. Her expression fell for a second. So briefly that he barely caught it.
“We’d better get back in line,” she said. “Or we’ll be here all afternoon.”
He looked at his watch. “You know, I don’t have to be back for another hour. And there’s an empty table over there. Want to have lunch?”
It wasn’t exactly asking her to cancel her trip. But it was the best he could do under the circumstances.
She smiled. “I’d love that.”
Chapter Seventeen
The morning of Marietta’s livestock auction dawned clear and cold. The naked maple trees outside Justine’s kitchen window sparkled with frost, their thin limbs reaching for the bright blue sky.
She stood at her stove, scrambling some eggs for Cat, and dumping in some extra shredded cheese at the last minute. It was a big day. He was going to need all the fuel he could get.
For the tenth time that morning, she pictured him walking up behind Calvin and tapping him on the shoulder. She imagined the man turning to look down at his son. His son whom he hadn’t seen, or even bothered to contact in years. And for the tenth time that morning, her stomach turned.
But then she’d remind herself that Cat might not even see him there. After all, it didn’t seem like he really wanted to be found.
She looked up to see Cat shuffle into the room and pull out a chair at the table. It was early, barely seven, but he’d showered and put on jeans and a collared shirt. Western-style, blue denim. His red hair was combed neatly to the side, and his freckles stood out on his pale face. He looked scared to death.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling a little too wide. “How’d you sleep?”
“Okay.”
“I’m making you cheesy eggs, your favorite. With a strawberry Pop-Tart on the side.”
“Thanks, Justine.”
She moved the eggs around in the pan, and they sizzled comfortingly.
“So,” she said. “I heard you talking on the phone last night. It was late. Did you call your grandma?”
“No. That was Amber.”
She raised her brows but tried not to look too surprised. He’d only mentioned Amber to her the other day. Something about a bet with Porter. But then he’d seemed nervous about it, so she hadn’t pushed, even though she was so curious, she could barely stand it. Other than the fight on the field trip, Cat had been quiet and reserved since coming to Marietta. It was only recently that he’d come out of his shell with his classmates. He’d hung out with a boy named Kota the other day. They’d gone out to the ranch for a trail ride. But he’d been slower to warm up to any girls, so this was a first.
“Oh yeah?” she said.
He shrugged, some color creeping into his cheeks. “She’s really nice.”
Justine sprinkled some salt and pepper over the eggs and turned the heat down. “She does seem nice. I know her folks.”
“Her grandma died a few months ago. She’s still really sad about it.”
He lowered his head and touched a worn spot on the tablecloth. Gently, like he was afraid to call attention to it.
Watching him, Justine’s heart squeezed. Even though he didn’t talk about it much, she knew he worried about Nola constantly. The visit last weekend had been good for him. He’d needed to see her in order to ease his mind a little.
She scooped the eggs onto a plate and carried them over with a glass of orange juice. “Here you go, honey. The Pop-Tart is toasting.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
She sat down next to him and put her chin in her hand. She liked watching him eat. He’d definitely grown since he’d come to stay with her. He was filling out, filling in. Looking older for sure.
“So…” she began slowly. Not knowing quite how to word what she wanted to say next. No matter what happens today, I’ll be here for you… The thought skittered across her mind, leaving a pulsing trail in its wake. She wanted him to know that he was loved. That she didn’t want him to get hurt. That she was desperate to protect him and keep him happy inside his little bubble at the ranch. But of course, that wasn’t realistic. None of them knew what would happen at the livestock auction today. Nobody knew how he’d settle in once he was back in Missoula. Or how she’d feel once she got to London. But she could guess well enough. At the moment, her heart felt like it might break in half.
He looked up at her. His normally bright eyes were deep and dark in the early
light of the morning. “I know,” he said. “You’re worried about today.”
“I just want to say that I care about you very much, Cat. You’re a very special boy.”
He looked down at his eggs and poked at them with his fork. So far, he hadn’t taken a bite. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to eat at all. “Thanks, Justine,” he said.
“And I’m not the only one. Porter and Brooks and Daisy… They all think you’re pretty amazing.”
He nodded.
“Cat…”
He looked up at her again.
“If you see your dad today, if you don’t see him today…I just want you to know that we’re all proud of you. So, so proud.”
He swallowed visibly. An expression crossed his face that she couldn’t quite place, but it was obvious that he was trying to compose himself. And then he took a swig of orange juice, before setting the glass down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I know it might not go great,” he said, his gaze settling on hers. “And that will suck if it doesn’t. But I want to at least try.”
“I know…”
“And Justine?”
“Yes?”
“I care about you, too. I’m glad I got to stay with you for a while. I really like it here.”
“I know you do, buddy.”
“I didn’t want to leave my grandma, but I know it was the right thing. She needed to get better without me there.”
“Well, I know she misses you. She misses you a lot.”
“Yeah. But she’s pretty old, and it’s hard for her to be raising a kid at her age.”
Justine smiled at that. Nola was barely sixty, but to Cat, she might as well be pushing ninety-five.
“I’m glad you got to come stay, too,” she said.
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