Holly didn’t go to the restaurant on Saturday morning. She needed to think and pray. Then she needed to call her dad for some advice, a task she dreaded. He’d never been keen on her marrying—almost marrying—Nathan, and he’d been even less keen when she’d allowed herself to be talked into reopening Sweet Caroline’s. He’d warned her that too much debt came with doing so. But she’d listened to Nathan instead of her dad. She could only imagine what he would say to her now when she admitted the dire straits she was in.
Thinking about Nathan Estes—which the situation at the restaurant had caused her to do more of than usual—hadn’t helped her mood. She’d fallen for Nathan quickly, had succumbed to his charms with complete abandon, believing their love would last a lifetime. She’d believed him to be all that he appeared on the surface. A good man. A Christian man. A hardworking man. An honest man. A man who would keep his promises. Learning she was wrong—horribly, terribly, utterly wrong—had been a cruel lesson. Cruel . . . and a lesson she shouldn’t let herself forget, even if her little sister did think opening her heart was a good idea.
She’d known Jed how long? A little more than a month. And in that brief time, she’d allowed him to become her friend and then to become something more. She’d laughed with him, opened up to him, kissed him. She believed him to be a good man, a Christian man, a hardworking man, an honest man, a man who kept his promises. But how could she know for certain? Based on what? Her own poor track record? How could she ever be sure about people? Everyone put their best foot forward when meeting others. No one went around announcing that they were unreliable or only a lukewarm Christian or lazy or a liar.
“I trust too easily.” Clad in a loose T-shirt and a pair of cutoff sweatpants, her hair in a messy bun, yesterday’s mascara smudged under her eyes, she walked circles around her kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand. “I’m a fool. I let my emotions blind me to the truth. I didn’t know Nathan, even after more than a year. How can I think I know Jed after a month? I have enough troubles as it is. I don’t need more.”
Sitting on a nearby stool, Pumpkin flicked her tail as if in agreement.
A knock sounded at Holly’s back door. It had to be Jed. Who else would it be at this time on a Saturday? She went to answer it, too tired and worried to care about her appearance. Judging by the way his eyes widened when he saw her, she looked even worse than she’d thought.
“Morning.” He held AJ with one arm, the little boy riding on his hip.
“Morning.”
“We’re heading out to the farm. Care to go with us?”
She shook her head.
“Gotta work?”
“No. Not today. But there are some—”
“Then come with me. With us. We won’t stay the whole day. In fact, you can decide when it’s time to leave. Half an hour. Five hours. Totally up to you. Whatever you want.”
His words tugged at her heart. She wanted to go with him in the worst way. She wanted to be in his company. She would love for him to make her laugh, hold her hand, perhaps kiss her again. She would love for him to make her forget about the financial anvil hanging over her head and the stupid mistakes she’d made.
But weren’t those the very reasons why she shouldn’t go? She couldn’t trust her judgment. She couldn’t trust her feelings. The heart was deceitful, as she’d learned the hard way. And her heart was in grave danger when it came to Jed Henning.
“I can’t go with you, Jed. I’m sorry. You and AJ have a good time.” She narrowed the opening.
“Hey, is something wrong?”
She shook her head.
“Have I done something wrong?”
Tears burned in the back of her throat. “No. It’s just . . . I can’t go with you. It’s too . . . I’m not . . .” She swallowed. “I’ve got to go. Sorry.” She closed the door.
She felt the closing of her heart too. She felt it in her chest. Like a thud. Or a punch. Or a slam.
* * *
Ashley came to greet Jed as he unbuckled AJ from his car seat. Then she held out her arms. “I’ll take him, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” He wasn’t about to turn down an offer of help.
AJ went to Ashley without a fuss. Maybe he was sick of his uncle already. Maybe he was ready for someone who knew more about kids. Whatever the reason, he seemed happy to be in her arms.
Holding the toddler close, Ashley frowned at Jed. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not sure.” He swept the area with his gaze. “Is Ben around?”
“You’ll find him on the other side of the barn.” Glancing down at the boy, she said, “Let’s go play in the yard, shall we? I’ve got some toys for you.” AJ seemed happy with the suggestion.
Jed watched them go, then swiveled on his heel. He found Ben in the small pen beyond the barn, along with a wide-eyed dun gelding. Jed didn’t say anything when he arrived at the fence, content to watch as Ben attempted to settle the nervous animal. If only something could settle Jed.
All the way out to the farm, he’d replayed the moment when Holly had closed the door after refusing to come with him. Maybe it hadn’t been a slammed door, precisely, but it felt like it. Had he done something to cause her to withdraw from him? Had he unintentionally offended or hurt her in some way? The past few days had been crazy. No doubt about that. But what had he done in that time to take them from a reciprocated kiss on a hike in the foothills to a door closed in his face? It didn’t make sense to him. Worse, it scared him. Scared him that what had seemed a special connection between him and Holly might already be broken.
“Ashley got AJ?” Ben asked in a low voice.
It took a moment for Jed to realize the question had been directed at him. “Yeah.”
“How does it feel to be an uncle in charge?” Ben held out a hand toward the horse, keeping his words soft and soothing.
“Scary at times. But it’s getting better.”
“How’s his mom?”
“Doing better than expected, I guess. She called me this morning before I headed out here.”
Ben drew in a slow, deep breath, still watching the gelding as he took a step backward, then another and another until his back touched the gate. Only then did he turn away from the horse and leave the pen.
“What’s this guy’s story?” Jed asked, nodding at the dun.
“Not sure. Whatever happened to him, he’s skittish around people. Somebody did something bad to him. It’ll take time before he’s ready to trust again.”
Jed continued to stare at the horse. Something about the way the animal had looked at Ben made him think of Holly when she’d opened the door that morning. Skittish. Afraid. Not ready to trust.
“You okay?” Ben asked, echoing Ashley’s question from a short while before.
Jed shrugged.
“Is it Chris?”
“No.” He looked at his cousin. “Although he called me last night.”
“He did? Is he on his way back?”
“I don’t know.” He quickly told Ben about the problems with the call. “I don’t know if he heard me any better than I heard him. He may not even know about Willow. If he’d told me or Willow who he was working for or what sort of employment he’s taken, it might help us track him down. As it is . . .” He let his voice trail into silence.
“Sounds to me like he’s in a remote area. Plenty of Idaho doesn’t have good phone coverage.” Ben took a step closer to Jed. “But now tell me what’s really bothering you.”
“Holly.”
Ben’s eyebrows went up.
“I thought things were going well between us. Really well. Now, all of a sudden, she’s pulled back. On the way out here, I was trying to figure out what I might have done or said to upset her or make her mad or hurt her. I can’t think of a thing.”
His cousin remained silent but gave a small nod.
“When I saw her this morning—I asked her to come to the farm with us—she almost looked . . . I don’t know . . . afraid of me.”
“Afraid?”
Jed glanced back at the dun gelding in the pen. “Kind of like that horse was looking at you a bit ago.” He drew in a slow breath. “Not ready to trust,” he added softly.