Chapter Twenty-Two

Roarke…

I get Old Man Levor’s poor pup, who was hit by a car, stabilized and resting well before I leave him with Nathan, one of my interns, and head outside for some air. I step outside the vet offices that have been a part of our operation since long before I took over five years ago now, back when my father was the king here. A blessed cool breeze lifts around me, the hope of fall finally showing itself rather than pretending to be summer, the hint of a holiday season arriving with it. A holiday with Hannah present. I didn’t think I’d ever see that day again, but I wanted to, damn straight I wanted to. But being here and being with me are two different things.

I walk toward one of the gated areas where a beauty of a stallion, who just arrived and hasn’t been broken in, is grazing. The owner, who hired me to train him, named him Warrior, and it’s fitting. He’s regal and abrasive, but we’ll fix the abrasive part when he learns how much love his beauty will get him. I’ve just reached the enclosure when the sound of an approaching vehicle has me turning. The minute I eye Jason’s truck, I grimace and turn away. Hannah still hasn’t shown up, and damn it, I want her here. I need her here. She belongs here, with me, and in ways she doesn’t even know, not yet, ways I intended to make her believe in me again; only her showing up, before I could go to her, complicates that presentation.

Jason joins me, and we both stand there, studying the horse for several minutes, before he says, “You’re still so fucking in love with her.”

“Was that ever in question?”

He turns to look at me. “No. But I didn’t see it, and I should have. I was too wrapped up in my own bullshit to see beyond that shit.”

“I wouldn’t have talked about it anyway.”

“Bullshit,” Jason murmurs. “I would have made you talk about it just like you made me talk about the crap that almost ruined me with Jessica. I let you down.”

“You didn’t let me down, man. You’re—you’re family.”

“So is she.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, she is.” I turn away from him, feeling the punch in my gut at how right he is and how wrong this has all gone.

Jason faces the enclosure again with me, both of us silent a few moments, before he adds, “I would have made you do something to get her back or made you move on a long time ago.”

“I didn’t want to move on, and now that she’s back, I still don’t.” I look over at him. “I have to get her back.”

“Then let’s talk about that. She thinks you cheated. Make her believe you when you tell her you didn’t.”

“It’s not that simple, man. There are things you don’t know. Things I’m not ready to talk about.”

“Fair enough, but why did she think you cheated?”

“The why doesn’t matter,” I say, not about to get into the topic of the video, which came from a source that will only set a fire I’m not ready to light. “She believed it. She didn’t even consider listening to what I had to say. Even now, after all these years, every damn time I’ve been with a woman, I’ve wished I was with Hannah.”

“Then whatever the complication is, whatever you won’t talk to me about, find a way to simplify that shit. You’re good at that. You do it for the animals all the time. You do it for the people you teach to handle the horses. You do it for the interns. I’ve seen you. Do it for yourself. The way you’re going to do it for those kids who come here and learn from you.” He knocks on the wooden gate. “I need to get home. I promised my grandmother I’d spend some time with her tonight, and I’ve learned that we don’t always get a tomorrow. You should remember that, too.” Leaving me with the lesson he learned after losing his parents so damn tragically, the one driven home by my father’s stroke, he turns and walks away.

He’s right, of course, he’s right, but his lesson is double-sided for me. Our parents, all of our parents, got into a nasty war that ultimately led to Hannah’s family losing their land. It also led to some nastiness between families that included framing me for cheating. I can save myself by telling Hannah everything, but then Hannah and Jason would find out how shitty their parents are and were. And I’m not sure Hannah can forgive me for what my father did to her parents any more than she can forgive her parents for what they did to us. What I am sure of is that Hannah coming home is like the hand of a clock that’s been stuck but now moves. It’s time for change. It’s time for resolution. It’s time for me to fight for Hannah. It’s past time for me to fight for Hannah.

I can’t live another day without that woman.