Chapter Twenty-Three

Hannah…

Once we set the topic of me and Roarke aside, Jessica and I huddle up there in the diner and do some major brainstorming. It becomes apparent that we really do get along so very well and our shared excitement for the festival feeds that connection. Jason calls somewhere in the middle of our third cups of coffee and promises to have at least a couple of guys for the auction in the next twenty-four hours. When we’re wrapped up and walking out to her car, I groan. “I haven’t even checked on my car. I need to get a rental, which is going to be about an hour drive. Maybe Nick can take me.”

We climb inside her BMW, and Jessica is as generous as always. “I can take you into the city tomorrow. No worries at all.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not asking you to do that.”

She waves that worry away. “You didn’t ask at all. What are friends for if not to help? And we need you mobile. Come on. I’ll take you to sing to Snowflake. I’ll let Roarke get you home. Or not.”

I scowl, and she laughs, but I let it go. I could avoid an awkward moment with Roarke by seeing Snowflake after I get my own transportation again, but Snowflake needs comfort. And I need to see her. And Roarke. Lord help me, I need to see Roarke.

I sink into the leather of my seat and think about last night; every touch, every kiss, every moment is suddenly back with me. I didn’t want it to end, and the abrupt way that it ended was like reliving the past. One minute I was with him, and the next minute, I wasn’t. I’ve never felt like we had closure.

Jessica pulls up in front of the veterinary office that sits on Roarke’s property, and I realize that I haven’t even asked about his father. “How is his father?”

“He had a stroke, and from what I hear, it was rough. He moved to a retirement community down in Georgetown.”

“A stroke,” I whisper, and I know, I know how badly that must have affected Roarke. And I wasn’t here, but I have to remind myself that wasn’t my doing. I shake myself and look at Jessica. “Thank you for the ride. I’m excited to get started on everything.”

“Do you want to come to the house and work tomorrow?” she asks. “We can get your car and then hunker down together.”

“Yes. Great. What time?”

“How about ten? I’ll pick you up.”

“Perfect,” I say, exiting the car and settling my purse across my chest to securely hang at my hip.

Jessica pulls out of the drive, and I turn to wave before facing the office again. Roarke’s truck is right beside me. He’s here for sure. My gaze lifts and finds the stable to my left, and I know that’s where all the sick horses are housed. Snowflake will be there. I start walking, motion detectors setting off lights on a designated path that leads me straight to the door.

I reach the stable and enter the well-lit building to find a horse to my left, with Roarke on one knee next to a pretty redhead, giving her instructions. The horse shuffles slightly. “You’re nervous. It’s making him nervous.”

“I don’t want to get kicked.”

“You’re going to get kicked by acting nervous,” Roarke warns. “The animals sense your emotions.”

“I’m clearly better with small animals.” The redhead stands, and Roarke follows her to her feet. “You need to just deep breathe, Allison.”

Allison’s gaze shifts and lands on me, and my God, she’s gorgeous. Really, really gorgeous. “Hello,” she says, and she’s not even a little standoffish. She’s friendly. She’s a nice person, I just feel it, as silly as that might seem. And she’s working with Roarke, who has a thing for redheads, or he did when we were growing up. He dated a girl in high school and—

Roarke turns to find me there, and his eyes light. “Hannah.”

My instinct is to protect myself from this man, to run before he can hurt me again, but he’s completely and instantly engaged with my presence, and already he has closed the space between us. His hand reaches for me as if it will land on my waist, but he catches himself and curls his fingers in his palm. Leaning closer, he lowers his voice and says, “Now would be a good time to ask.”

“Ask?”

“You’re killing me here, woman,” he murmurs, and it’s then that I realize what he means. He’s not thinking of the redhead. He’s thinking about me. He wants me to ask him to kiss me. He wants it to be okay to casually touch me. And Lord help me, I want him to touch me. I want things that will only lead me to heartache. I want everything I lost to be found and never lost again. If only that were possible. If only—

“Can we talk? You know,” I lower my voice, “alone?”

“Take the night off, Allison,” Roarke calls over his shoulder and then refocuses on me. “Come with me, Han,” he murmurs, and this time, he doesn’t resist touching me. He catches the fingers of one of my hands with his, and while it’s a barely-there touch, that “Han” along with the connection about undoes all my reserve. Han might seem like a silly name to many, but it’s not to me. It’s what he’s called me all my life, what no one else calls me. It’s a joke that became an endearment to me. It’s memories and love and passion. It’s everything we were, which was everything.

He leads me past Allison, deeper into the stable, which is large with a long walkway. I might follow him if he were anyone else, but he’s quick to ensure that we’re side by side, like we’re together. He’s not pulling me. He’s not leading me anywhere. His touch is pure heat, warmth spreading up my arm and across my chest. I could pull back, I could tell him not to touch me, and I know that Roarke would let me go, and he’d hesitate all the more in the future, too. I just can’t seem to want him to let me go, and yet, too soon, he does.

He motions to the right, to an opening on my side of the walkway. We step inside an empty stall well away from Allison’s hearing, and the scent of the stables, hay, and horses is all about history, memories, family. I stop just inside the doorway and turn to face him, but our fingers are still joined. He steps into me. I don’t step back.

“I’m struggling with so many memories and feelings,” I whisper. “I want to pretend we’re us again.”

“We don’t have to fucking pretend. I love you, woman. I have always loved you.”

I’m not stunned by these words. I just don’t know what they mean to him anymore. “And I love you,” I say, comfortable in the honesty of those words, far more so than I was in the fake flippancy of last night. “But we both know that I’m never going to get over you cheating.”

His jaw clenches and his fingers slide away from mine, he withdraws, just as he has for years, and that cuts. Instinctively, defensively, I fold my arms in front of me and take a solid step backward.

He runs fingers through the longish strands of his dark hair, leaving it a rumpled, sexy mess before his hands settle on his hips. “I didn’t cheat.”

Anger comes hard and fast. “Is that why you didn’t come after me? Because your mind was on me and not her?”

“I didn’t even know that woman. I don’t know that woman. I didn’t cheat. And as for why I didn’t come after you, aside from having a family situation here that I didn’t know about until you ran off—”

“I didn’t run off. I left. There’s a difference.”

“Actually, you’re right. You left. You made that decision. You didn’t even think about hearing me out. You didn’t just leave, Hannah, you got on a plane and went to L.A., without so much as telling me. You made it pretty clear that there was more going on than a foolish accusation.”

“What does that even mean, Roarke? What more was going on?”

“You wanted out. You wanted a reason to take a break.”

“I did not want a reason to take a break. I was dying inside after I received that video. You didn’t even come for me. You and that woman—”

He steps closer to me again. “I didn’t cheat. Why would I want that woman? I’ve dated since you left. I’ve tried to move the fuck on. I haven’t been celibate, Hannah, but no one was you. I don’t know why I’m saying this. You don’t believe me. Why the hell were you going to marry me if you had so little faith in me?” He holds up a hand. “Don’t answer. I don’t need my heart ripped out of my chest yet again. Do you still want to meet Snowflake?”

“Roarke—”

“Not now, Hannah. If you know me at all, you know when I hit a wall, I’ve hit a wall.”

“If I know you at all? Me coming back, all I did was open our wounds, so we can bleed together, right?”

He inhales and steps to me again, and I can’t even believe how much relief I feel with that move on his part. He lifts his hand and brushes hair behind my ear. “If I could bleed for you, if I could take all the pain for you, I would, but maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that was my mistake.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, and the truth is, Han, I don’t know how to make you understand. Just know this: if I could turn back time and have a do-over, I’d find a better way. I’d make sure we ended up together. Do you want to meet Snowflake?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll show you where she is.”

I nod, and this time, he doesn’t reach for my hand, the absence of his touch leaving me cold and wanting. He steps out of the stall and waits on me in the walkway. I step to his side, and we walk three stalls down to the corner, the final door, and stop. “She’s drugged and resting. She’s been uneasy.”

He opens the door, and I step inside to find the white beauty laying down, which is a true sign of just how drugged she is. Most people don’t know that horses do sleep laying down, at least that’s their deep REM sleep, but they rarely get caught on the ground. As animals prey upon them in the wild, they’re hypersensitive to noises. They’re up before we know they were down.

“Poor girl,” I whisper, moving toward her and kneeling.

For the next few minutes, I talk to her, and yes, I start to sing, a soft country song: “Bless the Broken Road” by Rascal Flatts. A song about choices, about a path that was broken. No. It’s really about finding your way back home, whatever home means to you.  I have no idea why this song always comes to me when I’m with the animals, but it just feels like it speaks to their plight of feeling lost in the moment. It hits a little too close to home, to me and Roarke right now, though, but I’m committed. I keep singing. Soon, I’m sitting next to Snowflake, stroking her nose, and now I’ve changed songs. I’ve decided to get into the festival mood, and I launch into “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”

Roarke laughs and sits down next to me. He even joins me in a few Christmas carols for Snowflake’s benefit, and I don’t know how long the two of us just sit there with Snowflake, but I never did in the past, either. “I need to check on a dog I operated on earlier,” Roarke says. “I’ll be back. Unless you want to come with me?”

“How bad is the dog?”

“Pretty bad.”

I stroke Snowflake’s nose. “I’ll be back tomorrow, girl. I promise.” I kiss her, and Roarke is already standing. He offers me his hand, and all the tension between us has faded. I slide my palm into his, and he helps me to my feet.

The heat between us is instant, the history filling all the empty spaces between us. “I know after what happened earlier this is crazy for me to say, but Roarke, it’s good to be back here. It’s good to be here with you.”

“It’s good to have you back, Hannah.”

Hannah, not Han. His guard is up, and I want to tear it down, proof that I’m a conflicted mess where Roarke is concerned, but in this moment, I don’t care. “I’m going to make my homecoming special. I’m going to make this Christmas festival special. And I’m going to be here to sing to Snowflake every day until she gives birth.”

“Snowflake and I are going to hold you to that.” He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I guess I just broke a promise. I kissed you before you asked.”

“The hand doesn’t count,” I say, my voice raspy with emotion.

“Careful now. I’ll take liberties and decide I can kiss other places, and it won’t count.”

“I’ll let you know if you cross a line.”

“Roarke!”

At the sound of a panicked male voice shouting his name, Roarke tears away from me and bursts out of the stall. I follow him, sealing up Snowflake, and when I exit the stables on his heels, it’s to a helicopter landing near the hospital. A few minutes later, I’m watching as a horse is being wheeled into the building, and the magnitude of how special this man is, of how much he does for animals overwhelms me. He was always bigger than life, and a part of me, when faced with that on a real level, when I was his partner in life, was intimidated. For just a moment, I consider his accusation that I ran. Did I run? Was I scared? Was I so intimidated that I felt I wasn’t good enough?

As I stand there with that question in the air, Roarke screams my name. “Hannah! I need you!”

Hannah! I need you! The words radiate through me, and I take off running, but this time, it’s not away from Roarke. I’m running to him.