Chapter Twenty-Six

Roarke…

It’s an hour after I leave Hannah on my porch, and I reach for the bag I’ve packed on my bed when I pause, my jaw clenching. I kneel and pull out the clear plastic sealed box under the bed and set it on the mattress. It’s Hannah’s. It’s all the things she left at my place that I kept finding in random spots for a year after she broke my damn heart. I squat down again and pull out a pair of red boots that we’d bought for her on a trip to Dallas together, not long after I’d proposed to her at the ranch. I’d sat there in that store and watched her light up trying on those damn things. She’d wanted them for under her wedding dress. I’d lit up watching her because, apparently, that’s what happens when you fall in love. Everything about the person becomes endearing. The idea of her as my wife sure as hell lit me up.

I open the plastic box and pull out the velvet case inside, lifting the lid to stare down at her heart-shaped ring I’d had custom designed. I’d told her I picked it because she had my heart. Fuck. I’d been so in love with her. Who am I kidding? I still am, but she’s never going to forgive me for something I didn’t do. That’s clear. I shut the lid on the ring, and I stuff the case in the boots before I slide the box back under the bed, the boots beside it. While Hannah is supposed to be beside me in this bed, but I don’t know now, any more than I did in the past, how to make that happen.

A few minutes later, when I should be on my way to the airport, I pull over to the property next to ours, the one with the Private Property sign with grass overgrown—wasted land. Land that used to belong to Hannah’s family. I’ve tried to buy it. I’ve tried to buy it for her, but the government owns it, and they won’t let it go. They still want that damn highway to come through here one day. I can’t buy it. I can’t beg for it. I can’t get anyone to listen to me, and I’ve been trying since the day I earned enough money to make that happen. That damn highway that started a war between families, driven by Hannah’s family and finished by mine, is my nemesis. In the middle of it all was Jason’s father, who was already damn near bankrupt at the time. At the root of every problem between me and Hannah is this property.

No.

No, I stop myself with that. If Hannah and I were as strong as I thought, she wouldn’t have left me over a fake cheating allegation. There was a problem there between us that I don’t want to believe existed, but it did. But I can’t even begin to fix it as long as that damn sign sits on this property, and I’m the only one left who knows why and how it turned so damn bad for three families who were the best of friends until they became enemies.

…

Hannah…

Ruth is truly the best. She studies me with a keen eye when we settle into her Buick, which I swear is an older version of the same Buick she had when I was growing up, but she says nothing. She takes me to the B & B to shower, and she and Sue gossip while I dress.

Lunch is a drive-through, and Ruth tells me all about the empire that is now Martha’s cookies, and it’s fun to listen to her excitement. “I’m helping her now. It’s good to have a purpose. We’re even coming up with some healthy treats to market. You know I’ve really learned to take care of myself.”

“I love that you do.”

“We’re going to Hawaii next summer,” she says. “I need a beach body to catch me a man.”

I laugh, but I’m also aware that Ruth lost the love of her life before I ever left Sweetwater. She’s been alone for a long time. I’d love to see her marry again. In fact, I think I should include a few senior hotties for the auction. I love that idea, and I can’t wait to share it with Jessica.

It’s not long after we eat that I have my own car, and I promise to meet Ruth at Jason and Jessica’s place in an hour. I have an overdue stop I need to make—a dreaded stop but also overdue. Forty minutes later, I get out of my rental and stand next to the overgrown gates of my family property. Keep Out and Private Property signs are stapled to wood and driven into the ground by more wood. Overgrown grass and weeds overtake the property. The government owns it, and I still don’t know what happened. I dial my mother, but she doesn’t answer. I dial my father, and he doesn’t answer. I tell myself that it’s about their work demands, but I know I’m wrong. I know it’s about me being here. I need to talk to Roarke.

A movement to my left has my gaze lifting and finding a deer, and the apprehension of moments before fades into a smile. A reindeer, I silently jest, because it connects to the holidays and the holidays are always filled with hope and healing. Jessica was right. One way or another, it’s time to heal, and maybe if I heal, I’ll be better equipped to help my parents do the same.