"It's still not right!"
Claire's wailed words—on top of all the drama of the past two days—caused a throbbing pain behind Weston's right eye.
He needed an ibuprofen. Or to escape this madhouse.
With two weeks until Valentine's Day, why had he let the three women talk him into this?
Melody touched his calf—about the only part she could reach from where he stood on a six-foot ladder—and the pain almost went away. Almost
"A little to the left, and we'll call it good, right girls? You still have to get dressed, too."
Arms aching, he tied off the heart-shaped paper lantern and got the heck off the ladder before Claire changed her mind again.
Claire and Chase rushed out of the barn, their low tones muttering something about makeup, leaving him to put away the ladder.
When he emerged from the storage room at the back of the barn, he stood for a moment and watched Melody—whose hair color was now auburn—plug in the white twinkle lights they'd strung in a criss-crossed pattern beneath the high barn ceiling. They all lit up, thank God, and didn't blow the fuse.
That might change when Chase plugged in the stereo for whatever dance music—or what passed for it—they'd start in about an hour when the guests arrived.
He'd been skeptical when Melody suggested they host a party for the freshman class a week before the official school Valentine's Day. A dozen fourteen- and fifteen-year-old teens on his property?
But Melody had insisted the two of them could chaperone, and Claire and Chase would still get to have the dance they'd been denied, thanks to Ezra Warren.
He was in love with this creative, beautiful woman.
And he was still leaving.
He rested his hand on the empty stall where one of Ben's two rescued mares had stayed until the day before, when Ben had come out to relocate them. They'd been a lot of work, but Weston had seen improvement in their temperaments and their trust in humans in the short weeks he'd cared for them. The girls had been smitten with them.
He kind missed how they snuffled his jacket for treats.
He was going to miss a lot of things from Redbud Trails. Melody. The girls.
His mom's therapist seemed to think she was in a good place for her release. She was expected sometime next week.
And then he'd have no reason not to get back to his life, back to his job in Oklahoma City.
He and Melody had tiptoed around the issue of his leaving since they'd made it back from Weatherford. The storm had cleared out after several hours. Melody had fallen asleep on his chest, and he'd been loathe to wake her up, but he also didn't want her neighbors worrying—and gossiping—if she were out all night.
He'd driven about ten miles an hour, and the trip back to Redbud Trails had taken five times what it normally would have, but he'd delivered Melody home before daybreak.
He hadn't been able to stay away from her in the two weeks since.
She'd surprised him with an indoor picnic supper one night—which the girls had crashed, but that was okay.
He'd gone to her house after the store closed a couple of nights to watch movies and eat a late supper.
He hadn't been hiding the fact that they were sort of dating—mostly due to Melody's insistence—but he also hadn't been broadcasting it around down.
He didn't want anyone making trouble for Melody, especially since he was leaving.
"You're looking awfully serious, cowboy." Melody strode close, looking adorable as usual in her denim skirt and a tall pair of pink cowgirl boots.
He didn't want to talk about leaving, not when this might be one of the last times he had her alone.
"You said you never went to a school dance?" he asked instead, reaching for her and letting his hands settle at her waist.
"Nope." She followed his lead as he mostly swayed in the silence.
"This is a little different from the box step we learned," she said.
His chin brushed her temple; he could hear the smile in her voice.
"This was my repertoire in high school." He nuzzled his nose into her hair. "In fact, don't be surprised if we turn on the music and the boys huddle on one side of the barn and the girls stick to the opposite. I don't think I asked a girl to dance until..."
He shook his head. What was he thinking, bringing up Eve?
The shock of pain that normally accompanied thoughts of his high school girlfriend was noticeably absent. He could thank Melody for that.
She'd been a huge help as he'd dealt with the girls. And he knew she'd stay in their lives after he left, now that they both worked part-time in her shop.
The sound of a horn honking had him releasing Melody and moving out of the barn's double doors so he could see the drive.
"Don't tell me someone's an hour early," Melody was saying from behind him, but his hearing had gone to a high-pitched hum.
"It's my mom."
Melody accompanied Weston into the house—he'd clutched her hand and hadn't let go, so she'd really had no choice but to follow him in. Not that she would have been anywhere else.
They made it to the kitchen just as the front door opened and a woman with gray hair and features that identified her as Weston and the girls' mother pushed through the front door. She carried a large duffel that she set just inside the door.
"Weston."
"Mom."
The older woman's eyes tracked along Weston's arm to where their hands were clasped. Melody stepped forward. "Hello. I'm Melody."
"I recognize you."
Weston squeezed her hand gently. "This is my mother. Karly Moore."
"Melody, is that you? We need advice on our eye shadow..." Claire's exuberant voice faded as she walked from the hall and right into the middle of the tension-filled family living area.
"What—?" Chase bumped into Claire's back, then went silent too.
"What are you wearing?" Karly asked. No hello to the girls.
Claire had the audacity to prop a hand on her hip, showing off the designer dress she'd earned through working at the store. Beside her, Chase moved slightly into the living room so that her skinny jeans and a rainbow-hued long sleeved T-shirt were visible, along with the trendy short boots Melody had let her borrow from her own closet.
"We're having an early Valentine's Day party," Claire said, her chin raised in what was almost a dare.
Karly slid a glance to Weston. "I guess your brother's paying for your new clothes and a party? Don't get used to it."
"Mom," Weston started.
"Actually, we bought the clothes," Chase piped in. "We both got jobs."
Karly's eyes narrowed, and she threw an accusing glance at Weston. "Your brother let you get jobs?"
"Maybe we can talk about it after you get settled in," Weston suggested.
Claire threw a pleading glance at Melody.
"Eye shadow. Right." Melody let go of Weston's hand, instantly missing the contact, and started to follow the girls to their room.
"Let me get that for you, Mom," Weston said.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Weston grabbing his mom's duffel bag. "My stuff's in your room, but it won't take me long to pack up."
Melody's stomach dipped to her toes, her heart catching up with her head on what exactly it meant that Karly had returned.
Weston would be leaving. Soon.
"She wasn't supposed to be home until Tuesday," Chase murmured when Melody followed the girls into their room.
They both sat on their beds, and the emotional look they shared said everything. They weren't thrilled to have their mom home. Weston and the girls had settled into a comfortable rhythm, and now, everything would change.
It made Melody a little sick to her stomach, knowing the girls must be wondering when or if Karly would go off the deep end again.
"Things are different now," Melody said. The space between the twin beds was close enough that she could reach out and touch both twins' shoulders. "You'll still see me three afternoons and week and more during the summer." And she made a silent vow that if she saw any signs that Karly was self-medicating, she'd contact Weston.
"Maybe," Chase said darkly. Melody could only hope that Karly would let the girls keep their jobs. It might ease some of the money troubles and allow them to gain some independence. And they thrived in the work.
"And Weston is only a phone call away," Melody added.
"Yeah." Claire's agreement was half-hearted, and she stared down at her fingers, which were twisting a loose thread on her bedspread.
Melody squeezed their shoulders lightly. "It'll be okay."
Claire slid a sideways look at Melody. "We thought Weston might want to stay. In Redbud Trails."
"He likes you," Chase added. "A lot."
She liked him a lot too. Thinking about him leaving opened a gaping hole inside her.
"Would you...ask him to stay?"
She bit her lip and shook her head slightly. She'd stayed up nights thinking about what things could be like if Weston chose to stay in town. But she also knew how hard it was for him to be here.
She could never ask him to stay, knowing that his past caused him pain, and that some folks wouldn't let him forget it.
Even if her heart was breaking.
"Let's get your eye shadow right," she said, injecting a positive tone into her voice. "Your friends will be here before you know it."
The girls looked at each other, pink showing in their cheeks before their eyes started dancing once again.
Crisis averted, at least until after the party.
Weston stood with his arms crossed in the shadows at the back of the barn. Brooding maybe, but he couldn't help it.
His mom was home early. And her return had already caused tension with the twins.
What would happen when he was gone? He wouldn't be nearby to watch over them. What if his mom got depressed again? Started using again? Who would be there for the twins?
Melody would.
He knew she'd call him in the city if he needed to come home.
But he ached, thinking about being two and a half hours from her instead of only a few minutes away.
"You're scaring the guests." Melody joined him. She'd been in her element for the last hour, greeting the guests with Claire and Chase.
His sisters cleaned up nice. They were beaming, wafting from group to group like grown up butterflies or something.
That was Melody's doing, not his.
"About half of them need to be scared." He nodded toward a crowd of boys. "Scared is good."
A commotion near the wide open barn doors had several of the teens' heads turning in that direction. Chase, who was standing a couple of yards away with three other girls, gasped audibly.
Three boys stood in the open doorway, looking uncomfortable and out of place.
Whispers traveled through the groups of kids. No one made a move to greet them, as if everyone was frozen, watching.
Melody whispered something to herself.
"What?" he asked.
"It's him. Jeremy."
He shrugged, palms raised.
"Jeremy." She huffed a sigh at him. "The guy Chase has been crushing on."
Suddenly, it registered. Jeremy Warren. Ezra's son.
"He's not a freshman," Weston muttered.
"No. He isn't."
The sophomore was in the middle of two other young men friends who must've been there for support. As Weston watched, he straightened his shoulders and strode into the barn.
Right through the clusters of freshmen and straight up to Weston.
"Jeremy Warren."
Weston shook the kid's hand. He had to give him props. The kid met his eyes, unflinching, and had a firm handshake.
"I hope it's okay that I crashed the party." Now there was red creeping up his neck from the collar of his plaid button-up. "I really wanted to invite Chase to the Valentine's dance, but my dad..." He glanced to the side, where Chase had moved two steps away from her friends, obviously listening in, even over the loud music blaring.
"My buddies and I are boycotting the school dance," Jeremy said, loud enough that Chase could hear too.
"Does your dad know you're here?" Weston asked.
Jeremy nodded, unsmiling. "He wasn't too happy about it, but I had to make a stand." Another covert—or not so much—glance at Chase.
What could Weston say, if the kid was brave enough to stand up to his own dad to come and hang out with Chase?
"And just for the record, I don't agree with the way my dad's been treating you, either."
It was all Weston could do to nod. His throat had gone suspiciously tight.
Melody squeezed Weston's arm. "Have fun at the party, Jeremy."
Weston nodded to the kid. Before he'd even turned away, Chase was there, asking shyly, "Do you want to dance?"
They joined the four or five kids who were—awkwardly—dancing in the middle of the floor. Jeremy's buddies mingled.
Weston saw Chase shoot a wide-eyed glance at Claire, who returned a double thumbs up when Jeremy wasn't looking.
Chase had gotten her happy ending.
And he had to appreciate the kid's guts in coming tonight, standing up to his father.
Had Weston been wrong all this time? Could people really forget and move on?
Was he reading too much into Ezra's actions?
He didn't know.
What he did know was that now that Karly was home, he didn't have a place to sleep. It would be a late drive home to his empty apartment in Oklahoma City.
Melody settled one arm around his waist and he slid his arm around her shoulder. Holding her for maybe the last time.
He didn't want to say goodbye.
But he didn't have a choice.