Josh picked up the crowbar, the heavy length of metal solid and reassuring in his hand. He set the wedge end against the rotted board in the barn wall and with a dry, splintering crack pulled the board off. Next to him, Hank was doing the same. The barn probably hadn’t been worked on in a good thirty years, and it was definitely showing its age. Hank was able to handle the upkeep on the house on his own, but the barn was a two-man-or-more job.
This was his second day here with Hank, and Josh had easily fallen into the rhythms of rural life again. He didn’t have to converse, Hank didn’t expect him to make jokes or pretend to be happy, and Josh could simply be silent and within himself.
Josh had tossed out his cigarettes that first day, right after Luke dropped him off. If he was going to be a better man, he needed to be rid of all his bad habits. Leonora needed him healthy if he was going to be with her.
He was also driving Hank’s truck, at least around the property. He still wasn’t totally easy about it, but he was doing it. Next time she needed him to take her to urgent care, he’d be prepared.
The question was: Would she need him again? He hadn’t heard from her, his phone remaining aggravatingly blank no matter how many times he checked it.
It hurt like a mother, her silence, but he was resolved to trust her. If she thought cutting him off was best for her, he’d respect that. She knew her own mind.
He only hoped her silence wasn’t due to her parents’ manipulation. It had only been two days, but if he still hadn’t heard anything by Friday, he’d send some feelers out through Luke, whether Luke liked it or not.
Lil had returned just yesterday from Brazil, having cut her trip short, and had been out to see them this morning. She was all lit up with indignation at Benedict and told Josh there was no way Benedict could fire him. Only she had that power.
Josh appreciated her support—although it was a little late coming—so he thanked Lil and told her if she could rehire him, he’d be grateful. And if she couldn’t, he’d get by.
There’d been no sign of Benedict. Not that Josh was expecting his eldest brother to apologize or anything like that—but an acknowledgment that he knew his youngest brother still existed would’ve been… Well, the rift with Benedict was hurting worse than Josh had expected.
All of it hurt, and he ached like an old man most of the time. Thank God he had physical labor to take his mind from it.
They’d been working on the barn all afternoon, and there were only a few boards left in this northern wall. Josh would be glad when it was done and they could put fresh boards on. The frame itself was still sturdy—the barn simply needed a new exterior to be almost as good as new.
“What you want to do about dinner?” Hank asked.
Josh mopped his brow and readied himself to pry off the second-to-last board. “I’m not sure. Do we have some of that roast left?”
Hank’s dog lifted his head then, looking at something that must be coming down the drive although Josh couldn’t see or hear anything. The dog didn’t bark, but then that dog never did. It was even quieter than Hank.
Hank slowly stripped off his work gloves. “You expecting more company?”
Josh almost felt sorry for Hank, and he definitely felt guilty. Since Josh had come back, Hank probably had more visitors in a week than he used to have in a month. True, it was mostly family except for Leonora, but even too much family wore on Hank’s nerves.
“I’m not, but I’ll go talk to them. You can go hide in the house if you want.”
“I’d say that company is starting to grow on me, but that’d be a damn lie.” Hank tossed his gloves onto a sawhorse.
“I’ll be out of your hair soon.” Josh wasn’t certain how soon though. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life hiding here with Hank, but he wasn’t ready to face the emptiness of his apartment.
As a truck coming down the road became clear, Josh’s heart sank. “Shit.”
It looked like Benedict had finally decided to acknowledge his youngest brother.
Josh stood in the middle of the driveway, hands braced on his hips, watching as Benedict pulled the truck to a stop. Benedict stepped out, wearing a grim expression that made Josh’s gut clench.
“If you’re here to see Hank, he’s in the house,” Josh threw out.
Benedict’s jaw tightened. “You know I’m not here to see Hank.”
Josh tilted his head and let a beat of tension stretch between them. “How am I supposed to know that? Why would I think you’d be here to see me?”
Benedict lifted his hat, resettled it on his head. Maybe he wasn’t as cool about all this as he was pretending. “I warned you what would happen.”
“You did. And you made good on your promise. So why are you out here? Do you have to say ‘I told you so’ too?”
Josh had been wishing Benedict would do or say something, but having him here, just staring him down in the driveway, was fucking agonizing. He’d never before realized how much he’d craved any sign of approval from Benedict.
“I heard about your taking Leonora to the doctor. And about what happened after.” Benedict’s jaw didn’t relax even a fraction. There wasn’t even a hint of praise there.
“That was days ago.” Benedict might have said something then. “Why are you here now?”
“I’ve been thinking about stuff. And talking with Javier.”
Josh’s heart sank with guilt. “None of this was Javier’s fault. Don’t blame him. He only did what I asked.”
“And Leonora? Did she only ever do what you asked?”
The fact that Benedict didn’t know the answer to that meant he’d never understood. Not even the barest fraction. “She only ever did what she wanted.” Josh’s voice broke a little on that because she might want to be rid of him now. He just didn’t know. “Not that her family ever seemed to care what she wanted.”
Benedict was clever enough to catch the deeper meaning there. “We only wanted to protect her. Her and you.”
Now that, that was the real slug to the chest. “Protect, huh? You won’t even admit it felt good to order me around, to have me under your thumb. It was never about protecting me.”
Leonora, yes. But not him. Never him.
“It did feel good.” Benedict’s expression slipped but didn’t go soft. “Because I thought I could correct your mistakes for you.”
“Well, you can’t. Only I can do that. And Leonora…” Josh shook his head. “She was never a mistake. Not then, not now.”
Even if things were over between them, he’d never regret the time they’d already had. Not before the accident and not after.
“I never said Leonora was a mistake.”
Josh couldn’t say anything to that since it hurt too damn much to keep talking about her.
Benedict adjusted his hat again and sighed. “Lil’s been after me to give you back your job. Said you’d been doing excellent work and she didn’t want to lose you.” He was forcing himself to sound upbeat there, or at least as upbeat as he ever was. The syllables creaked under the strain of it.
It was a peace offering, a small one, and Josh had grown up enough that he could reply in the same spirit. “That’s nice of her to say and nice of you to tell me. But if I can’t work things out with Leonora, I’m probably leaving. There’s no future for me here.”
Benedict watched him for long moments, not with judgment but with a deeper kind of searching. “I thought you loved her.”
I thought she loved me.
“I do.” There was a strange relief in admitting that to Benedict. “Which is something none of you ever understood. But she might not want to be with me, not after everything that’s happened.” Josh shrugged with forced casualness. “So…”
For the first time, Benedict looked truly pissed. “So you’re just gonna give up?”
“You’re the one who told me to stay away from her.” Now it was fine if Josh pursued her?
“I did. But I’m beginning to wonder if there’s any way to keep the two of you apart.”
That would have been such welcome news a few weeks ago. But it did nothing for Josh now.
“It doesn’t even matter if you try anymore. Her family is against it, and they always will be. And she needs them.”
“So you admit you were wrong to move in with her?”
Of course Benedict would home in on that. He might have admitted he couldn’t keep Josh and Leonora apart, but he was still Benedict.
“I was wrong,” Josh said carefully and slowly. This was what Leonora had meant when she’d said they’d come at this all wrong. Too bad she wasn’t here to see him trying to come at it the right way. “I never should have promised I wouldn’t see her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold to it, and I promised anyway. But my obligations to her, to try to make amends, outweighed that promise.”
“Was that so hard?” Benedict muttered.
Josh smiled to himself. “You should try saying that yourself sometime—it might help you relax a little.” He hadn’t meant to tweak Benedict there, but it seemed old habits died hard.
Benedict’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t quite smile. Then his mouth went flat again, and he pulled in a breath. “The more I think about it, the more I realize I probably wasn’t hard enough on you before. And I’ve been too hard on you since you came back. You’re a grown man; you can decide if you want to see her or not. As long as Lil is happy with your work, that’s all I care about.”
Wow, that was… Benedict was almost admitting he’d been wrong. That was almost an apology.
But it was enough to make Josh’s breath clog in his throat. Benedict admitted he’d misjudged Josh—and Josh had done the same to him.
“That’s not true,” Josh said in a low tone. “You’re my brother. A hard-ass, yes, but you steered this ranch and this family for a long time.” That was a lot of weight to carry on those shoulders. Josh understood that. “I care about your opinion. I want to earn your respect.”
If Benedict could confess he’d been wrong, Josh could confess that.
Benedict moved as if to come closer but then seemed to catch himself. He cleared his throat. “Well, I won’t pretend I’m ready to hug it out, but yeah, I’d like to move past this into something better. Despite what you all think, I don’t always want to be riding your asses.”
Benedict stared at the ground as he said that, his stance rigid and uneasy.
Suddenly Josh felt sorry for his oldest brother, stuck with the responsibility of always being in charge, always being the responsible one, the entire weight of the family’s future yoked around his shoulders.
“I’d like that too,” Josh said. “But that doesn’t change my mind. If Leonora and I don’t have a future together, I don’t think I can stay in Cabrillo.”
“I understand. If I didn’t have Pilar…”
Benedict didn’t have to finish that. Josh could tell exactly how he felt about Pilar in the way his voice died.
“You understand then, why I have to see her. At least one last time.”
That hadn’t even been close to a question, but Benedict nodded anyway. “So when are you going to go talk to her?
“I don’t know. She hasn’t contacted me. Not yet.” Josh looked around at the house and barn, so well kept by Hank. “I suppose I should quit hanging around here, waiting for her to call, and find myself a job.”
“But you do have a job,” Benedict said as if it were completely obvious. “I’m giving you yours back.”
Josh blinked at him and then ground his teeth. “You might have said that at the beginning.”
“Might have.” Now Benedict smiled. “But I’ve got some gray hairs here that you owe me for. So I’m gonna take it out on you when I can.”
Josh laughed softly. “Fair enough, I guess.”
That moment held between them, happy, teasing, warm, and Josh could see a way forward for him and Benedict. Finally.
His phone buzzed. And buzzed again.
Josh fished it out of his back pocket, his pulse rattling hard enough through his veins to make his hand shake. He couldn’t get too hopeful here. It might not be Leonora. It could be Lil, or Luke, or even his parents. Most likely it was one of them.
Only it wasn’t. There, in glowing letters on the screen, was a message from her. To him. Finally, she was reaching out to him.
I’m here at my parents’, waiting for you. Are you coming?
As he read it, as the implications of it sank in—she needed him—another message came through from her.
We have to do this right this time.
Little did she know, he was already doing that with Benedict. But Josh would explain it all when he saw her.
“What is it?” Benedict asked.
Josh looked up from the phone and smiled. “Do you think you could take me into town? I’ve got to go see about a girl.”
This time when Leonora woke up there was no panic—she knew exactly where she was. But she ought to since this was her childhood bedroom.
She checked the bedside clock, then groaned. She’d slept the entire night and most of the day. That stupid sleeping pill the neurologist had given her had knocked her out.
“Just a little pill so you can get some rest,” Dr. Kurtbay had said. “Good sleep hygiene is important.”
The doctor had also said that she was perfectly fine, that Josh had done the right thing in taking her to urgent care, and of course she didn’t need to move back home. As usual, the doctor’s office had been backed up, so the visit was hurried.
And her mother hadn’t seemed convinced by Dr. Kurtbay’s insistence that Leonora was fine. She’d been silent on the drive back. And Leonora was too tired to begin an argument then. The words would have come out all garbled if she had.
But after so many hours of sleep, Leonora was feeling like herself again.
She rolled over, looking for her clothes on the chair by the bed. And there was her cell phone, waiting on the chair for her.
It hadn’t been there last night. Someone must have left it there while she slept. Her mother? Jasmine? Leonora had no idea.
Perhaps it was a test. She could ignore it, never send Josh a message, and just fall back into her old life, like her family wanted.
But she wasn’t going to do that. Her family didn’t understand her at all if they thought she would.
She turned it on, waiting a few moments as the phone started. God, but it took forever to get going. Finally the home screen came up. And up popped a notification for a new text message.
She almost dropped her phone in her haste to read the message. When she did, she had to put a hand to her heart. It had been over twenty-four hours since Josh had sent it.
He’d said he’d wait for her. No mention of how long, but she knew it would be forever if necessary.
She wouldn’t make him wait a moment longer. He could come fetch her now, and they could return to their lives, so she sent a message saying that.
After a moment’s thought, she sent another message to him. Because this was the chance for the do-over they’d talked about. He’d understand.
She dressed, then slipped the phone into her pocket. It was time to finally speak with her mother. Like she ought to have done years ago.
She found her mother in the kitchen, chopping potatoes, carrots, and celery. A whole chicken sat in an oven bag, ready for roasting.
Her mother dropped the knife and came over to her. She put a hand to Leonora’s forehead. “How’s your head?”
Leonora wanted to pull away from her mother’s touch but held herself still. “I’m fine.”
Her mother’s hand dropped. “If you’re sure.”
“Mama, I know how I feel. And you heard the doctor: I’m perfectly fine.”
Her mother only shook her head as she picked up the knife again. So not even Dr. Kurtbay could convince her then.
Leonora steeled herself for what she was about to say next. “We need to talk about what happened the night of the accident.”
The motions of the knife in Mama’s hand slowed, then stilled. But she didn’t look up. “No, we don’t need to talk about that.”
“But we do. You need to know what really happened.”
Which Leonora herself never would have remembered if not for Josh. There’d been no buzz from her phone—he hadn’t texted her back yet.
But he would come for her. She knew he would. So she had to confess everything to her mother, make her mother understand as best as she could, before he came.
“I know exactly what happened.” Her mother took up the knife again, the snap of the blade loud and sharp against the cutting board. “He was too drunk to drive. He almost killed you.”
“He did almost kill me.” Leonora kept her voice soft, her words deliberate. She had to stay calm here, or else the words might slip away from her. “But you have to know: I insisted he drive that night.”
Mama only shook her head, the knife flashing as it slammed through a carrot. “I don’t believe that. You wouldn’t do that.”
“I did. Because I was just as drunk, just as reckless, as he was.” She took a shaky breath and searched for the correct words, because this next was the most important part of all. “Everything about me that you think is my injury—my impulsiveness, my temper—it’s all me. It always was. He reminded me of who I was before. He loves me because of it, not in spite of it.”
Her mother’s jaw set in that way that said she was gearing up for a protracted fight. “But you were the one who was so badly injured. You have no idea what it was like to see you afterward. I hope you never see something like that with your own children. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”
Guilt burned from Leonora’s throat to her belly. She did owe them a lot. And it wasn’t easy to take care of her, or at least it hadn’t been in those early months.
But she’d moved away from them, finished her degree, and was working on a career. She didn’t need care all the time.
“I know,” she explained. “And I’m so sorry I hurt you like that. But you have to understand, part of it was my fault. He wasn’t corrupting me. Everything we did, we did together.”
Her mother threw the knife down. “If that’s true, why were you the only one who was hurt?”
Leonora had asked herself that often during the long hours of her rehabilitation. But no answer ever came to her, so she’d stopped asking. “I don’t know why. But I do know you need to stop babying me. And you need to start listening.”
“I don’t baby you.” Mama’s hand curled into a fist on the counter, her head hanging low. “I just worry. And what do you mean, we don’t listen? We let you move in with Jasmine.”
That was Leonora’s cue to say how much she appreciated it. But suddenly her old rebelliousness reared its head, and she wanted to chisel away at all of it, including herself, until the old was smashed so that something new could take its place.
But she’d had enough destruction in her life, so she held that impulse in check. “I know. But I have plans beyond that. Lots of plans. Plans that involve library school.”
She didn’t know how many times she’d have to say that to her mother until she believed it, but Leonora was going to say it as many times as needed.
“I know that you’re set on going to LA, but do you really think it’s a good idea?” Her mother’s brow knit. “Especially after what just happened?”
“It’s what I need to do to make a career for myself. To move ahead in my life.”
Leonora heard herself getting petulant, but she couldn’t help it.
“Well, I can’t stop you.” But it was clear her mother wasn’t won over.
“About that…” Leonora squared her shoulders. “I have plans involving Josh too. Plans that you’ll have to honor as well.”
Her mother blinked at her for long moments. “You tell me that after what happened?” Her voice was sibilant with rage. “Fine, you’re partly responsible. Is that what you want to hear? But what about what I want to hear?” She drummed her fingers on the counter, her jaw tight. “When are you finally going to be done with that boy? How much more does he have to do to you before you’ll see sense?”
“Just because I don’t see things the same way you do doesn’t mean I’m not seeing sense.”
Leonora wouldn’t take this anymore, this questioning of everything she thought and felt. It was real, and it was hers—not her injury’s.
“Now sweetheart.” Her mother was trying for cajoling. “With your injury sometimes you don’t know what’s best for you.”
Leonora put a fist to her forehead, just below where her scar ended. “This has nothing to do with my injury. This is me making my decision, not some messed-up part of my brain. My anger is real, my feelings for him are real—everything inside this brain of mine is real. I know what parts work and which ones don’t—and the part involving him is just fine. I wish you all would finally accept me as I am today instead of how I was right after the accident.”
That was all she’d really ever wanted. That and Josh.
Her mother began to blink away tears. “Of course we accept you. We’ve always accepted you.”
The fracturing of her mother’s voice had Leonora blinking away tears of her own. “But I need more than what you’ve given me before. You need to trust me. Yes, I’ll always need you, but I need to make my own choices too. And you need to respect my choices.”
“And you choose him? After everything that’s happened? Over us?”
“It’s not either or. It never was.” She caught at her mother’s hand, the same hand that had soothed her all those long months of recovery. “And it can’t be. We can’t do this alone. It has to be us, me and Josh… and you. And Daddy. And Jackson and Jasmine. And his family too. Josh and I want to be together. But this last incident proved that we need all of you to be with us too. We can’t be together without our families being behind us.”
Her mother put her hand to her throat. “That’s asking for a lot, for us to accept him.”
“I know.” Leonora squeezed her hand. “But, well, I loved him before the accident. And when he came back… I fell in love with him again.” This was too open, too raw to confess to her mother, but she had to make her see. “He knows me… he knows me like nobody else. Like nobody ever will. We thought before that it could just be the two of us against the world. But we know now that it can’t be. That we need your love and support to make it. That’s why I’m asking you for it.”
Her mother’s expression softened even as her fingers tightened on Leonora’s. “And if we say no? If we don’t agree to support you as you throw your life away on him again?”
Leonora had no ultimatum for that, no threat to toss back at her mother. And she didn’t want to. “I’m asking you to say yes. Not for him, but for me.”
Her mother said nothing, but she hadn’t said no, so Leonora pressed on. “I’m so much more different than I was before. I finished school, I have a job, I’ve settled in myself. But deep down, the same Leonora is still here. Just older, a little wiser, a little more battered. And he’s the same. Older, wiser, a little more battered—but deep down, the boy I fell in love with is still there. These past five years have burned away the tarnish. We’re golden now.”
Her mother took a shuddering breath and then another. Her free hand covered her mouth, her fingertips digging deep into her cheeks. But she didn’t pull her hand from Leonora’s grasp.
“Baby girl,” she said between her fingers, “I do trust you. And I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. I hold you close because I worry. Not because I think you’re incapable.”
“I know, Mama.” Leonora pulled her mother into her arms then and buried her face in her shoulder. “And I love that you want to hold me close. But let me choose who I hold close in turn.”
They held each other for long moments, the tears silently slipping down their cheeks.
“I’ve got to think on this,” her mother said finally. “This would be a big step, for all of us.”
Leonora smiled wistfully. “That’s fair.”
A knock came at the front door then, fast and sharp. Almost eager.
Leonora recognized that knock.
She released her mother, feeling her expression open like a flower. Her mother didn’t smile, but did nod in encouragement.
Leonora raced to the front door. When she opened it, Josh was on the porch, smiling at her.
“Hey,” he said. “I figured I’d find you here.”