Jill sat on the couch eating one of the blueberry scones Sawyer had left outside her door yesterday. It had been her birthday. She didn’t feel like celebrating then or now. Didn’t feel much like doing anything. Other than eating the scone. Surprising since she hadn’t felt like eating anything since she’d lost the baby. She waited for the tears and anger to come at the memory of that day. All she felt was…numb.
She supposed that was an improvement. Feeling nothing was better than dealing with the crippling emotions—the guilt and heartbreak—of the past two weeks. But somehow she had to find a way to move on. Or at the very least to pretend she was. She hadn’t been out of her apartment since the night Grace had brought her home. Hadn’t talked to anyone or responded to their texts or calls. She’d crawled inside herself and stayed there. But Gage would be understanding for only so long. She couldn’t afford to lose her job on top of everything else.
At the sound of someone knocking on her apartment door, she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to face Sawyer. Didn’t want to see the pain and confusion in his eyes. The accusation he’d tried to hide. Didn’t want to remember the days and nights they’d spent together. How close she’d come to having her dreams come true. The only thing that had been missing was his love.
Real love. True love.
He may have said the words, but he didn’t mean them. If he did, he would have told her the night he proposed. He’d had two chances. His second proposal had been more telling than the first. It had been all about the baby. And the baby was gone.
The pain hit her like a shot in the dark, leaving her gasping for air and her chest aching. And for the first time she acknowledged that her heartbreak was not only about losing the baby but for the loss of Sawyer as well. But she didn’t have a chance to fall apart because someone was knocking on her living room window. Her eyes shot open to see Ty standing on her deck with his hands cupped to the glass, peering in at her. His eyes bugged out behind his glasses before he covered his reaction to what she imagined was her sorry-ass self.
“Jilly Bean, I need your help. Nell’s going to ruin Cat and Grayson’s wedding,” he yelled through the window.
They weren’t getting married until the twenty-fourth, she thought with a frown. It couldn’t be…It was the twenty-fourth. She placed the scone on the coffee table and pushed to her feet, mentally preparing herself for Ty’s sympathy and condolences. It’s what she’d been avoiding. In the beginning, she’d tried to pretend the doctors were wrong. That her child was still safe and growing inside her. She’d held onto the fantasy as long as she could.
She opened the sliding door. “Are you crazy? You could have fallen and broken a leg.”
“I know.” He checked behind him. “Or ripped my pants.” Then he gave her a quick up-and-down look—not doing a very good job hiding his shudder—and put his hands on his narrow hips. “And it would have been your fault. Next time, answer your door. Go hop in the shower; we’re losing precious time. Wedding’s in five hours.”
She sighed as he walked past her. “Stop sniffing me. I don’t smell. And I’m not going anywhere,” she said, closing the door behind him.
“Ah, yes you are. You promised last month, and I need you to deal with Nell. She replaced the beautiful crystal glasses I ordered from the supplier with…mason jars.” He scrunched up his face and raised his hands. “Who does that? We better hurry before she wrecks my vision for the big day. And I still have four heads of hair to do.”
“Ty, I’m not—”
He put his hands on her shoulders, the sympathy she’d been grateful he hadn’t offered shining in his eyes. “Your little girl would have been as beautiful and as strong as her mama. You are strong, Jilly Bean. You’ll get there, but not by hiding away in your apartment.”
She bowed her head, a tear rolling down her cheek before she could stop it. Her throat tightened painfully. She’d needed to know if she’d been carrying a boy or a girl. Though over the past week, she’d sometimes regretted that she’d asked Dr. Evans to do the test. And even as a spurt of anger flared inside her at Ty’s accusation that she was hiding in her apartment, she knew he was right.
“I’d give you a hug, but I think I’ll wait until you’ve had a shower,” he teased, ignoring her show of emotion as he turned her toward the bedroom.
“I’ll go, but I’m not staying for the wedding,” she said as she reached the doorway.
“Oh, dear God,” he said, surveying her room. “You get in the shower, and I’ll take care of”—he waved his hand—“this.”
“You don’t have to clean my—”
“Go,” he ordered, pointing to the bathroom door.
As she stood in the shower, some of the tension and pain she’d kept bottled up inside swirled down the drain. Ten minutes later, when she turned off the water, she could hear Ty talking to himself in her bedroom in his typical dramatic fashion—several oh, my Gods followed by clapping. A rusty laugh escaped from her mouth, startling her. She’d thought it would take months before she felt like laughing again. Ty flung open the door before the small pang of guilt took hold.
“Ty, I could have been naked!” She scowled at him as she tightened the towel around her chest, steam billowing around them. Her bedroom was freezing. She glanced beyond him. Her window was wide open, the wooden blinds billowing and clacking.
“We have to hurry.” He dragged her out of the bathroom. “Chloe decided she wants an updo instead of wearing her hair down. She’s such a drama queen. Now I have both her and Nell to deal with. Thank God, I have you. Get dressed and don’t forget your gun. Two hawks were circling the tent this morning.”
“I’m not shooting a hawk, so you can forget about me bringing my gun. Besides, the wedding’s at five; they won’t be around by then.” She looked around her room, which was spotless. There was fresh bedding on her bed and a vase of orange chrysanthemums on her nightstand. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do…” She tilted her head. “My neighbor had a pot of those on her deck. Did you steal them?”
“Maybe.” He grinned and shoved a dress in her hands.
It was the red dress she’d worn to the bar. She cleared her throat. “I told you. I’m not staying for the wedding.” She turned, grabbing a pair of jeans and a hoodie from her closet.
* * *
She shouldn’t have let Ty talk her into coming, Jill thought as they drove through the decorated wrought-iron gates of the O’Connor ranch. Of the eight vehicles parked in the circular drive, she recognized seven of them. But Ty had taken a cab to her place so she’d had to drive him here. Didn’t mean she had to stay though.
“I don’t believe her,” Ty muttered, ordering Jill to stop the Jeep. She’d barely pulled to the side of the driveway when he jumped out to rip orange bows from the gates. He tossed them in the backseat. “Might as well park here,” he said.
That suited Jill. Less likely that someone would block her escape. She locked the Jeep and joined him on the walk up the circular drive to the elegant stone bungalow. “Oh good God, I’m afraid to see what else she’s gotten up to,” he said when they reached the dark Spanish-style double doors, ripping off heart-shaped yellow wreaths fastened with orange ribbon to the doors. “I swear the woman is color blind.”
“They’re not bad, Ty.”
“The color scheme is aubergine and cream, Jilly Bean. Not yellow and orange.” He looked around the front porch, made a face, then removed two tasteful wreaths from behind the large planters that held branches decorated in white lights. The wreaths, obviously Ty’s handiwork, were made up of cream tulle and elegant deep purple flowers. He looked at her as he stuck them on the door. “I’m counting on you to keep her busy while I’m finishing up the bridal party’s hair and makeup. Check the barn to make sure she hasn’t been adding more of her special touches in there,” he said as he opened the door.
Jill didn’t understand what Nell would be doing in the barn until she remembered Chloe telling her—with a sniff of her small upturned nose—that both the dinner and reception were being held there. Not the barn that housed the horses of course. When they walked into the foyer to discover more of Nell’s special touches, Jill figured she should have brought a pair of handcuffs with her. Ty looked ready to commit murder.
Feminine laughter greeted them as they walked toward the kitchen. Jill rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans when she recognized Grace’s, Madison’s, and Skye’s voices. She was just about to tell Ty she’d head to the barn when she made out their conversation.
“Poor Gage, he was running all over town last night trying to find me dill pickles. It must be a girl. I never had cravings with Connor,” Madison said.
“I’m pretty sure I’m having a boy. I was never this sick with Evie,” Skye said. “Delivery day can’t come soon enough. Are you feeling better, Grace?”
“Much better, thanks. I could do without the heartburn though. But if I end up with a little girl with her daddy’s gorgeous head of…Why are you both—” She broke off and turned around. Her face fell. “Oh, Jill sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…We didn’t know you were there. We never—”
Jill curled her fingers at her sides, her nails stabbing her palms as a wave of anger and hurt rushed through her. It was so unfair. They already had beautiful babies. Why couldn’t she have just one? All she wanted was one. A happy baby girl with her daddy’s gorgeous hair and eyes. What did she do wrong? Didn’t she deserve to be happy, too? Hadn’t her life been crappy enough growing up with a mother who didn’t love her enough to stick around, a grandmother who didn’t want her, and then a man who only wanted her because of the baby she carried.
She dug her nails so hard into her palms she was sure she drew blood. “Don’t worry about it,” she said in a voice devoid of emotion, even though she was practically seething with it. “I’ll head to the barn, Ty.” She turned and walked away without looking at the women.
“Jill, wait.” Grace came after her. “Please, wait.”
She stopped at the mudroom door, staring out at a stand of aspen trees. Their ghostly branches were almost barren of leaves. She’d always loved this time of year; now it just reminded her of death. She’d felt the same as a little girl, but she’d grown past it as a teenager. Now here she was full circle.
“I’m so sorry, Jill. The last thing I want to do is remind—”
“Yeah, well, that’ll be a little tough seeing as you’re pregnant and I’m not. Maybe you guys should think about how lucky you are instead of complaining about a little heartburn and morning sickness,” she said, shoving the door open and letting it slam behind her. She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. But it didn’t make them any less true. And she didn’t know if she could face Grace and apologize. She would, just not now. She had to get out of there. She heard the mudroom door open behind her as she headed for the front of the house.
“Jill, wait.”
She bowed her head at the sound of the familiar voice, then glanced over her shoulder. “Nell, I can’t stay. I—” She broke off at the look of sympathy and understanding on the older woman’s face.
“Come with me, girlie. We need to talk. Just you and me.”
Maybe because what Jill needed most these past couple of weeks wasn’t a friend, or a brother, or a lover, but a mother, she nodded. They walked in silence across the yard. Nell stopped at the small bridge that separated the O’Connors’ home from the barns and outbuildings. She leaned on the railing, patting the spot beside her. They stood there for a few moments listening to the gurgle of the stream beneath them before Nell broke the silence. “You see those rocks?”
Jill nodded, and Nell continued, “They’re like us, girlie. The water’s our troubles. Over time, if it finds its way into the cracks, freezes, and expands, the rocks weaken and break apart. But you heal those cracks and it smooths over the hard edges and ridges, and makes you stronger.”
“I feel like God’s punishing me, Nell. That I did something so horrible I’m not meant to be happy.”
“Your grandmother was a friend, but that doesn’t mean I always agreed with her or how she raised you kids. Told Jack the same thing. She’d get some damn fool notions in her head, and I can see she put them in yours.” She shifted and looked at Jill. “You were a parent, not for long, but you were. You may not have held your baby girl in your arms, but you held her in your heart. If you could, would you have done everything in your power to protect her?”
“Of course. Of course I would.”
“So why wouldn’t God do the same for you? He doesn’t make bad things happen, Jill. They just do. That’s life. But he’s there to lift you up, to show you a way through the difficult times. He puts people in your life who will do the same. If you let Him, and them. Last thing those women in there meant to do was hurt you. Gracie would cut off her arm for you. But you know that, don’t you? We’ve all seen our share of troubles, Gracie, Skye, Maddie, Liz, Chloe, and Cat. Not anyone in this town who hasn’t. Look at your brother.”
Jill closed her eyes. Nell was right. No one knew that better than her. Compared to what some of them had suffered, her loss must seem insignificant in comparison. They hadn’t hidden away like she had. They’d dealt with their pain head-on. They were stronger for it, too. The thought wasn’t helpful. It brought back the old feelings that she was not enough. Not strong enough. Not good enough.
“No, don’t go comparing what you’ve suffered to anyone else. You’re entitled to your grief. Everyone deals with their sorrow differently. One way’s no better than the other. I’m just saying that everyone in there, everyone in town, can empathize with your pain. They’re here for you. Just tell us what you need. You have a lot of folks who love you, girlie. You just have to let us in. Sawyer, too. Men don’t show it like we do, but he’s hurting, too.”
“I can’t, Nell. You don’t know him like I do. It’s better this way.”
“Take it from me, I learned the hard way, Jill. Don’t shut him out. You don’t let him back in, he’ll move on.”
“Are you talking about Calder?”
Nell nodded. “I got pregnant when I was seventeen. Last year of high school, it was early June. I’d never been as scared and angry as I was the day I found out. Couldn’t tell anyone, not in those days. It was worse because of our parents. They didn’t want us to see each other, but we were in love. We’d talked about Calder coming with me when I left for school. We’d get married, start a life away from Christmas. And then I found out I was pregnant.”
She looked down at the water splashing against the rocks. “I was furious at him, blamed him for the baby as if I hadn’t played any part in it. And then in late August I woke up in the middle of the night to god-awful cramps and my sheets soaked with blood. I’d lost the baby. Just as I had become accustomed to the idea of having one, I lost it. I thought God was punishing me, too.”
Jill stared at Nell as though seeing her for the first time. “What did you do? Did your parents find out?”
“No. I got myself cleaned up as best as I could. Changed the bed, then rolled up the sheets and went out in the backyard and buried them. The baby, too, I guess. Two days later, I went off to college. Didn’t say good-bye to Calder, just left. Felt a lot like I imagine you did these past couple weeks. But I didn’t have anyone. Not many women went to college in my day, so I had lots of time to think, and I came to realize how unfair I’d been to Calder. How much I missed him.” She lifted a shoulder. “How much I loved him. Planned to tell him when I came home on the Christmas break. First thing my mother says to me when I walk in the door is that no-good Dane boy is getting married.”
“I’m so sorry, Nell. I don’t know how you dealt with it all by yourself.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing the past two weeks?”
“It’s not the same. You didn’t have anyone to turn to. My God, Nell, you took care of everything by yourself. And you were so young.” Jill squeezed her hand. She couldn’t imagine what that would have been like.
“If I’d let him, Calder would have been there for me. So would Stella and Evelyn and Ted and Fred. Though they probably would have killed Calder.”
“Why didn’t you go to him that Christmas? Tell him that you loved him.”
She gave her a sad smile. “I did, but it was too late. Calder’s a lot like Sawyer. He’s a good man, an honorable one. He didn’t want to hurt Meredith. And in his own way he loved her. They had a happy marriage. Raised two fine sons and a daughter and had a passel of grandchildren.”
And Nell ended up alone.
“I know what you’re thinking, Jill. But I’ve had a good life. You don’t have to grow a child in your belly to love it or to be loved in return. I’ve had that with Paul and the boys. Maddie and the girls. You should know that. You’ve had the same with little Jack.”
Jill’s eyes filled. She couldn’t speak so she nodded. It took a moment for the muscles in her throat to relax. She swiped at her eyes and looked at Nell. “You could still have your happy ever after, Nell. I’ve seen the way Calder looks at you.”
“And I’ve seen the way Sawyer looks at you.”
“He doesn’t love me. He’s doing what Calder did with Meredith. He’s doing the honorable thing.”
“So the man buys you a house, asks you to marry him, shows up at your apartment every day for two weeks to bring you food and flowers because he’s being honorable?” She laughed and shook her head. “And here I thought your generation was supposed to be smarter than ours.”
“Nell, I said white votive bags along the aisle, not pumpkins,” Ty yelled, gesticulating wildly from where he stood in front of the tree where Cat and Grayson would be married.
“Halloween’s a week away. You have to have pumpkins,” Nell yelled back at him. “Now come on, I want to show you what I’ve done to the barn.”
“Thank you, Nell. Your talk, saying what you did, it meant a lot to me,” she said, hugging the older woman. “It helped.”
Nell patted her back. “Anytime. You always had your brother, then Sawyer, and Grace, so I didn’t think you needed me. I would have stuck my nose in long before this if I thought you did. You’re my people, too, Jill. Remember that.”
She smiled, her stupid throat closing up on her again. “I’ll just go help Ty, and I probably should go talk to Grace and the girls. I’ll see you in the barn in a few minutes.”
It took her several moments to calm Ty down about the pumpkins. She helped him replace them with the paper votive bags, then she went inside and apologized to Grace. Jill allowed the women to pull her into the wedding chatter and fun. She talked to Chloe for a bit and Cat, who looked stunning in a floor-length cream sheath wedding dress. Thanks to Nell’s talk, Jill was able to act like her normal self, even if she hadn’t quite gotten there yet. Her smiles were more fake than genuine. But she felt like she was taking a step in the right direction. Until she went to the barn to check on Nell.
Sawyer was setting up a bar in the far corner with Brandi. He had on a black suit, and Brandi had on a tight black lace dress that hit her mid-thigh. They were laughing. Jill didn’t know what hurt more, that they looked beautiful and happy together or that Sawyer was able to laugh. A natural, normal laugh. While all she could do was fake it. It didn’t seem fair, and worse, it seemed like he’d already gotten over the baby. And her.
As though he sensed her watching them, he glanced up. Jill left the barn. She heard him call her name and kept walking, stopping when he grabbed her arm.
“So that’s how it’s going to be? Every time you see me, you’re going to walk away?”
She slowly turned, keeping her eyes on his white shirt, the open button at the collar. “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I’m not good company right now. And you looked like you were having a good time.”
“Just because I was laughing doesn’t mean I don’t hurt, too, Jill. You don’t hold the monopoly on grief.” He blew out a breath and looked away. “I’ve been trying to reach you for two weeks. Two weeks…and nothing, not one word. I thought we had something. I thought you—”
“We had a baby together, and now we don’t.”
He searched her face, then gave her a curt nod. “I won’t bother you anymore,” he said and turned to walk away.
“Sawyer,” she practically yelled his name, the fear that she’d lost him for good coming out in her voice. She cringed at the needy, pleading tone. “Thank you for everything you did for me these last few weeks. I know it’s been hard for you, too. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I-I hope someone was.”
The light she saw in his eyes when she called him back faded. His face went hard. “Lots of people. Only not the one I wanted. But we don’t always get what we want, do we, Jill?”
* * *
The gorgeous blonde wrote her number on a napkin, then leaned over the makeshift bar and slid it into the pocket of Sawyer’s jacket. She took her time doing so and smiled up at him. “Call me anytime or drop by the set.” She was an actress who had a part in the movie with Chloe. They were filming in Aspen.
He nodded and gave her a smile. He’d already told her he wasn’t interested. But she was the type of woman who wouldn’t take no for answer. There’d been a couple of them tonight.
Jack approached the bar, turning to watch the woman walk away. He raised an eyebrow at Sawyer. “You wanna tell me why you’re letting women give you their numbers when you’re in love with my sister?”
His chest tightened at Jack’s mention of Jill. When he’d looked up to see her in the barn, all the anger and frustration he’d been feeling for the past two weeks vanished. He’d wanted to go to her, take her in his arms, and just hold on to her like he’d wanted to since the day they’d lost the baby. Thinking she’d come to apologize for shutting him out. To tell him they were going to be fine, that she loved him. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Don’t know why you care. Your sister sure as hell doesn’t.”
Jack winced. “You know Jill. She just needs some more time. Grace said she was here earlier. She overheard the girls talking about their pregnancies. It was hard on her. She was upset.”
His jaw clenched. “I know how she feels. What can I get you to drink?”
“Hey”—he touched Sawyer’s arm—“you think I don’t know it’s been hard on you, too? Who have you been hanging out with these past couple weeks? I get it, buddy. I do. But she was the one carrying the baby. It makes it more—”
He didn’t need Jack to remind him it was more difficult for Jill. He knew that. Knew what she was going through both mentally and physically. Matt had been by the bar a couple times to check up on him and explain things. “I didn’t just lose the baby, I lost Jill, too.”
“Come on, you haven’t lost her. Don’t give up on her. She loves you, and you love her.”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t see her. If she was ever in love with me, she isn’t now.” Since the night at his apartment, she hadn’t once told him she loved him. And he was beginning to doubt she ever did. “Think about it, Jack. If something like this happened to you and Grace, you’d pull together. It wouldn’t rip you apart.”
“I hear you, but it’s not the same. You guys got together because of the baby. And now—”
“There’s no reason to be. Jill said pretty much the same thing. She looks like hell, Jack. Her clothes are hanging off her. She’s looks like she’s lost twenty pounds. Her eyes are swallowing her face, and she’s pale. You and Grace have to make her let you in.” He’d been shocked when she turned to face him. He’d wanted to scoop her up in his arms and take her home and feed her. Kiss away the pain in her eyes.
“Or maybe you have to, Sawyer. You love her. If I didn’t think you did before, I know you do now.”
In every e-mail, in every text, he’d told Jill how much he loved her. He’d even bought her the damn house she wanted. He’d been working out there every chance he got in hopes they’d get back together. He’d run around buying stuff that he thought might make her smile, help her deal with the pain, and left them at her door like a lovesick schoolboy. “I gave it my best shot. It wasn’t good enough. I’m done.”