by Liz Isaacson
Blue Velvet barked, and Patsy looked up to find the pretty dog bounding toward her, a ball already in her mouth.
Patsy started to laugh as the dog slowed to a trot, her whole body waving back and forth as she approached. “Hey, girl,” she said, reaching down to pat the dog. Blue went right between her legs, and Patsy continued to giggle as she looked up to find her master.
Cy stood at the bottom of the front steps, a completely passive look on his face, his arms folded.
Patsy swallowed, the smile slipping from her face as her giggles dried up. She gripped the folder like it was a shield and stepped toward him.
He looked amazing—exactly how she imagined him before she fell asleep at night. His hair had grown out in the past three weeks, and she wanted to run her fingers through it as she cut it. As she kissed him.
He wore a pair of jeans, a pair of boots, and a dark gray T-shirt with the word Hammond across the chest. She wasn’t sure where someone would even get a shirt with their surname on it, but Cy obviously knew, and he wore it well.
“Hey,” she said as she drew a little closer. She cleared her throat. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Yes,” he said, and Patsy took that as a good sign. She wasn’t sure if it was that one word or the fact that Cy unfolded his arms, but Patsy suddenly felt buoyed and strong.
Ames and Sophia had given her a ton of advice. So had Beau and Lily. Lead with the most important thing first. Kiss him first. Apologize first. Explain everything first.
None of it mattered.
When faced with him, Patsy only had one thing to say.
“I love you, Cy Hammond.” Her voice broke on that darn last name. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. She started spelling complicated words like Mississippi and lieutenant to force herself to focus.
She extended the folder toward him, but he didn’t move to take it. “I love you so much that every moment without you is complete agony.” She drew in a breath, already committed. “I’m sorry I didn’t try. I’m sorry I was selfish. I’m sorry I didn’t just let you shower me with gifts.”
He held up one hand, his dark eyes firing things at her she couldn’t interpret. He took the folder silently and opened it. He wasn’t stupid, and he dealt with a lot of contracts and sales forms.
It didn’t take him long to read the first paragraph, where everything was outlined. Her name as the buyer. His as the seller.
The contract between them that would literally be sealed with a kiss.
He looked up, something new in his expression now. To Patsy, it looked like hope. She felt it gathering way down deep in the soles of her feet.
“I love the motorcycle,” she said, gesturing to it behind her. “And I love what you’ve done with the yard here, and I can’t wait to see what you did inside with that accent wall you hadn’t finished.” She swallowed aware that he had still only said one word to her.
“Ames and Beau taught me a little bit about riding. I’m not as good as you, and the weather is almost getting too bad to ride, but I was hoping you’d do a few things for me.”
He closed the folder and tucked it under his arm. “What are they?”
“Sell me the fifteen acres you’re not using.” She drew in a long breath. “Find a way to forgive me. Doesn’t have to be right now. I know stuff like that takes time.” Patsy knew better than most, in fact. She was still working on forgiving Betty, and every time she found another nest of snakes she had to sort through, her resentment for her sister came roaring right back.
“Give us a second chance,” she continued. “And go riding with me.” She looked down at her fingers as if she were in kindergarten and couldn’t do simple math. “Four things.”
He held up one finger. “Sell you the land I bought. Forgive you. Give us a second chance. Go riding.” By the end, he had four fingers up.
“Yes.” She lifted her chin while he lowered his. “I know it’s a lot. I know that. I just…miss you so much, and I really don’t want to try to figure out how to stop. I get it if I was too selfish. If you just can’t. I’ll do my—”
“Stop,” he said, though his voice wasn’t loud or demanding. He looked up at her, and in the next moment, he’d taken three steps and closed the distance between them. “I can do all of that,” he whispered, taking her right into his arms as if she hadn’t spent a moment out of them. “Because I love you, too, Patsy.”
She melted into the strength and warmth of his arms, and nothing had ever felt so good. So much like coming home. She clung to him with every ounce of strength she had—mental and physical—and cried against his chest.
Thankfully, that didn’t last very long, and she stepped back. Cy smiled tenderly at her and wiped her face for her. “I’m sorry too. I wasn’t very nice to you. I’m different now.”
“Ames mentioned some medication.”
Something hot flashed in Cy’s eyes. “Yes,” was all he said. “I’m not as beastly anymore.”
“I never minded your beast,” she admitted.
“Oh, you did,” he said. “There at the end. He was cruel.”
Patsy shrugged, though his words had carved scars through her soul—but only because he’d been right.
“I’m sorry for that,” he said. “I’m not going to be perfect. But I’m going to try to do the best I can, I can promise you that.”
She nodded. “And I’ll take any gift you want to give me.”
He chuckled and cupped her face in his hands. “Let’s get these orchards where they belong.” With that, he leaned down and kissed her, and Patsy had never been more grateful for the gift of forgiveness than she was in that single second.
Chapter Thirty-One
Everything had settled in Cy the moment he saw Patsy. And kissing her? Cy once again didn’t recognize himself at all. He was a completely new person while kissing her. She healed so much inside of him that was so broken.
“I love you,” he whispered, and the best part was when she whispered it back.
Blue barked, and that got Cy to look away from the blonde who’d captured his attention so completely last Christmas. He looked out into the orchard where Blue was staring, but it was too dark to see anything.
“Come on,” he called to the dog, glad when she came trotting over to them. “Get your ball, and let’s go inside. Maybe Patsy’s hungry.” He looked at her, hardly able to believe she was here. He’d spoken to Ames earlier that afternoon, and Cy had outlined his plans to go talk to Patsy this weekend.
They’d talked through everything, and never in a million years had he imagined the woman of his dreams to come riding up on the motorcycle he’d built for her.
Wow, what a sight that had been.
She was so sexy, and so strong, and so perfect for him.
Cy opened his front door, glad he’d hired a housekeeper to keep the floor at least semi-clean. Annalise did an amazing job every Wednesday making the house smell less like grease and more like a real human lived there.
“Wow,” Patsy said, glancing around. “The rugs are new. Those curtains are much better than those others you had.” She turned toward him, her beautiful face glowing with light. Cy wanted to kiss her again, so he turned toward her, a smile passing through his whole soul. He touched his lips to hers sweetly, in complete awe that he even could.
“It was Ames who clued me in to the curtains,” Cy said as he straightened. “They are better. I like them, and I actually put something in the oven a few minutes ago.” He could smell the cornbread that would go perfectly with the chili Bree had dropped off forty minutes ago. Cy hadn’t wanted to take it, but Patsy had been there in his mind, and he’d accepted the pot with the food in it.
Cy wasn’t particularly skilled in the kitchen, but Ames had stocked his pantry with boxed mixes, and Cy could add eggs and water and oil to a mix. He wasn’t completely useless.
“I love the windows here,” Patsy said. “It’s so bright. My house is so dark.”
“It’s just older,�
�� Cy said, threading his fingers through hers and leading her further into the house. He loved the open concept of it, and that he had plenty of room to entertain—not that he did a lot of that. But he could. He could have the entire Hammond family over, and everyone would have a place to sit in the living room and at the dining table.
He took Patsy past that and into the kitchen. “Don’t get too excited. I made a boxed cornbread mix. Bree brought over some chili.”
“Sounds like perfect fall food,” Patsy said, squeezing his hand. “Have…Has your family been bringing you a lot of food?”
Cy glanced at her, sure he heard something pinched in her voice. He didn’t want to tell her about the babysitters, but if she’d been hanging out with Ames—and it sounded like she had been—she probably already knew.
“Yeah,” he said. “Or they invite me over. Annie’s daughter has been taking a culinary class, and she’s been testing her new recipes. We’ve been tasting them.” He faced the stove, which wasn’t on. The pot just sat there. “Or Bree brings me something. I order in while Wes and I watch college football on TV. He brings Mikey, and that baby is the cutest thing ever.”
Cy realized he was talking too much, but it felt good not to be talking about how he felt. Or about how his latest thoughtfulness exercise had gone. Or confirming for his mother that yes, he was taking vitamin D now that winter was approaching. Or trying to convince everyone that he was okay.
He was okay.
“I’m in therapy,” he blurted when Patsy didn’t say anything. “And I’m taking an anti-psychotic.” He pulled his hand away and tucked both of his into his pockets. “And a variety of other vitamins with a lot of letters.” He tossed a smile and a glance her way, but he didn’t truly look at her. He didn’t want to see the judgment.
“That’s great, Cy.” Patsy moved in front of him, and all of that judgment he expected to see, he couldn’t find. “Do you like going to therapy?”
He shrugged and looked at the timer on the oven. Five minutes until it would go off. He could have this conversation for five minutes. “It’s not terrible,” he said. “I’m down to twice a week, and my therapist says after this week, I can just come in once a week. Then once a month. Then as needed.” He inhaled deeply and exhaled all the air out.
“And the drugs?” Patsy ran one hand up his chest, which made every muscle in Cy’s body tense. “How are they?”
Cy looked at her then—right into her eyes. Hers were so bright, and so blue, and so filled with nothing but compassion and acceptance.
“I know you didn’t want them before,” she said. “And I feel like I need to know, Cy.”
“Of course you do,” he said. “I hated them at first. The dose was too high. I was living behind this thick, frosted glass.” Cy’s memory flowed back, and he really didn’t remember much of that first week. “Then we changed the dosage, and things got better. We changed it again, and I think we’ve found a good spot.”
“What happens if you don’t take them?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t forgotten to take them.”
“You’re not exactly the most routine person in the world,” she said, smiling. “Are you telling me your type-A brother doesn’t text you every morning about the pills?”
Cy chuckled and shook his head. “He doesn’t. I set an alarm on my phone.” He reached back and pulled it out of his pocket. “I have an alarm for everything now, Patsy. That way, I don’t have to hold so much in my head. I don’t have to think so hard about literally everything.”
He handed her the phone, and Patsy just looked at the dark screen.
“I’m going to hire a shop manager,” he said. “I need to be able to just get on a bike and get away sometimes, and I can’t do that without someone to run the shop.”
Regret crossed her face, and that was the last thing Cy wanted. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t,” he said. “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. It’s just that I couldn’t find anyone in March, but I have to look harder. There has to be someone who can run the shop.”
“What about moving one of your existing people into the role?” she asked. “Marissa, for example. She’s been with you a long time. She knows how the operation runs. She moved here to keep working for you.” Patsy fell back a couple of steps, a certain level of anxiety in her eyes. “Why can’t she manage the shop?”
“Marissa.” Cy rolled the name around inside his mind. “Why haven’t I thought of that before?”
“Probably because then you’d have to replace her, and well, she’s irreplaceable.”
The stars were definitely aligning. “But it would be easier to hire a secretary and have Marissa train her than hire a shop manager and have to train that person.”
“Yeah.” Patsy turned as the timer went off on the cornbread. “I’ll get that.”
Cy watched her work in his kitchen, opening a couple of drawers before she found the oven mitts. She bent and took the cornbread out, and Cy had a moment where he was back behind the waxed paper again.
This just didn’t seem real. Was she really here?
She turned to face him, and Cy’s reality came roaring back. His natural reaction when he looked at Patsy was to smile, and he found himself doing that. “Thanks. Did you eat already?”
“No,” she said.
“All right, then,” he said. “Let’s do that, and then I can show you what I was planning to do to get you back.”
Patsy had started to turn, but she stilled. “What? You were going to…? What were you going to do?”
“It’s a surprise,” Cy said with a smile, stepping into the kitchen with her and getting down a couple of bowls from the cupboard. “Spoons in the drawer on the right of the island there.”
She opened that drawer and took out two spoons.
“Listen, I know we just got back together and all of that,” Cy said, opening another drawer and taking out a ladle. As he filled one bowl with chili, he asked, “Do you want kids, Patsy?” He glanced over his shoulder to her, noting that she’d once again frozen.
He quickly turned back to the pot. “Because I’m in love with Mikey, and I want a whole bunch of little boys like him.” He put down the full bowl and reached for the empty one.
“You can’t guarantee you’ll get boys, you know.” She came up beside him and leaned into his bicep, and Cy paused too. The moment lengthened, and Cy wished he could get a picture of it to remind him of how wonderful it was to have Patsy here with him.
“I’ve heard,” he said. “But I suppose girls would be okay too. I just don’t know what to do with them.”
“The same thing you do with boys.”
Cy started laughing and finished filling the second bowl. He turned and put both of them on the counter. “That’s not true, Pats. I have only brothers. Wes has a son. Gray has Hunter. All we know in the Hammond family is boys.”
“You think a girl wouldn’t like horseback riding? Or working around the ranch? Or taking over the family company and the penthouse on the top floor?”
“I’m not saying a girl wouldn’t like that or do any of that,” Cy said. “What I’m saying is I don’t know anything about girls. They…scare me a little.”
Patsy burst out laughing, and Cy sure did like that. The sound of it had been sorely missed in his life, and he hooked his arm around her waist. “That’s why you have a wife,” she said, still giggling. “Believe it or not, I’m a girl.”
“Oh, I know it,” Cy said, gazing down at her. The moment sobered, and Cy couldn’t keep the question contained. “And you think…me and you…you’ll be my wife and I’ll be your husband?”
Patsy nodded slowly. “I think that’s the next step, Cy. When two people fall in love, and they want to build a life together.”
“And that’s what you want?”
“Yes,” she said, not a moment of hesitation. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” he said. “Absolutely. I’m sort of shocked. I just need
to absorb it all.”
“Let’s eat while you absorb,” she said. “And I can’t wait to see what you were going to do.”
Nerves ran through him, but they were fleeting and barely there. He could handle these low emotions, and he thanked the Lord for modern medicine. “I’ll get the honey for the cornbread. You cut that up for us.”
“Deal.”
An hour later, Cy handed Patsy her helmet and said, “You think you can ride behind me?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Patsy said. “I’m a little nervous. When it’s just me, I can blame myself if I fall.”
“I won’t let us fall,” Cy said as he walked toward his motorcycle. He threw his leg over and waited for Patsy to get settled behind him. “The key, sweetheart, is to press right into my back and just do what I do.”
She snaked her hands around him, and Cy actually looked down to make sure she was real. “Like this?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice sticking in his throat. “Like that.”
“How far do we have to go?”
“Just into town,” he said. “I’ve rented a welding shop off-site, so I can get out of the bike shop sometimes. Get away from the trees.”
“You don’t like the trees?”
“I love them,” he said. “I just need a change of scenery from time to time. After a while, it feels like the whole world is only made of apple trees.”
Patsy giggled, and Cy was glad he hadn’t said something to upset her. Her whole world was apple trees. He normally didn’t mind them, but he did need to get away sometimes.
He enjoyed the ride down the lane to the highway, and the curvy drive to town had never been so fun. He pulled in to a barely-there parking lot behind the library, where a row of shops was hidden in front of a stand of trees.
He’d rented the whole row, though there were four available. He just wanted to come here and be alone.
“These are air conditioned and heated,” he said. “I rented them all. I keep an office here, and all my welding stuff, and I may have bought a recliner and a television so I can just zone out if I need to.”
