by Maisey Yates
“I don’t need you to go hard or easy on me. I made a decision. I did the best thing that I could.”
“The best thing that you could to what?”
“To keep myself safe,” Beatrix exploded. “I can’t go committing myself to a man who doesn’t know how to stay in one place. To a man who’s still so bound up in the idea of his glory days that the minute he gets a chance to recapture them he’s going to do it. Can you promise me that he won’t? You know him. He wants...he wants to feel important and someday I might not make him feel important. I don’t want to wait around for that day.”
“Bea, I know that it’s hard. I know that it’s hard to love when you’ve been through stuff. Trust me. But do you really want him to give absolutely everything up to be with you? I think he would. But he helped you realize all of your dreams. He helped you with the animal sanctuary. He might be able to have something for himself, and you don’t want him to have it?”
“No,” Bea said. “I do want him to have it. Of course I do. But...” She let out a harsh breath. “I didn’t ask him to give anything up.”
“No,” she said. “You just told him that you couldn’t trust him and broke up with him.”
“I just don’t understand why it needed to change. Everything was fine. Then he went and demanded things.”
“Because that’s love,” Lindy said. “It’s love to demand things. And to expect somebody to change for you. And to change for someone.”
“He didn’t say that he loved me.”
“Because he’s scared. And he needs to change too. But so do you. You can’t just live life in a burrow hoping to stay safe.”
“But I want to stay safe,” Beatrix said, her words small. “I need to stay safe. I just don’t want... I don’t want to be hurt again. You don’t understand. You don’t know.”
“We won’t unless you tell us.”
Her throat tightened, panic lancing her. “Sabrina,” Bea said, tears stinging her eyes. “I’m not... I’m not a Leighton.”
Her sister blinked and drew back. “What?”
“I’m not a Leighton. Jamison... He’s not my father. There is a man named Michael Fulsome and he is my father. He used to work at the winery.”
“I remember him. He had... He had red hair,” Sabrina said frowning.
“Yes,” Beatrix said. “He had red hair. And he was the only person who was like me. The only person I’d ever known. And Dad offered him money and paid him and sent him away. He...he left. He took money instead of staying and being my father.”
Sabrina looked pale, and visibly upset, and Bea felt terrified, because this was the thing she had been avoiding. Losing any kind of bond with her sister. To know that they didn’t share a father might change things, and that scared Bea to death. But...
Hiding wasn’t enough anymore. And keeping these things back was all part of hiding.
“I mean, I know a little something about Dad...Jamison...paying people money to go away.”
“I know that you do. But you have to understand. Jamison raised me like a daughter because he felt obligated to. And he resented me. He really did. You know he doesn’t have any real affection for me. He did it, and he gave me the trust fund and all of that to prove a point. Because it’s all part of this weird game that him and Mom play with each other. And he paid the person who loved me to leave. And that person didn’t love me more than he loved money. I’m no one’s choice. Certainly not their first choice.”
“Maybe it was complicated, Bea,” Sabrina said. “Maybe it wasn’t about him loving money more than you, but maybe he was really convinced that leaving you to the life that Dad said he could give you was the kinder thing to do.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” Sabrina said, “I don’t. But I do know that sometimes people leave for very complicated reasons. I actually had to forgive the person that Dad paid off to leave me, Bea, so don’t trick yourself into thinking that I don’t understand what you’ve been through. In a way I do. Liam... I’m married to him now. I love him. He really thought that my life would be better without him in it. And Dad offered him money to go to school. It was his chance to make a better life for himself while leaving me to a life that didn’t have him. And he really felt that that was the bigger kindness. Don’t you think that maybe Michael thought the bigger kindness was leaving you to your family? Don’t you think that he probably felt like the outsider? A man working at a vineyard trying to compete with Jamison Leighton?”
“But he... He was more important to me than money.”
“Bea, you’re so convinced that Dane would choose a life in the rodeo over you because you don’t think that you matter enough. You don’t think you matter more than that acclaim, than that glory. And you don’t think that maybe your father thought the same thing?”
“But it’s not fair. It’s not fair to me. He should’ve asked me... I would’ve told him that I loved him and that I...”
“Aren’t you angry at Dane because he didn’t ask you? How is it different?”
Beatrix suddenly felt hideously, horribly small. And she suddenly realized what a disservice she had done to Dane.
A tear tracked down her cheek, her body beginning to tremble. “But that isn’t what I meant to do to him. I’m just so... I’m so scared. I’m so scared because I love him so much. And I don’t... I don’t even want to think those words. Because I’ve never loved anyone the way that I do him. He was safe when I couldn’t have him. When he couldn’t hurt me. But now he could... He could destroy me. And I...”
She took a deep breath. “I want to hide. And I want to be safe. I want to have exactly what I want when I want to and not have to negotiate or argue or explain myself. I want what I’ve always had except that I... I’m so lonely when I have that. And it’s not enough. I know that. Because my cabin doesn’t even feel like home anymore because he isn’t there. Nothing that I loved before feels like enough because I can’t share it with him. And I hate it. I hate it because it’s like he carved out an empty space inside of me that wasn’t there before. And I can’t...live like this. It’s terrifying. It’s so very terrifying.”
“I know,” Lindy said. “Believe me. I know.”
“Me too,” Sabrina said. “I know it very, very well, Bea. How scary it is to love someone like that. To know that you have to let go of the ways that you protect yourself.”
“He doesn’t need me anymore,” she said, her voice small.
“What do you mean, Bea?” Sabrina asked.
“He doesn’t need me to take care of him. He’s...he’s not broken anymore, I am. And I don’t know how to be broken with him. I know how to fix other people. But he’s...he’s okay with the fact that his life looks different now. And he doesn’t need someone to dote on him and shove pain pills at him and I don’t know... If it isn’t that then I don’t know what makes me important. It’s what I do. It’s how I... It’s how I make people and things love me.”
She found herself being pulled into a fierce hug. Both Sabrina and Lindy had their arms wrapped around her and she felt small and fragile.
And cared for.
“Bea,” Lindy said, pushing her back. “You do not have to take care of people in order for them to love you. You can be broken too. We all are a little bit. I think that Dane knows that about you.”
She had used that. Always. Had given to people, cared for them, because it gave her a connection while putting her in a little bit of a position of power. She was the caregiver. And they needed her.
It was why she had bought McKenna a coat when they had first met. Not because she didn’t genuinely care about McKenna being warm, she did. But also because she knew it was the fastest way to make someone like you. To give them something. It was the fastest way to get an animal to bond to you. To save them. To care for them.
Dane had come into her life and he had starte
d to care for her. Not in that way that other people did, where they gave endless advice. But in a real, deep way.
And in the end, that was what scared her.
That he didn’t need her, and that she might need him.
That when he was well he would be able to walk away. Like a bird that was able to fly once its wing had healed.
Once she no longer had more to offer than the wild, free sky. When she wasn’t a compelling thing to add to his life, why wouldn’t he just leave? If she couldn’t keep giving, what then?
“What about Evan?” Sabrina asked. “Evan doesn’t need to stay. Evan is completely healthy and healed. Evan chooses to stay.”
“Evan is fat,” Bea said, stubbornly. “And motivated by food. Which I provide for him. Also, Evan is a raccoon.”
“Well, I imagine you provide some things to Dane too,” Sabrina said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“He is my brother,” Lindy said, her tone dry. “If we can keep it out of that territory, that would be good for me.”
“Well, Beatrix is my sister,” Sabrina said, emphasizing the word sister, making Bea’s heart swell. “And I don’t mind it. I would prefer that she was having a satisfying and robust love life to the alternative.”
“We’re covered there,” Beatrix said. “Chemistry is not our problem.”
“That’s the trouble with really intense chemistry,” Sabrina said. “There tends to be something else behind it. Something more than just sex, and that means feelings. Sometimes the chemistry forces you together, and the feelings break you apart. But you can figure that out. God knows Liam and I had to. A whole lot of years of pain. And luckily for you and Dane, I don’t think it’s going to take thirteen years apart.”
“What if it does?” Beatrix said. “What if I ruined it? What if I can’t...? What if I can’t be brave enough to be with him?”
“I know you pretty well, Bea, and the more I think about it, the more I realize you’re the bravest person I know. You have fearlessly navigated life and Dad, doing whatever you wanted. I can’t believe you went through finding out your paternity and you didn’t even tell any of us. I know you didn’t get support from Mom and Dad. The fact that you dealt with all of that on your own... You’re strong, but you don’t have to be that strong. You can let us in. All it takes is trust.”
“That’s it?” Beatrix asked.
“That easy and that hard.”
“I want him,” Beatrix said, her voice small and miserable. “Forever. More than anything.”
“Then tell him. And tell him why you’re scared. Tell him you need him. You need him to tell you every day how much he loves you. I’m going to be honest with you. About the fact that maybe you’re a little bit broken. But trust him to handle that. The way that you trust yourself to handle him.”
“What if he doesn’t want to? What if he rejects me?”
“Well,” Sabrina pointed out, “you don’t have him either way.”
“Well,” Bea countered, “it’s different because in one scenario I get to decide. And in the other scenario he rejects me and all that I am.”
“And in both you’re a miserable beast,” Lindy said.
“I don’t... I don’t know how to be the kind of brave that includes another person.”
“I guess you have to decide if he’s worth it.”
“I dreamed of having him my whole life.”
“No, you didn’t,” Sabrina said. “You fantasized about a man that was out of your reach. And the minute he wasn’t, it felt real and scary. It felt like change. And compromise. Dane’s not a fantasy. He’s a man. But the good news is, you’re not a wood sprite. You’re a woman. And I think the two of you can find a way to make that work.”
Bea sighed and clutched her forgotten test results, nodding and walking out of the winery. Her phone buzzed in her hand and she looked down, and saw that it was Dane. Her fingers hovered over the button, and then she declined it.
Because she was broken. Diminished. And she didn’t know what she could do about that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HE HAD HOPED to talk to Beatrix before he walked into the Mustard Seed. But she hadn’t picked up. Just like she hadn’t picked up any of the times he’d called her over the past couple of days. He couldn’t remember ever in his whole life calling a woman like this. He never had. Usually, he was the one declining calls. Beatrix had him acting like a desperate, crazy person. And he wasn’t even sure that he minded. It was a strange, painful, giddy space to exist in.
He just had one more thing to do before he turned phone calls into a knock on the front door.
He walked into the diner and looked around. When his eyes fell on the gray, diminished man sitting at the counter, Dane felt hollowed out.
That mountain of a man he remembered was different now. Or maybe, it was Dane who was different. Not small and wiry, and looking up at the man he saw only once a month or so. Not a little boy looking at his dad. Just a man looking at another man, who apparently shared some of the same DNA as him.
“Hi,” Dane said, sitting down next to him on one of the benches. “I’m glad you could make it.”
His dad looked at him with matching blue eyes, and Dane felt a moment of emotion over that resemblance. Over that shared feature. But just like that, it was gone when the other man looked down into his cup of coffee. “Sure. Not quite sure why you wanted to meet in person.”
“Seemed important,” Dane said. “But then, I guess you’ve seen me lots of times over the past few years. On TV. I can’t say the same.”
“I don’t reckon you can.”
“I’m not going back,” Dane said. “I’m not going back to the rodeo, and I felt like I should tell you in person.”
“Son...”
“No, let me talk. You owe me. Last time we saw each other you left when I was talking, and now you have to hear me out. It was important to me to get on TV. I remembered you watching bull riders. When you would come over and turn the TV on for a while, and that’s what you would put on. Those were your heroes, and you were mine.” Dane cleared his throat. “I don’t know if you remember what you said to me. When you left. I asked if I’d see you again and you said...maybe not. But you could see me if I found a way to get on TV.”
“Your mom didn’t want me around,” he said. As if that absolved him. Simply and easily.
“I know,” Dane said. “But let me tell you a little something I’ve learned over the past few days.” He held his phone out and opened up the call log, showing the list of outgoing calls. “That’s how many times I’ve called a certain woman over the past few days. She hasn’t picked up. Not once. It’s like hell. But I haven’t stopped. I haven’t given up. Because I love her. I love her, and fighting for her is damn near killing me. But she’s worth it. She’s got her shit, I have mine. And I sure as hell haven’t been perfect. I spent years ignoring what was right in front of me, and I don’t blame her for not believing me now that I’ve got my head out of my ass and I’m asking for forever. I’m fighting for her. I’m fighting for her because she matters to me. And being with her matters more to me than my pride, or my comfort. So you can take that excuse that you’ve given yourself over all these years and you can add that to it. I fight to be with people I love. That you don’t do the same has nothing to do with me. And I just now realized that.”
“I didn’t have any money,” his dad said. “I didn’t have anything to offer you.”
“You were my father,” Dane said. “You didn’t have to offer me a damn thing. I never saw you much when I was a kid, not after Mom kicked you out. And then you just took off. But those days that we watched bull riding together shaped my entire life. How the hell can you tell yourself you didn’t have anything to offer me? You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to fight. I spent all those years trying to show you. All those years living at you. I fo
ught harder for that relationship than you ever did.”
“Is that why you asked me here? To make me feel bad?”
“I asked you here to clear some things up. I asked you here so that we could both get a little bit of reality. I asked you here because you’re unfinished business for me. When I go back to Beatrix, I want to walk up to her as a man with nothing in my arms. Because I just want to hold her. Nothing else. I don’t want excuses.”
“It’s not the rodeo that made you important,” his dad said. “It was never that you weren’t important. Don’t you think I knew that I made a mistake walking away from you and your sister? Of course I did. But your mom didn’t want me around, and I figured that there wasn’t enough good about me to bother staying. Maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s weak. But it doesn’t surprise me any to know that I’m weak that way. I was always proud of you. I heard how well you did in football, and I used to tell all my friends that. I always said...Dane Parker, that bull rider, yeah. He’s my son. I didn’t have any pictures in my wallet, but I could show them that.”
“Well, I lived a lot of other life too.” His chest felt tight, his heart hammering. Anger for himself, for his sister, threatening to choke out his words. “And so did Lindy. She owns a winery. She’s fancy. She’s...strong and great. And it’s not because of you or Mom. It’s in spite of you. And I’m not much more than a bull rider, but I’m working on it. I’m working on it. What I want more than anything is to be a strong husband. A strong father. Because I think that’s a real achievement. A real damn hard thing that takes a strong man.”
“Wait,” his father said when Dane started to go. “I’d like to see you sometimes. I’d like to see your sister.”
“Why? Because you won’t be able to turn on the channel and see me anymore?”
