Where Forever Ends: Maplewood Falls: Book One

by Street, K.

  Saylor shook her head. “I can’t.” Her eyes caught mine. “Please,” she begged.

  That one word, a single syllable, was coated in pain.

  “I’m s—”

  “Jase. Please. Just go find my brother.”

  Her pain shredded me. I wanted to comfort her, take away all the hurt. Hold her in my arms until she didn’t ache anymore. Seeing her like this wrecked me, and the last thing I wanted to do was walk away, but this wasn’t about me. As much as I hated to do it, I left the room.

  Fourteen

  Saylor

  I stepped onto our parents’ back porch and closed the door behind me, thankful for the quiet. We had finished Thanksgiving dinner a while ago; the kitchen had been cleaned and the leftovers divvied up.

  Lucy was in the basement, watching some Disney movie with the kids. The men had taken over the living room with the flat screen to watch football, and the ladies were in the den, playing dominoes. I excused myself to the bathroom and made my getaway outside.

  My lungs filled with air, and I held it for a few beats and then released on a slow exhale.

  One down. Three more to go.

  I ticked Thanksgiving off on my mental checklist. I just had to get through Knox’s birthday, Christmas, and the first anniversary of Colin’s death.

  I was just trying to survive it all.

  Getting through today hadn’t been easy. How I’d reacted earlier to Jase’s touch made me embarrassed and ashamed. Remembering the accidental brush of his fingers as he’d tucked the loose strand of hair behind my ear and the way I’d leaned into the feel of him … it was reprehensible.

  Guilt sat like lead in the pit of my stomach, and what dinner I’d managed to eat threatened to come back up.

  I heard the door open behind me, and I didn’t have to look to know it was Jase. The light breeze carried the scent of his cologne. And I hated myself just a little bit more for knowing what he smelled like.

  “It’s getting cold.” He held out a plaid throw blanket, offering it to me.

  “Thanks.” I reached for it and draped it over my shoulders.

  Without saying a word, Jase moved down, leaving a foot or two of space between us.

  I watched him out of my periphery.

  He leaned forward, arms bent at a ninety-degree angle on top of the railing while he stared into the backyard.

  Silence hung between us. Awkward but not unbearable.

  Finally, Jase spoke, “I’m sorry. About earlier in the kitchen.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I didn’t want things to be weird. He was my brother’s best friend. He was my friend, and he hadn’t really done anything wrong. Jase had no way of knowing why the gesture had set me off.

  “Colin used to do that all the time. Tuck my hair behind my ear.” My voice grew thick with emotion as I struggled to swallow past the lump in my throat.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

  “I just …” I was so angry—not at Jase, but at Colin. “He should be here, watching football in the den with my dad, but he’s dead. And I don’t know how to be okay with that.” The words left me raw and exposed. “I miss him every single second, and it feels like I’ll never get over it. Like I’ll never stop missing him.”

  “You won’t,” he declared.

  I angled my head to look at Jase. “Do you still miss Candace?”

  His eyes met mine. “All the time. But it doesn’t consume me. Not anymore.”

  His words hung in the air.

  I wondered if I would ever get there.

  Will there ever be a day when missing Colin doesn’t consume me?

  No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t fathom it. Imagining a world in which every cell of my body, where my entire being, didn’t ache for my husband was beyond my comprehension. It made me sad, too. Like, if I didn’t cling to the memory of him, he’d disappear. The thought absolutely made no sense because Colin was already gone.

  Fifteen

  Jase

  My eyes didn’t leave Saylor’s as we stood there on her parents’ back porch; the few feet or so between us might as well have been miles.

  I had no words to bring her comfort. Nothing I said would lessen the ache deep inside her. This was her journey. She had to walk through the fire; I couldn’t do it for her. One day, she’d be on the other side of her grief, and whenever the hell that was, she’d be able to look forward. When she did, I’d be waiting, but right now, I needed to leave because I couldn’t continue to stand here, looking at Saylor, and not tug her into my arms.

  I rose to my full height and turned to face her. “I’m going to head out.”

  “All right.”

  I almost made it to the door.

  Fuck it.

  In three strides, I stood at her side.

  “Jase.” She visibly tensed.

  “Let me hold you. Because you need it. Because I need it. It doesn’t have to mean anything, Socks.”

  Her voice shook when she spoke, “If you hold me, I’ll break.”

  “Then, I’ll help you pick up the pieces.”

  Her body slowly unfurled. She adjusted the throw, and I wrapped my arms over her shoulders, pulling her close and hugging her to my chest.

  Saylor’s arms went around my waist.

  For several long minutes, we clung to each other.

  I didn’t have to see her face to know she was trying not to cry. And I was glad she couldn’t see mine. No way could I hide my feelings. If she looked at me, she would know the truth.

  I had been falling in love with her for weeks. Over late-night phone calls and text messages. More than once, I’d stayed on the line long after she fell asleep, just to listen to her breathe. Imagining what it would be like to hold her body in my arms instead of cradling her sound in my palm.

  Saylor wasn’t mine.

  She was his.

  Colin might be dead, but Saylor was married to him in every way that counted. His ring was still on her finger.

  She was in my arms, but she wanted to be in Colin’s.

  I gently squeezed her and then released her. “I’d better go. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  Her mouth tipped up slightly at the corners. “Happy Thanksgiving, Jase.”

  With her parting words, I went inside and started making the rounds to say my good-byes. Mrs. C refused to let me leave without plenty of leftovers that would last me for the next three days.

  Twenty minutes later, I was in my truck and headed for home.

  The sky was painted in streaks of pink and orange as the sun set over the ridge of mountains. The view never got old. Music filled the cab as I focused on the curvy mountain roads.

  I’d only been on the road for ten minutes or so when my Bluetooth rang with an incoming call.

  I pressed the button on the steering wheel to accept.

  “Hello?”

  “Happy Thanksgiving, little brother.” My sister, Jessica’s, voice came through the speaker.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Jessie Bear.”

  “Mom said you went to the Chadwicks’ for dinner. You could have come here, you know.”

  “Because jumping in my truck and driving nearly three thousand miles for turkey makes sense.”

  I swore I heard her eyes roll.

  “God, you’re such a smart-ass.”

  “And you’re being a brat. Besides, I’ll be there in a few weeks for Christmas.”

  “I know, but I miss you.”

  Jessica was two years older than me, and we had always been close. Living across the country from my family sucked, but I had no desire to move, and Jessica and her husband had built a life in Washington State. My parents tried to visit often, but I only managed to see my sister and her family once a year, twice if they came to visit over the summer.

  “I miss you, too. How are the kids?”

  “Gage and Drew are kicking ass on the ice, but your precious niece is about to be shipped off to boarding school.”
/>   “Kerstin can’t be that bad.” I laughed at Jessica’s expense.

  A loud harrumph came over the line. “If she had been born first, I swear, that girl would have been an only child.”

  I knew she was only half-kidding.

  “Are you ready for Round Robin?”

  A grin she couldn’t see spread over my face. “Hell yeah.”

  If we weren’t able to be together over the holiday, this was the next best thing.

  “Who wants to talk to Uncle Jase?”

  “Me, me!” Kerstin shouted in the background.

  A second later, her voice filled the cab. “Hi, Uncle Jase.”

  “Hey, Little Bit.”

  We talked for a few minutes, and then the phone was passed to the next person. The process took about twenty minutes before the phone got around to my mom. I always talked to her last for some reason.

  “Hey there, baby boy.” Her voice was warm, but she sounded exhausted.

  “Hi, Mom. You sound tired.”

  “I’m fine.” She lowered her voice and then said, “But I am tired. Your sister tries. She really does. Bless her heart, that girl can’t boil water. I got up at five this morning to save the turkey. The bird was already dead; he didn’t need to die twice. I’ll tell you what; cousin Catherine has nothing on your sister.”

  I barked out a laugh. The turkey carving scene from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation played in my head.

  “Damn, Mama. You’re brutal.”

  “Well, it’s the truth. Now, tell me, how are you?”

  “I’m good. Staying busy.”

  “Not too busy, I hope.”

  I noted the lilt in her tone. “Mom.”

  She loved me and loved interfering in my personal life even more.

  “Don’t Mom me. There is no harm in wanting my son to be happy.”

  “I am happy. I’ve been restoring the farmhouse. It’s almost finished. I’ve got the barn gutted, and Easton is helping me with the tasting room. By the time summer rolls around, it will be open for business.”

  “That’s wonderful, baby. Really. Your father and I are so proud of you, but you work too hard, and I worry about you.”

  “I’m thirty-four, Mom. You can stop worrying.”

  “Jase Michael Turner, I will worry about you until the day I die. I’m your mother. It’s my job.”

  My chest swelled. “I know you will, Mom.”

  “How’s Saylor doing?” she asked softly.

  My chest tightened at the sound of her name.

  “About as well as can be expected, I guess.”

  Last time we’d spoken, I’d mentioned Saylor had moved back to the area. My parents were friendly with the Chadwicks, but I didn’t know how often they talked. The last thing I wanted to do right now was talk to my mom about Saylor though.

  “I just got home. I’ll call you in a couple of days.” I slowed down and then turned the wheel. The gravel crunched beneath my tires as I drove up my long driveway.

  “You’d better. I love you.”

  “Love you, too. See you in a few weeks.”

  I disconnected the call and turned off the engine. Then, I grabbed the leftovers Caroline had sent home with me off the seat and climbed out of the truck.

  Once I had the door unlocked, I felt along the wall for the light switch, flipped it on, and headed into the kitchen to put away the food. The kitchen cabinets had been installed last week. A mix-up had occurred with the countertops, and since it was a holiday week, they wouldn’t be fitted until next week.

  The farmhouse had been built in 1923 by my great-grandfather. It had been well cared for over the years but needed an overhaul. The house was huge, but the layout didn’t flow as well as it could have. I had done a lot of the work myself, but I’d hired some guys from the crews I oversaw when I worked with East. Working on a remodel and living in the midst of one were two different things though.

  I’ll be so damn glad when this renovation is done, I thought as I grabbed a beer from the fridge.

  I owned a winery, but I was reaching for a beer. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

  I had energy to burn, so I took another beer to avoid a trip downstairs when this one was gone. I proceeded to go up to my room to change before I started mudding the drywall in the new master bath. While the mud was drying, I opened my second beer and then mounted the closet shelving in the bedroom down the hall.

  Hours passed as I moved from one project to the next. Keeping my hands busy and my mind focused didn’t allow time for my thoughts to drift to the blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty I wanted but couldn’t have.

  Sixteen

  Saylor

  Knox had just turned four last week.

  Celebrating his birthday without Colin was harder than I’d imagined. There was no silly birthday dance around the kitchen, or birthday crown constructed from aluminum foil. Both traditions we had started on Knox’s first birthday died right along with Colin because I couldn’t bring myself to do those things without him.

  If it hadn’t been for my family, I didn’t know how I would have made it through the day.

  “Mommy, can Jase come over and play basketball again?” Knox asked as he climbed into his car seat.

  My brother had insisted on buying him a regulation basketball hoop. When I reminded Easton that Knox wasn’t even four feet tall, his response was that it was adjustable. So, my dad, Jase, and East had set it up and taught my kid how to play Horse.

  “Maybe after Christmas.”

  “Mommy?”

  “Hmm?” My attention was focused on getting him fastened in and double-checking that the seat was secure in my mom’s car.

  “I spen’ing the night with Gigi and Papa, and I see you tomorrow?”

  “Yes, little man. You’re spending the night, and tomorrow, we’re going to make gingerbread houses with Gigi.” I adjusted the straps over his shoulders. “Give me kisses.”

  He puckered up, and I pecked his lips with mine.

  Before I could pull away, he gripped my cheeks between his palms. “Like the fishies, Mommy. Like the fishies.”

  “You’re silly,” I told him, except silly came out like swilly because Knox was squishing my face.

  He laughed, and then I started laughing, so he laughed harder. Before I knew it, we were both giggling too hard to make fish lips.

  It took at least five minutes before we got it together long enough to execute all the kisses for a proper good-bye.

  “All right, baby, I’ll see you tomorrow, and Gigi will let you call me to say good night.” I started to shut the car door, but Knox stopped me.

  “Mom-mee,” he said, exasperated. “Kiss Rex.”

  He held up his stuffed dragon, and I kissed his toy on the nose.

  “Good?” I asked.

  “Yep. Love you, Mommy.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side where my mom stood.

  Doubt creeped in. I wondered if this was a good idea. He had never spent a single night away from me in his life.

  “He’ll be fine,” she assured me. “You need this, and he does, too.”

  She was right.

  Christmas was days away. There were presents to buy, and I needed to get a tree because Easton didn’t have one. If it wasn’t for Knox, Christmas would be just another day on the calendar, but he was a great kid, and he deserved to experience the childlike magic of the holidays. I was determined to give him that. Because, no matter how hard life was, sometimes, the only choice you had was to fake it until you made it.

  My mom embraced me and whispered in my ear, “It’s going to be okay, baby. I know you miss him, but you’re so strong, Saylor. Remember, God doesn’t ever give us more than we can handle.”

  Words—so many of them sat on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell my mother to save her preachy motivation for someone else because God didn’t know me at all. If he did, he wouldn’t trust me so much.

  Biti
ng back a retort, I returned her hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

  She stepped back and then slid behind the wheel.

  “Bye, Mommy,” Knox called from the backseat.

  “Bye, little man.” I turned my attention to my mom. “Call me if he changes his mind and doesn’t want to stay. I’ll come get him. I don’t care how late it is. Oh, and don’t let him load up on dairy either. A little is fine, but too much, and he’ll end up with a stomachache.”

  “Honey, he’ll be fine. I raised you and your brother, and you both turned out all right.”

  “Mom,” I warned.

  Knox wasn’t allergic to dairy, but too much wreaked havoc on his tummy.

  “Fine, fine.” She held up her hands in a show of surrender. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Bye.”

  She closed her door, and I waved as they drove off.

  Easton was in Atlanta for the weekend. Yesterday, he’d had a project meeting that ran long, and he wanted to scout some real estate, so I had the house to myself.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had been alone, but I decided to take advantage of it. I spun on my heels and walked inside.

  Once in my bedroom, I shrugged off my coat, kicked off my slippers, and stripped out of my sweatshirt. Goose bumps rose over my newly exposed skin. Eager to get warm, I reached into the closet for the soft burgundy tunic sweater and pulled it over my head. I shed my yoga pants and then tugged on a pair of dark skinny jeans. All I needed were boots and my purse, which already had my lip gloss and mascara inside.

  I eyed my small purse on top of the dresser. I’d been using the same one for a while, but today, I wanted something roomier, so I could take my e-reader with me. Reading, people-watching, and coffee were some of my favorite things. A trip to The Brewed Book this afternoon would allow me to enjoy all three.

  After some deliberation, I grabbed the black hobo bag off the hook in the closet and reached for my boots. Crossing to the dresser, I snatched my purse and then opened the drawer where I kept my socks, pulling out a pair.