Walking through the door, she smelled dinner cooking. Andrew was sitting with her dad, but Spencer was in the kitchen with her mother, putting the finishing touches on chicken and dumplings.
If Andrew was harboring any hard feelings over their earlier conversation, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he greeted her with a smile and a wave while continuing his conversation with Cressa’s father.
When she walked into the kitchen, Spencer laughed as he pointed to the pot of chicken and dumplings on the stove. “I used to be a pretty good cook, but not anymore. This is the only thing I really know how to make that doesn’t involve a bean.”
Her heart thawed a little, but her resolve stiffened. She would talk with him after dinner, when her parents were in bed. “It smells delicious. I’m going to take a quick peek in the master bath before we eat,” she said, grateful for the opportunity to be out of Spencer’s company. Standing next to him and knowing it would be the last evening they would share took her breath away and filled her chest with aching pain that made it hard to breathe.
The aroma of Spencer’s chicken and dumplings followed Cressa all the way to the back of the house, where she saw the master bath torn into pieces. It reminded her of the state of her heart with fragments scattered throughout her soul. She turned her back on the demolished room, closed her eyes to the hot tears that began to surface, and thought of Kimber. If she could spare that little girl the pain of growing up in a broken home, her sacrifice would be worth it.
Swallowing hard, she made her way back to the kitchen, where she said goodbye to Andrew and suffered through dinner. The chicken and dumplings truly were delicious, but her appetite was diminished.
“Are you all right?” Spencer asked.
“Yes. Thanks for making dinner. It was so nice to come home to this.”
“Isn’t it good?” her mother chimed in. “It’s an old family recipe.”
Cressa met Spencer’s gaze. His eyes grew wide in surprise, but they both smiled and Spencer laughed.
Cressa’s father shook his head. “Before you know it, she’ll be taking credit for my famous enchiladas.”
Her mother gave her father an odd look. “And why not? They’re an old family recipe, too.”
Everyone laughed, but Cressa wasn’t sure if her mother was teasing or if the seed of dementia was growing once again. The sadness and anxiety that accompanied her concerns around her parents came crashing into her fragile thoughts.
It was going to be hard to let Spencer go. His presence made everything joyful. Her parents accepted him, in spite of the noise and mess that came with him. Her mother had even given him the nickname of Mr. Sagebrush. Maybe her parents were also beginning to love him. He fit so easily at their table and within their family bonds. He fit into her life, too. His presence stitched everything together with love, as if it was seamless.
After dinner, her parents settled in front of the television, but before too long they began to doze. She hurried them off to bed, and they gratefully succumbed to her suggestion, leaving Cressa alone with Spencer.
Sitting on the couch, she switched off the television and faced him. She needed to say it now, before she lost her nerve. “I talked with Lindsey today.”
The energy of Spencer’s defenses rushed at her like a freight train. “Oh?”
“Yeah. She showed me some pictures from the party.” Cressa’s heart beat fast and hard in her chest as the pain of what was to come rode on its frenzied pulse.
Spencer pulled out his phone and pushed at the screen before turning it around to show Cressa. “You mean these pictures?”
Cressa’s heart lurched to a stop as she gazed at a similar photo of Spencer with Kimber and Lyla. “Yeah. Those pictures.”
“Well, I told you I was going to my ex-wife’s nephew’s birthday party. It allowed me more time with Kimber on a weekend that isn’t mine.”
“I know.” Desperation laced her words. “But you never told me how beautiful Lyla is or …”
“Or what?”
“Or how happy you all are together. Kimber looks radiant.”
Spencer squirmed in his seat. “Of course Kimber’s happy. Every kid loves to have their parents around them. She’s no different.”
Cressa stilled her breathing, willing her trembling voice to even out, hoping her plummeting sorrow would follow. If this was what it meant to feel, Cressa preferred the familiar anesthetized cave of her own creation over the hurt of this loss. “I know Lyla cheated on you, Spencer, and I know that’s caused you a great deal of suffering. But maybe … perhaps she deserves a second chance.”
“What?! I can’t believe you’re saying this. Lyla didn’t just cheat on me once. She cheated on me multiple times. It’s a way of life with her. You think you’re the only one who notices how pretty she is? Lyla is fully aware of her effect on men.”
Anxiety rose in Cressa’s throat. “But what about how she affects you?”
“Lyla and I are finished, Cressa.”
She swallowed hard. “Is it true that Lyla wants to reconcile?”
“Yes. It’s true, but I don’t want to remarry Lyla. I could never trust her.”
Cressa moved away from Spencer, forcing back tears. “I’m not so sure.”
Spencer gently cupped her chin in his palm and raised her face to meet his gaze. “What would make you say that?”
Cressa took a jittery breath. “Because Kimber isn’t the only one who looks happy. I haven’t known you for long, but I know happiness when I see it, and when you’re standing next to Lyla and Kimber, it’s written all over your face.” The truth bit at her, turning everything to despair.
Spencer dropped his hand and stared at Cressa. “I don’t love Lyla.” His voice was husky in its denial.
Cressa let the silence hang for moment as she carefully chose her words. “I don’t know what you feel for Lyla, but there’s definitely chemistry between the two of you. Can you deny that?” She turned the picture back to him, and his face changed, as if he was seeing the photo for the first time.
“She … we were married. Of course there’s a past familiarity between the two of us.”
Cressa heard the defeat in his acknowledgment, and it told her everything she needed to know. “It’s more like a present-day intimacy and family closeness.”
Bitterness flooded his voice. “And you can tell this just from a picture?”
Long-held tears came to Cressa’s eyes in spite of her best effort to keep them from surfacing as the pain of her broken heart and future throbbed. “Yes,” she said. “I can see it, because I’ve never had that before.”
Spencer blinked. “Then let me offer it to you. Lyla is my past. Don’t bring her into our future.”
Cressa desperately wished to give in to Spencer’s invitation. He was offering her everything she wanted, but at what price, and who would pay? She could never build her happiness on the ruins of a little girl’s hopes. Brushing the tears away quickly, she stood. “You’d better go,” she said. “If you could come tomorrow just a little after eight-thirty, I’ll be gone by then.”
“Lyla—”
Cressa looked sharply at Spencer as all of her earlier anguish culminated in this one moment.
Spencer’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, Cressa. I didn’t mean—I can’t believe I did—it’s just that she and I argue, and you and I never have had a fight before.”
Cressa’s pain was infiltrated with a sorrowful peace. It crystallized her decision, turning some part of her heart to stone. “I think we understand each other, Spencer.” She began walking him to the door. Once there, he looked at her, his eyes mirroring her own sadness and desperation as he bent down to kiss her.
Cressa longed to feel his lips against hers, but it wouldn’t be right. His kiss wouldn’t hold hope or the promise of another kiss. Instead, it would carry defeat and finality. She couldn’t live with that memory, even if she was the one who uncovered the painful truth. Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she turned he
r cheek to him.
He reached down as his breath graced her skin and whispered, “I’m so very sorry.”
Cressa’s dreams and desire folded in on themselves. “So am I,” she whispered.
Pulling away from him, she stepped back and opened the front door, following him onto the porch. Without a backward glance, he made his way toward his truck.
If this was what it meant to feel, Cressa wanted no part of it. She stood in the doorway, and the headlights swept across the tender greenery of the new spring lawn until they found her. As he backed the truck away and headed out of the drive, Cressa stood in the soft promise of spring that mocked her every hope.
Twenty-Two
Spencer let himself into the front door and was grateful for the rush of warmth that came from the embers of his woodstove. Using the light from the fire, he threw another log on the dying flames and sat on the couch as he reviewed the conversation with Cressa. Shock pulsed through him. They’d just begun to become a couple, and she’d left him. All because of Lyla.
Anger rushed through his veins like a wildfire, burning everything he thought he knew. Was that why Lyla had invited him to Sam’s party?
He pulled out his phone and brought up the picture of him and Lyla tucked in together with Kimber, who was sitting on her birthday party pony. His anger turned to cold smoke. The photo could not lie, and there was no denying Spencer’s happiness. Now that Cressa had pointed it out, it was obvious, as was Kimber’s sweet elation in being in the company of her parents while every lovely thing about Lyla radiated beauty, happiness, and love. They looked like the perfect family.
Spencer put the phone down. They weren’t perfect, and the contented cheerfulness that beamed from the picture was just a moment in time, a clicked snapshot of two people who loved their daughter.
The stillness grew around Spencer, causing everything to drift away but Lyla and Kimber. He loved his daughter and would do anything for her. Hadn’t his sacrifice and move to Sunrise Creek proven that? He’d given up everything to be close to her. But always in the folded wings, just offstage of his life, there was Lyla, whose beauty shadowed every part of him and whose familiar family recollections pulled at him from the deep chasm of their divorce.
The fire snapped. Spencer jumped and his gut knotted with a mix of longing for his family, along with a new desire for everything Cressa offered in a fresh start of loving trust.
He took a deep breath to dispel his thoughts, but the results would not leave him. Looking at the picture again, the mask of denial was ripped from him, almost bringing him to his knees as the full revelation of what Cressa had seen hit him. Yes, he was happy in that shared moment with Lyla, but was it enough? Was it intimacy?
He tried to push the questions away and focus on Kimber. He loved his daughter. Did he love her mother? Or were his feelings a leftover ember that sparked with desire for hearth and home every time Lyla threw a log on the fire?
Twenty-Three
The following morning, Cressa washed the breakfast pan while a dull headache throbbed at the base of her neck, promising to become a full-blown disaster if she didn’t take something soon. Her parents sat in front of the television, listening to the morning news. The broadcaster’s cheerful voice as she exclaimed over the latest calamity was almost more than Cressa could bear.
“Can you please mute that television for a few minutes?” Cressa barked. She took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she said. “I have a horrible headache.”
Her father switched off the TV. “I’m sorry, honey.”
Her mother got up and returned a few minutes later with some Tylenol. “Here, take these before you go to work. It’ll help.”
Cressa swallowed the pills and was grateful to her mother for bringing the medicine. It soothed her heart to realize her mother remembered where they were in the middle of the remodel.
She checked her watch. She needed to leave in a few minutes if she wanted to beat Spencer.
The doorbell rang, and anger surged within Cressa. She’d asked Spencer to wait until after eight-thirty before showing up. Was he so disrespectful? Her headache roared back at her as she hurried to the door. She needed to get her ill humor under control. Hopefully, it was Andrew.
Opening the door, she smiled to greet her cousin, but instead found Owen standing in front of her. “Morning, Cressa,” Owen said.
Cressa’s mouth dropped open and her heart went into a frenzied beat. “What—what are doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Owen asked as he opened his arms wide.
“Who is it?” her father yelled from the family room.
Cressa calmed a little at the sound of her father’s voice, and she stepped aside, unsure she wanted to walk into Owen’s open embrace. “You’d better come in and meet my parents.”
Leading Owen to the family room, she made the introductions, reminding her parents that she and Owen had worked together while she’d lived in Salt Lake City.
Her mother squinted in Owen’s direction. “Who are you again?”
Cressa was asking the same question. Just who was Owen, and why was he here? Her life in Salt Lake had finally dropped away, and she had quit looking for any word from him. Now, he stood before her with that same easy expression she knew so well.
“Remember, Mom? He’s my friend from Salt Lake. Owen and I worked together.” Cressa was surprised at how smooth and serene she sounded when her insides were jumping with nervous shock. She checked the clock again. She needed to get to work, and Spencer would appear any minute. Cressa’s anxiety climbed a notch.
Her mother furrowed her brow at Cressa. “What’s he doing here?”
Cressa wanted to laugh, whether from nervous energy or the hilarity of the moment, she wasn’t sure. Instead, she bit her tongue before answering. “Umm. I guess he’s here for a surprise visit!” She tried to sound cheerful, but the effort couldn’t hide her astonishment.
“Well, he can’t stay here,” her mother said. “This inn is full.” She focused on Cressa. “When are the boys getting here?”
Once again, laughter bubbled up to the surface of Cressa’s mind as she and her father shared a look of shocked humor over her mother’s declaration.
“Any minute,” Cressa said as her desire to laugh switched to a rising panic at the thought of Spencer meeting Owen. “And I need to be off to work.” She turned to Owen. “Why don’t you and I walk outside?”
Owen blinked, but nothing in his manner changed, and Cressa was reminded of how he could remain seamless in the middle of any wake. It was part of what made him such a good emergency room physician.
Taking Owen by the elbow, she said a quick goodbye to her parents before leading him outside. Once they reached her car, she dropped her hand. “I can’t visit with you now, but maybe after work, we can head over to the diner for a bite to eat.”
Owen nodded. “I won’t keep you,” he said. “But there is one thing I want you to think about throughout the day.”
Curiosity rose up in Cressa, replacing her earlier anxiety. “What’s that?”
“I’ve missed you,” he said. “We’ll talk more later, but let that soften you up, okay?”
Cressa blinked in stunned bewilderment as Owen reached over and gave her arm a gentle squeeze just as Spencer’s truck pulled into the drive.
Whipping her head around, she saw Spencer’s face mirroring her shock and alarm. Cressa was aware of Owen’s hand wrapped around her upper arm, but she couldn’t feel it. All of her energy was focused on Spencer. He moved from his truck like a fire was burning under him, his face grim. His eyes grew hot with what could only be a newfound understanding based on the scene Cressa was providing him.
Cressa withered at the look on Spencer’s face that spoke to his misinterpretation of Owen’s visit. The headache that had been an earlier threat now throbbed behind her eyes with ferocity, making it hard to focus. She gathered her wits and tried to smile. “Good morning, Spencer.”
Spencer
gave her a sharp, cool look as he stopped. “This must be your doctor from Salt Lake,” he replied.
Cressa tried to nod as the headache continued to grind against her skull. “Yes.” Her voice sounded uncommonly cheery. “He just showed up for a surprise visit.” Every piece of her wanted to grab Spencer by the hand and explain Owen’s presence, but she hardly understood it herself.
Owen glanced at Spencer, and Cressa prayed both men would stay silent.
Spencer shouldered his tool belt as he moved past her and Owen without another glance or word.
Cressa exhaled a whispered prayer of gratitude for their silence. Her headache retreated an inch, giving her room to think.
“I guess I should be flattered that your construction crew knows about me,” Owen said, giving Cressa a winning smile.
She ignored his comment. “Meet me at Marilyn’s Diner at six-ish, and we can talk.”
Owen stepped away. “I’ll be there.” Then he moved close again. “And don’t forget what I said.”
Cressa studied him for a minute, giving him a puzzled look. His words had already flown from her pain-racked head.
Once again, Owen placed his hand around Cressa’s upper arm. “I’ve missed you. I’ve come to Sunrise Creek to see you.”
Cressa nodded as the headache moved to a dull pain at the back of her neck. Owen came into better focus. His graying dark hair and the lines around his eyes may have given away his age, but they did nothing to diminish the intensity of his steel-blue eyes or his rugged athletic appearance.
She checked her phone. She was going to be late if she didn’t hurry. Getting into her car, she waited for Owen to pull away in his rental before giving him a wave and heading toward the clinic. Now that she was alone, her arm tingled at his touch, and already the familiarity of him eased her mind. He had come all the way from Salt Lake City to see her. That must mean something. But did it mean anything to her?
Sapphires And Sagebrush (Country Brides & Cowboy Boots) Page 14
