Wild West Wedding (River's End Ranch Book 9)

by Caroline Lee

  She needed him to understand, so that maybe—just maybe—he’d be willing to compromise too, and take a step towards valuing her opinions and way of life the way she’d apparently been able to value his.

  A good, long conversation was what they needed.

  Too bad she never got the chance.

  After hours of alternating between crying and hoping he didn’t walk in to find her like that, and crying and wishing he would come home and see how much he’d hurt her…she had to accept the truth.

  Jace wasn’t coming home. Maybe this wasn’t even his home anymore, as long as she was here.

  She brushed her teeth—while crying, which is pretty messy—and then curled up in bed. He wasn’t coming home. Where had he gone? He wasn’t even coming home to find out how calm and stable she’d decided to be as she explained her concerns? He wasn’t going to comfort her and hold her while she cried and acted completely unstable?

  Dink couldn’t decide which was worse; not having the chance to show him that she valued him, or not having him there to make her feel better.

  Her stomach felt like she’d swallowed rocks, her chest ached, and her head was pounding. For the millionth time she considered calling Ellie, or even Muz, and having one of them come over and give her the hug she so desperately needed. But she couldn’t stand the thought of talking to anyone else before she talked to him. And besides, if he wasn’t here, he was probably with Will, which meant she couldn’t talk to Ellie anyhow, right?

  He wasn’t coming home.

  Finally, Dink moved to the center of the big bed, propped some of the pillows up at her back, and wrapped her body around two more. If she closed her eyes and took a few deep hiccuppy breaths, she could just pretend that those weren’t pillows, but a man. A man with his arms around her. A man who cared for her and her opinions and her values, who had pulled her tightly against his chest to keep her secure and cherished.

  A man who loved her.

  Jace.

  Thankfully, she fell asleep before she remembered it was all pretend.

  CHAPTER NINE

  He still wasn’t home the next morning. Dink could tell, just by the way the house felt when she opened her eyes. How had the tiny house become a home in only a few short days? And how had Jace managed to wrap his way so tightly into her life she could feel the difference when he wasn’t home?

  Sighing, she pulled herself out of bed, and stumbled into the bathroom to dig around for a pain killer. Her head was pounding; apparently, whatever she’d been doing last night, it hadn’t really been sleep. She felt drained, empty.

  Last night she’d been angry, full of desperate tears. But this morning she was just filled with a sort of dull, aching sadness. Staring at herself in the mirror, at the bags under her eyes, Dink wondered if she’d already come to terms with the fact that Jace wasn’t part of her life anymore. Is that why the anger was gone and all she felt was loneliness?

  After her breakup with Magnus, she’d been angry…but when that anger had ebbed, all that had been left was a vague sort of indifference. Right now though, she couldn’t imagine ever being “indifferent” to losing Jace. The memory of his kisses—his smile and laughter!—would haunt her forever.

  Dink sniffled pitifully.

  She wanted ice cream, but the thought of going back to Sadie’s Soda Saloon or the General Store to get some just made her stomach hurt. Just the idea of walking through the Wild West Town—where he’d had his arm around her only yesterday—was unbearable.

  And the worst part was that Ellie was getting married tomorrow. Tonight was the rehearsal and the private dinner Kelsi had arranged at the café, and Dink was going to have to see Jace again. Not just see him, but work with him through all of the last-minute planning details she’d agreed to do because she wanted this wedding to be a success.

  When all she really wanted to do was crawl back into bed and cry. Well, maybe not cry; the idea of having to work with Jace again was heart-breaking, but it seemed like she didn’t have any tears left.

  Dink pulled on her robe and started the coffee. She was just biting into the last donut in the fridge—she still wasn’t hungry, but it didn’t seem right to drink coffee without something sweeter—when the front door opened. The pastry turned to an ashy lump in her mouth when Jace walked in.

  He stopped and stared at her, and she forced herself to swallow. He looked terrible and wonderful, all at once. Jace was still wearing the clothes he’d worn to church yesterday morning, but was significantly more wrinkled. Which, knowing him, was probably the end of the world. His pea coat was thrown over his arm, and after the initial pause of seeing her in the kitchen, he closed the door behind himself and dropped the bundle in his arms on one of the chairs. Then he went back to staring at her.

  Dink shifted uncomfortably and put down the hot coffee. He was here. He was here, and he was just looking at her.

  All yesterday afternoon, she would’ve given anything to have him walk through that door, to have him look like he hadn’t slept, to see him rumpled and baggy-eyed. But now that he was here, and he wasn’t saying anything, Dink wasn’t sure what she thought.

  She just felt empty.

  He’d come home, but it was too late now. Wasn’t it?

  “Hi.” His creamy brown eyes roamed over her face when he greeted her, but she noticed he was still balanced on the balls of his feet, like he was expecting her to run.

  Instead, she turned towards the counter, placing her hands on either side of her mug, and tried to keep her fingers from curling into fists. She couldn’t look at him without aching. “Hi, yourself.”

  “I, uh…” She heard him take a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

  They were going to be mundane about it? Well, she could play that game. “I’m fine.” She was anything but fine, but after the heart-break he’d put her through, she wasn’t going to let him know that. If he wanted to pretend everything was okay, then she would too.

  “Dink, I…” When she didn’t look at him, he trailed off. Had he lost his nerve? She should probably give him her full attention, instead of this cold shoulder, but she couldn’t. She was still too angry, too sad.

  Oh, look… apparently, she did have some tears left. One slipped out and rolled down her cheek before she could shut her eyes. She didn’t want to start crying again, not around him.

  But he must’ve seen it, because he cursed under his breath, and the next thing she felt was his warmth, hovering beside her. He didn’t need to touch her for her to know he was there; she could feel his presence with every inch of her skin. And realizing that, knowing her body and her soul was still attuned to him, made the tears start in earnest.

  “Oh, Dink, I’m so sorry.” And then she was in his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head and her hands pressed against his chest. She couldn’t hug him back if she wanted to; he was holding her too tightly. So instead, she just let herself go limp and let her tears soak through his fancy soft gray sweater.

  And he just stood there and accepted her tears, whispering things against her hair that she couldn’t understand. Things like “I’m sorry” and “I never meant to hurt you”. She briefly wondered if the emptiness in her chest and stomach had made her hallucinate.

  Finally, after what might’ve been a lifetime standing in the kitchen with his arms around her, he cursed quietly again—she heard that, because it was so unlike him—and scooped her up into his arms. She barely had time to squeak out a hiccup before he was settled on the couch, with one arm behind her back and one under her legs. She was sitting on his lap. Like she was a child.

  Like he was comforting her.

  All yesterday, this was what she’d wanted. She’d been angry that he hadn’t shown up to offer it, and angrier still that she’d needed it. She’d been willing to compromise, but he hadn’t been there to see it, and she knew she couldn’t be mad at him for not reading her mind, but after hours of crying…that didn’t matter. She’d still be angry.

  And now? No
w she was angry at herself, for feeling so comfortable, so secure, in his arms. Come on, Dink. I thought you didn’t need him?

  But apparently she needed him very much, after all.

  “Dink, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He pulled his arm out from under her leg and wiped at her cheeks with one thumb. His palm cupped her cheek, and she felt her traitorous heart melt further. “I was an idiot. Can you forgive me?”

  Oh gosh, that’s exactly what she’d spent yesterday wanting to hear. But now she felt like being stubborn; she didn’t want him to see how much he’d hurt her.

  “Why were you an idiot, Jace?” She meant ‘Do you understand what you did wrong?’ but he answered differently.

  “Because…” He sighed, and pulled her forehead against his. “Because I didn’t understand. I still don’t understand, not really, but I hurt you and I’m sorry for that.”

  “Do you want to know? I mean, do you want to understand?”

  “Will you explain it?”

  She pulled away, turning just slightly. Not out of his arms—she needed his comfort in a way she didn’t fully understand—but just enough so she didn’t have to look at him while she explained.

  Taking a deep breath, she remembered all the things she’d practiced saying to Hagrid yesterday…and then threw them all out. “I…I’m impulsive, Jace. I know that. But it’s more than being impulsive. It’s…” A shuddering breath. “It’s about living in the moment. Enjoying life.”

  “Your spontaneity is one of my favorite things about you.”

  “No it’s not.” She’d tried to bite down on the denial, but it came out anyhow. “You hate that I’m not like you, all proper and planned-out and controlled.” He didn’t interrupt her to tell her she was wrong. Squeezing her eyes shut on more tears, she willed them not to come until she was through. “And what stinks, what I hate, is that last night I realized you were right and I should be saving my money for a car. If I could admit your viewpoint had value, how come you…?”

  She couldn’t finish. Her pitiful question just trailed off, and she fought to keep her sobs under control. He didn’t say anything, but pulled her head back against his shoulder, and wrapped both arms around her once more. And they sat there on the couch—her sideways on his lap—while he rocked.

  And, God help her, it felt good. Right. Like this was where she belonged.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “Sweetheart,” he murmured against her hair. “You know where I spent last night?”

  She shook her head.

  “Outside. In a hammock right down the hill from you.” He’d been down by the river the whole night? “I knew you were hurting, but I didn’t know…” He sighed. “I didn’t understand.”

  “Weren’t you cold?”

  “I was freezing. I didn’t sleep much. But when the stars came up over the river, and I could see my own breath, all I could think of was sharing that with you. But you weren’t there with me, where you belonged. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He paused, and they rocked in silence for a few more minutes. “Somewhere after midnight I realized what you were trying to tell me in the store. You and I, we are different, but I don’t hate you for it. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I shouldn’t have told you that you were wrong to want those boots.”

  “No.” She sighed, drained of everything. “No, that’s what I was trying to tell you. I realized you were right. I should be saving for a car.”

  “But that doesn’t mean that you have to stop wanting the boots, and I’m sorry I made you feel like that was wrong.” He kissed the top of her head again. “You make decisions based on how you feel, and how the outcome will make you feel. I realized that, last night, freezing my butt off down by the river.” He sighed. “And I also realized how wonderful, and how special, that ability is.”

  She stirred. “What?”

  “I can’t help the way I am any more than you can, Dink. I analyze. I look at all the outcomes and weigh the consequences. And I make my decisions based on…well, logic, I guess, but a different kind of logic than you use. And once that decision is made, I’ve never experienced the joy you seem to get from being spontaneous. So I guess what I’m trying to say is…” He took a deep breath. “I see the value in what you value. I’m sorry it took me all darn night to figure that out.”

  Dink straightened, and locked eyes with him. A dull, cautious hope began to beat in her chest. This wasn’t at all how she’d imagined—hoped?—this conversation would go, but arguments never went the way they were supposed to, she’d learned.

  He leaned forward and kissed her on her nose. Then a kiss on her lips, a quick one, and he rested his forehead against hers. “I realized a lot last night, Dink. I love your spontaneity, and I love how being around you makes me a better man. I love how well we complement each other, and what a good team we make. I love that you’ve created a successful business that makes kids’ worlds better, and that you’re so enthusiastic about making River’s End Ranch a safe haven for kids just like I was. I love that you look at me and see me, not some kid who had to fight and rebel and turn his life around. I love that about you. I love you.”

  Dink’s heart was pounding heavily in her chest, and she could barely hear him over the rush in her ears. Her palms itched to plaster them against his chest, to feel him. To make sure he was real, and that his words were real.

  He loved her?

  Instead though, she gave a little eeeep of surprise when he lifted her again and stood up. He made sure she was steady and standing on her own feet, and then…then he backed up a step.

  Dink couldn’t do anything more than just stare at him in surprise when he took her hands in his. She wondered if maybe she should’ve had more coffee, after all…because staring up at him, she would swear there were tears in his creamy eyes.

  And then she sucked in a surprised gasp—half a sob—when he sank to one knee in front of her, still holding her hands in the living room of their tiny house.

  “Sitting out there last night, Dink, I realized all sorts of things. I realized you and I are probably going to fight a lot over stupid stuff, but as long as we’re open-minded enough to listen to each other, we’ll both be stronger for it. I realized I’ve never, ever met anyone who had such a profound effect on me in such a short amount of time.”

  Dink opened her mouth, but wasn’t sure what she’d planned on saying. Instead though, he squeezed her hands. “Shhh, I’m not done.”

  He took a deep breath—one that she felt down his arms and up hers and all the way into her chest. “And I realized that I absolutely cannot live without you. You make me want to do something rash, something impulsive.” Her heart began to beat double-time. “We’ve put a lot of work into this wedding, Dink, and it’d be a shame to not take advantage of it.”

  It wasn’t until she became light-headed that she realized she was holding her breath, and she sucked in a great lungful of air as she squeezed his hands. “Jace?”

  “I know I haven’t calculated and debated and made lists of pros and cons, Dink, but I don’t have to.” His beautiful, expressive mouth flashed once into a smile, before dropping back into his intense expression once more. “I love you, and I want to be spontaneous. Will you marry me, Lloyd Redfern?”

  Her knees gave out, and she sunk to the couch. His eyes didn’t leave hers, though, and he actually scooted closer until he was kneeling beside her. “Dink?”

  “I…” She had to take a few deep breaths. “Are you sure, Jace?”

  “Sure about proposing to you? Yes.” He squeezed her hands. “I love you, Dink, and I know life won’t always be easy with me, but I’m hoping that you love me back. Enough to say yes.”

  “You’re talking about getting married tomorrow.” Why didn’t she feel more freaked out about this? Maybe it was because she agreed with his reasoning. “It’s not like you to make a decision so… so…”

  He grinned. “I know. You’re rubbing off on me.”

  Maybe he was trying to make her laugh, but a
ll she could do was stare at him. “You really mean it?” she asked in a whisper.

  “I do.” The words sounded almost portentous. “I’ve been sitting outside in a hammock all night, and I know this is what I want. I hope it’s—at least a little?—what you want too?” She nodded, still dazed.

  Jace smiled. “I texted Will first thing this morning, said I wanted to talk to him about a double-wedding. He seems really happy for us, but said we had to come talk to Ellie about logistics. I figured that we could go into Riston today to apply for a license, and your maid-of-honor dress is already that nice cream color. Unless you wanted something else, I mean, then we could drive into Post Falls or even Spokane this afternoon and pick—”

  “It’s fine, Jace.” She squeezed his hands to cut him off. “But…really? You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “You haven’t said how you feel about it, Dink.” His expression turned wary. “I just realized I ran in here and blurted this all at you and I don’t even know how you feel. Maybe after yesterday…”

  There was a burst of something in her chest, something that filled up the emptiness. Something warm and light that trailed down her limbs and up her neck. She smiled, and squeezed his hands again. “I love you, Jason Cunningham. I know we haven’t known one another too long, but you make me want to be a better person, and I think we fit together pretty well.”

  The smile that bloomed across his face then was like nothing she’d seen on him before. His teeth were straight and white against his skin, and she untangled one of her hands to cup his cheek. “I love you, and I was heart-broken yesterday when I thought…”

  “I’m so sorry, Dink.”

  In that moment, Dink knew that despite the horrible way she’d felt yesterday, there was no need to re-hash it. He loved her, and that was what was important. They were going to fight in the future—maybe more than other couples did—but as long as he loved her enough to think about her viewpoint, like he’d obviously done last night, they’d survive.