“None of them.” Jasper rolled his eyes. “I know.”
“Let me ask you this—if that mountain right there blows its top tomorrow morning and buries this town in molten ash, are you going to wish you had gone all-in with Emma? Or wish you’d run the other way?”
“That mountain isn’t a volcano, Dad.”
“Not my point.”
“I know.” He sighed, thinking about Emma, curled up in his robe Sunday morning, feeding the kittens. He pictured her laughing as they rode the Whisper Creek trails, shaking as he held her tight in the tree, quivering under his every touch Saturday night.
Then he pictured his place in November—cold, gray, and empty of everything except furniture and memories.
He’d touched her, he’d tasted her, and in his darkest moments over the past twenty-four hours, he’d tried to convince himself that it was all part of a consequence he deserved. He couldn’t have her, but he could damn well want her, and that was kind of the most perfect punishment ever.
—
“Knock, knock.” Jasper’s deep voice startled Emma late that afternoon, and she spun around in her chair, almost losing her balance. “Thinking deep thoughts?”
She shoved her bare feet back into her sandals, mortified to have been caught with her feet up on the sill, staring out the window.
“Always.” She cleared her throat. “Um, hi.”
“Hey.” He looked sheepish. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She shuffled some papers, trying to look like she’d been doing something besides spending the last two days trying to figure out why in the world he’d gone AWOL. “How’s Archie doing? I, um, heard you stayed most of the night with him.”
Yeah, Archie. That’s what I want to talk about right now.
“He’ll be back here driving you crazy by morning.”
“Excellent.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”
“He’s too ornery to go anywhere for a long time.” Jasper sat in the chair facing her desk, but he looked decidedly uncomfortable, and only partly because the thing was too small for his frame. “So…”
She tipped her head. “So…”
“I have an apology to make.”
“Okay?” Emma crossed her arms.
“I’ve been busy the past two days—you know—since you left. But I haven’t been too busy to check in.”
“You don’t owe me a check-in, Jasper.”
“Yeah. I do.” He tipped his head. “I most definitely do. And I’m sorry that I made sure to stay busy enough that I could convince myself that that’s why I hadn’t called you, or stopped by.”
Her stomach squeezed. Well, this was going nowhere good.
“I’m not sure how to respond to that.” She shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry I did whatever I did to send you running. Obviously that wasn’t my intent. But please don’t apologize. We had a good time. It was fun. We’re adults. Things—happen.”
“I don’t regret anything. Not one bit.”
“Well, I didn’t, either, but then you scurried for the hills, so then I did.” She uncrossed her arms, leaning on her desk. “Wait—you don’t regret anything?”
“No.” He sighed. “I tried to, I’ll be honest. I’ve spent the past two days kicking myself for falling for you, kicking myself for taking you home, kicking myself for allowing myself to believe this could be anything more than temporary.”
“That’s a lot of kicking.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes. And none of it worked. A huge part of me feels tremendous guilt for letting things get this far this fast, but another part of me just wants to sit back, view you as an incredible gift, and see what happens.”
“Oh.” Emma swallowed nervously. “Which part of you is winning?”
“I’m…not sure.”
Her chest squeezed. Great. “Okay. I get it. I do.”
“It’s just—our lives are a continent apart, practically. That’s the reality, and I don’t want to be that guy standing at the airport two months from now, singing some sad country song as he watches a plane take off, knowing his heart is in it.”
“Wow, Jasper. That was kind of poetic.”
And could you repeat the part about your heart, please?
“Thank you.” He shook his head. “I’m serious, Emma.”
“Oh, I get that part. Loud and clear.” She crossed her arms again. “Want to know what I think?”
“Absolutely.”
“I think I’m scared out of my absolute gourd, because you make me feel things I do not want to feel. I think I’m scared that I’ll have to get on that plane in way too few weeks, and I’ll hate leaving you behind. But mostly? I’m scared that I could feel either of those things so quickly. So either I’ve become embarrassingly desperate in my spinsterhood, or there’s something about us that maybe deserves some exploration. Either way, one approach here would be to just pretend I’m not temporary and see what happens.”
“Is there any chance you could ever see yourself leaving Florida? For real?”
Emma sat back. She’d been pondering that same question for a week straight now, and still hadn’t come to a conclusion.
“The romantic in me, who’s thinking only in flowers and rainbows and Whisper Creek trees, wants to say of course I’d move somewhere else, if there was somebody special enough to move for.”
“Okay? I like her.”
Emma smiled. “The realist in me, though, has spent ten years building a career at Galway Health and is one step from a director’s or vice president’s position. Those positions don’t exist out here in Montana. They exist in Florida.” She shrugged slowly. “It’s all I know, Jasper. It’s what I went to school for, what I’ve always envisioned my ultimate career looking like, and it’s a little tough right now to say, ‘Heck, yeah. I’d give it all up.’ ”
“I get it.” He looked down, and she felt the air shift. “I headed out to Whisper Creek this afternoon and took a long ride, hoping—I don’t know—I guess hoping I’d figure it all out.”
“And did you?”
“I—I think I did.”
Emma looked up, meeting his eyes. And then her stomach sank, because the way he laid those four words out in the space between them told her everything.
“I can’t do it, Emma. I can’t do it to you. I went down this path once before, and”—he shook his head—“I’m not yet in a space where I can do it again. I hate that I’m not, and I hate more that I opened a door I never should have opened the other night, but I don’t want to be a regret for you. I can’t be. I’m so, so sorry.”
Emma sat back, feeling like she’d been slapped silly. That was not what she’d expected, after his intro. Not at all.
She felt a distinct prick behind her eyes, and knew she had about thirty seconds before tears erupted.
She was not going to cry.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Thank you for being honest.”
“Ah, hell, Em. I feel terrible.”
“Well, good news. You look terrible, too.” She took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the stupid tears. It had been one night—just one night. She wasn’t a starry-eyed twenty-one-year-old. She was a grown woman who was fully capable of both understanding the reality of their current situation…and accepting that Jasper was right.
Because he was. She knew he was. The only thing she’d have had at the end of this—whatever it might have been—was a broken heart.
“Thanks for coming back from the hills to talk to me.” She tried to muster up a smile. “And thank you for a fantastic weekend, Jasper. I’ll never forget it.”
“Neither will I.” His voice sounded miserable as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I promise you that.”
“Well, that makes it all better, now, doesn’t it?”
Aw, dammit. Her voice sounded all choked.
“No.” He shook his head as he stood up. “No, it doesn’t. I’m sorry, Em. I wish—hell—I just wish it c
ould be different.”
Chapter 24
“You. Are. An. Idiot.” Liam was the first one through the door the next morning, fresh from what looked like one of his ten-milers.
“Well, you smell. Get out of my café before people show up for coffee.”
“Not leaving.”
He sat down on one of the barstools, and Jasper took a deep breath, preparing for a reaming. How the hell did Liam even know already?
“What happened?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, bullshit. One day it’s all sleeping in and closing the café, and three days later, you’ve reportedly given her the boot?”
Jasper turned around from the percolators. “I did not give anyone any boot. And you closed the café, not me. Also, who exactly is giving you information on my personal life without me knowing?”
“Doesn’t matter. You know how this town works. I heard it, so I’m confirming it. Did you, in fact, call things off with Emma?”
“You can’t call off what never really got started, Liam.”
“Huh. Gotcha.” He nodded slowly, like he was pondering. Then, “Bullshit.”
“Love you like a brother, but there’s a line, buddy. And you’re stepping damn close to it. I did what I had to do to protect Emma. That was my only goal, and I did the right thing.”
“What are you protecting her from, if I can be so bold?”
“You know very well what I’m protecting her from.”
“Right. The big, bad past life of Jasper Stone. From which he has refused to move forward, though it’s been five effing years.”
Jasper sent him an icy glare. “Line.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“I already do.”
“Then why?”
Jasper sighed. “Because I’ve already screwed up enough lives, Liam. I was a crap husband. I was a selfish bastard who let the shine of courtroom stardom blind me to the fact that I was losing my wife, inch by inch by inch. So excuse me if I don’t get the warm fuzzies over thinking I could do it any better the second time around.”
“You’re not the same person as you were. You know that.”
“Knowing it and living it are two different things. And I’m not willing to put Emma in that position, knowing I could screw her up, too. She’s too good a person to do that to, and in ten weeks, she’ll be back home in Florida, not crying over whatever might have happened.”
“Oh, so you’re saving her from a broken heart.” He nodded. “I see.”
“I don’t need this right now.” Jasper placed pastries on a tray. “So if your main intention was to come in here and make me feel like crap, you don’t need to bother. I’m already well down that road.”
—
“Emma?” Hayley called through the screen door of her cabin one evening a week later. “You in here?”
Emma stood up from the chair in her bedroom, wiping her eyes quickly. “Hey, Hayls,” she said as she walked toward the door. “What’s up?”
“I need a favor.” Hayley held up a laundry basket.
Emma opened the door. “I don’t have a washing machine in here.” Then she peered into the basket and saw a lumpy pile of soft black-and-white fur. “Oh-h. Not laundry.”
Hayley stepped into the living area and put down the basket. “Nope! Kittens! Am I the best friend ever, or what? I brought you kittens!”
“You—what?”
“You know how the other day you were feeling all morose about not seeing Jasper’s kittens?”
“I don’t think I ever mentioned Jasper’s kittens, no.”
“Oh. Huh. Well, I was sure you had. But, anyway, good news! I have more!”
“Um—”
“Coyote got the mom, so it’s kind of a desperate situation, see.” Hayley raised one pathetic eyebrow. “And my primary foster guy’s already got a litter, so I thought of you!”
“Because?”
“Because you love his, and because you’ll be here for the perfect amount of time to get these little dumplings strong enough to be adopted, and because…I decided.”
“You decided.”
“Honestly, you should feel pretty lucky right now. You should see what I foisted on Shelby when she was staying here. You’re getting off easy.”
“Just a quick question?”
“Sure! And the answer is yes.” She pulled a big fabric bag from her shoulder and set it down next to the basket. “I’ve got all of the formula and little blankets and everything you’ll need right here.”
“That’s not my question.”
“I know.” Hayley looked up at the sky innocently. “But that’s the one I’m answering.”
“What if I can’t do it?”
“Then I’ll ask somebody else. But I wanted to give you first dibs. Since you’re not spending so much time with Jasper—which I still think is a crime, but you told me three days ago to shut up about it, so I’m trying—I figured you’ve got some hours that could use filling. So…kittens!”
“I work all day, Hayls. They’ll need to be fed.”
“Easy! Just take them with you! Or if you can’t, Ma said you could bring them up to the kitchen, and she’ll watch them during the day.”
“I see.”
“Here’s the thing—if you take the kittens, then I won’t come asking you to take something else a lot less cute.”
“Like?”
“We’ve got a batch of chickens who could use a keeper.”
Emma laughed uneasily. Apparently Hayley had decided Emma was taking the kittens. And apparently when Hayley decided something, it was just easier to go with it.
“Fine. I’ll take the kittens. But you have to give me your cell number in case I need you.”
“Done.” Hayley grinned. “And thank you, of course.”
“Oh, my goodness.” Shelby’s voice came from the porch steps. “What’s in that basket, Hayley?”
“Kittens!” Hayley playfully clasped her hands like she was freaking Santa Claus.
“You give her kittens, and I got a piglet?”
Emma’s eyes went wide. “A piglet?”
“You loved that piglet.” Hayley laughed.
Shelby shook her head as she pulled open the door and peered into the basket. “You’re lucky I was desperate for company.” Then she turned to Emma. “Be careful. Once Hayley sets her sights on somebody who needs Whisper Creek healing, she puts on her witch-doctor robes and delivers helpless baby animals.”
“Now, now,” Hayley clucked. “I just happen to be a desperate vet with a lot of homeless animals. Plight of the country doctor and all.”
“Uh-huh.” Shelby nodded. “Well, good luck with those, Emma. Hope they don’t wake up at night as much as my piglet did.”
Emma closed her eyes. So did she.
“Hey.” Shelby waved a notebook. “Anybody feel like writing a song?”
“Oh, no way.” Hayley shook her head. “Last time I tried, you didn’t like my rhymes.”
“I don’t think I ever said that.”
“You said—and I quote—‘Hayley, honey, do you think you could get us some drinks?’ ”
“And from that, you got that I didn’t like your rhymes?”
“No. From that, I got ‘please take your useless self elsewhere and let the rest of us write something that might sell someday.’ ”
Shelby laughed. “Fine. Emma? Want to give it a go? I’m totally stuck, and I need to get something on paper before Cooper comes back tonight. We’re recording next week, and we’re one song shy.”
Emma shook her head. Shelby Quinn was asking her help in writing a song? Shelby Quinn? The one who currently had three songs sitting on the top-forty country list? The one whose concert she’d gone to a year ago and never dreamed she’d actually even meet?
It was just surreal.
“Come on.” Shelby motioned her back out to the porch. “Let’s sit out here where we can stare at the horses for inspiration.
”
“Right.” Hayley rolled her eyes. “It’s the horses you’re looking to for inspiration.”
“Well? You know. Whatever happens to come along will be helpful.”
“I’ll leave you two to it, then.” Hayley headed down the steps at her customary quick clip. “Feed the kittens in an hour, Emma. The rest of the directions are in the bag.”
“Yup. Sure. Got it.” Emma’s voice faded as Hayley jogged back up the pathway to her truck. Then she turned to Shelby, who patted the porch swing cushion.
“You get used to her.” Shelby laughed. “She has a heart of gold, as long as you’re willing to admit she’s always right.”
“Well…”
“She usually is, if it helps.”
Emma smiled. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Good. Now, let’s write a song. Can you sing?”
“Not a note.”
“Do you rhyme?”
“Not on purpose.”
Shelby laughed. “Perfect. Let’s do this. I need heartache and sadness and you-done-me-wrong.”
Emma cringed. Well, she’d come to the right person. “Um, okay? How do we start?”
“I ask questions. You talk. Ready?”
“Sure?” Emma shook her head. “But first, can I take a selfie of the two of us? Because no one, and I mean no one, is going to believe I’m out here in Montana sitting on a porch swing with Shelby Quinn.”
“Eh, Shelby Quinn’s just another girl. She just happens to be lucky enough to sing for a living.”
“Right. In front of thousands of fans, while selling millions of records.”
“And I’m grateful for all of it. It was a long journey, getting to this place.” Shelby patted her shoulder. “Okay, ready? Heartbreak. Give me three ways to describe it.”
Great. Emma could think of ten, without—well—thinking.
“Painful, lonely, jagged.”
“Good.” Shelby scribbled. “I like the last one. Now, put on your heartbreak hat and tell me how it feels. Imagine the guy, and talk to him.”
Emma swallowed hard. She didn’t need to put on any stupid hat to know how it felt. She was living it right now, and even while she was fighting back tears, she was berating herself for ever falling for Jasper in the first place. How stupid and naïve could a thirty-five-year-old woman be, right?
Taking a Chance Page 21
