by Nicole Helm
It shouldn’t make him angry. It did, but he knew it shouldn’t, so he fought to maintain a calm demeanor. “Maybe I don’t have enough in me anymore.” It thrummed through him, that lie. He loved her, too damn much. Why couldn’t she see it wasn’t enough? “Some of us continually get beaten down by life, while the rest of us get everything we want.” Which was a damn petty thing to say, but he was struggling to care, even with the roil of guilt in his gut.
“Mature, Carter. Blame me. I’ve gotten everything easy. You’ve gotten nothing, even though you’ve worked hard. But I don’t feel bad for you. I don’t feel sorry for you. You have persevered and built things. You’re fine. Maybe a whiny ass, but fine.”
“Now who’s being mature?”
She pointed to her door, shaking with anger, not that he could blame her. He was damn angry too. Furious, at himself, at her, at the damn world.
“Get out of my apartment,” she demanded.
“Gladly.” He walked out full of regret and shame, but mostly what made his throat tight and his chest constrict was more than shame or fear or hurt. It was more than not knowing how to believe and how to help.
It was understanding that no matter how he tried or moved or worked, loss was always around the corner. He thought he had built something, and it was swept away.
It didn’t seem to matter whether he believed or not, whether he worked hard or not. Mom and Grandma had died. His dad had sold and left, his sisters had left.
For the first time in a long time, he’d felt hope and love again, thinking his relationship with Dinah could be different. But it wasn’t.
He didn’t know who to blame. He didn’t know how to accept it. It wasn’t selling off land, or death. It wasn’t an irrevocable thing, out of his control.
This was something far more complicated, and possibly his own damn fault.
Chapter 18
Dinah didn’t sleep. She tossed and she turned and she cried, but she most definitely didn’t sleep.
When 4:00 a.m. rolled around, she figured it was a lost cause. She might as well get up and go to work.
She hated Carter for making things so confusing. For taking all her certainty and mixing it with insecurity. She was sure she loved him. She was sure they could work it out, but not if he didn’t want to.
She didn’t regret the words she’d said to him. She didn’t have any sympathy for him when he had worked so hard and overcome so much. How could he not know how strong and invincible that made him?
How could he not know that when he lost things, he just built something new and worked even harder? She admired that about him so much. She didn’t know how to tell him that she had to believe, and she had to fight, and she had to be certain in order to do it all. She didn’t know if she could rebuild like he had. She knew Carter could stand up and fight and start over and she . . .
She was so afraid of her inability to do that.
She got ready for the day feeling sick to her stomach and . . . just sad. Sad because he wasn’t going to be showing up at her apartment offering her comfort. Sad because she didn’t know what she felt or what to do. Every time in the past few weeks that she’d gotten a handle on things, life swept it all away. Kicked it out from under her. She couldn’t get her footing. She’d move up the hill and then get knocked back.
It wasn’t fair and she didn’t like it.
In the dark of a fall morning, she drove to Gallagher’s. She parked in the back, but instead of using the employee entrance, she walked around to the front.
She stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the place that had been her home and her life for as long as she could remember. It was . . . just a place. But it was hers. It was in her heart and her bones. She knew that.
But what did it give her?
Lately all it seemed to do was cause her to lose the people she cared about.
She tried to shake away the thought as the sun began to rise over the beautiful brick building that had stood there for a century. No matter how much she loved it, and she did with all of her heart and soul, it was just a building. It wasn’t a friend to commiserate with. It wasn’t a cousin to cry with over family drama. It certainly couldn’t offer a hug when she felt like her world was falling apart. It couldn’t say I love you.
She didn’t know how to give it up, but she didn’t know how to sacrifice those other things for it either. For the first time in her life, Dinah didn’t know what to do or what to feel when it came to Gallagher’s.
“You’re certainly here early.”
Dinah jumped and screeched, then turned to face her grandmother, who was standing there on the sidewalk, leaning on the cane she rarely let anyone see.
“So are you,” Dinah returned, shaky from surprise and nerves.
“I like to watch the sunrise over what I’ve built.” Grandmother smiled an odd smile Dinah couldn’t read, and took a seat on a little bench where people sat when there was a wait line.
“I see you’re doing the same,” Grandmother said, placing the cane to the side Dinah wasn’t standing on.
“I suppose I am.” Dinah returned her gaze to the building and the pearly pink sky. “Beautiful.”
“It is. My father used to do this too. He would come read his morning paper right on this bench. It’s one of the things about Gallagher’s that I love so much. I can sit where my father sat and do what my father did. I can feel his presence.”
“What about your own mark?”
Grandmother shook her head. “I’ve done a lot for Gallagher’s over the years, and certainly I’m proud of my contributions. But the reason I come here even now is for the memories of the people I love.”
“How surprisingly sentimental of you.”
“Now, don’t be cross. I am sentimental. About this place, about our legacy. The only love that matters is the love of your family. The rest can be sucked away, as you should know by your father’s actions.”
“But he’s my family, and I can’t trust that anymore, can I?” There was a pain there, a swirling, dark one she’d been trying to avoid for a year: Betrayal was one of those injuries that didn’t get to heal, that her determination couldn’t bulldoze over.
It swamped her, in the shadow of Gallagher’s, in the shadow of her grandmother’s words.
“I coddled him too much,” Grandmother said with such certainty. As though that was all it could be. She’d coddled him. He’d turned into an adulterous asshole. “Both of them. I let them think they were kings of the world. Biggest mistake I ever made. I won’t make the same mistake with you. Dinah, you could be everything I was, and more. Women in your generation have more respect, more opportunities. You could make this place something bigger than it is. I never thought it would be possible with my sons, but it’s possible with you.”
“What is it about me that gives you that confidence?” Maybe if she knew, it would fix all this pain and all this uncertainty, and all this longing for people who looked at Gallagher’s like a curse or a poison.
“Because you’ve been willing to sacrifice anything and everything for Gallagher’s. Nothing has ever gotten in your way. Your focus is laserlike. You’re not wrapped up in ego like your uncle. You’re not selfish like your father. You always wanted this role, and you know how important it is.”
Her grandmother gave her so few positive words, Dinah couldn’t help but be flattered, knocked flat. Grandmother was sitting there telling her she could be what she’d always wanted to be.
But at what cost? A year ago, the cost would have been nothing, and Dinah would have done everything in her power to grab it, to live up to Grandmother’s words.
But something rang flat today, some cold fissure of fear undercut the pleasure of Grandmother’s praise.
“If I’m that important to Gallagher’s, why are you trying to manipulate my life?”
“Because I’ve been where you are, had to make the decisions you have to make, and I know how to make it work. I’m taking an active role, because my inactive role
with my sons was not sufficient.”
“You said you and Grandpa grew to love each other.” Dinah didn’t know why she kept circling back to that, but she’d seen their love. Recognized it.
“That happens when you marry someone. You live with them for years and have their children. Love can be grown, Dinah. It doesn’t have to exist from the second you meet someone.”
Dinah let that sit. The thing was . . . love had grown between her and Carter from that first email to their first meeting and everything in between. It felt fast, but it had been a surprisingly slow and careful process.
One that had given her what Gallagher’s and her family never had: comfort and care. Someone who concerned himself with what she was feeling—not just what was best for Gallagher’s.
It was weird to think about having kids in this moment, but she did want kids in the future. She wanted them to feel the same connection to Gallagher’s that she did, but now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to force these kinds of expectations on her future children. She wasn’t sure she wanted to fall in love with someone after she’d had his children.
She just wasn’t sure about anything. She sat next to her grandmother and took a deep breath. “Are you happy, Grandmother? Is this what you dreamed of when you married someone you didn’t love and had kids and worked relentlessly for Gallagher’s? Is this what you pictured and wanted?”
“Oh, Dinah, life is never what we picture or imagine. Even when it is.”
Those words hit. Hard. So much like what Kayla and Carter had been saying to her lately. That plans don’t always work out, and maybe they shouldn’t.
She would never walk away from Gallagher’s. It was her soul, but did that mean things needed to go exactly according to plan? Did she really have to be director of operations to be happy here?
Her hands shook, her eyes pricking with tears at the thought, but there was a kind of lightness with this question. A heavy weight lifted.
She glanced at her grandmother, who was watching Gallagher’s with a certain reverence Dinah understood. She felt it too.
But it hit her with a certain clarity that she didn’t want to be in her eighties looking at a building like it was her child. She wanted to be looking at her children and her grandchildren, feeling like she’d done right by them, like she’d done right by herself.
She wanted relationships that fulfilled her heart, and this place that was her soul. But not one at the cost of the other.
“I’m going to keep seeing Carter. I’m in love with him, and if that means I don’t get the director of operations job, that’s fine. I’ll stay on in whatever role you and Craig allow me.” In the silent aftermath of that blurting of information, an odd noise came out of her. Fear shot through her, but she didn’t open her mouth to retract her words.
She didn’t want to.
“And if I threatened to fire you if you continue to see him?”
Dinah hadn’t seen that threat coming, though she probably should have. But the answer was simple. It was always her answer. “I’ll fight you. I’ll take it to the board. To anyone who’ll listen. This is my rightful place. If my choice of romantic partner is your only reason for keeping me away from here, then I will do everything in my power to fight you, because that is wrong. I know it’s wrong.” A belief. A certainty. No one could take those things away from her.
She was sure. She just had to have some flexible surety. She had to step away from the life she’d always planned, and work on the life she wanted.
“You’ll lose, Dinah.”
“I won’t stop fighting, Grandmother. And you can’t live forever.”
Grandmother eyed her and Dinah couldn’t read her expression, but she didn’t back down. She would fight for Gallagher’s. And she would fight for Carter. They couldn’t make her choose, because she would never give up on Gallagher’s even if they fired her. She would never give up on Carter even if he hated her.
Because she loved them both, and even if it took her whole damn life, she wouldn’t give them up.
* * *
Carter had a lot of regrets in his life. Mostly ones that he hadn’t really been able to control or do anything about. There was a weird kind of freedom in those regrets. He hadn’t been able to do anything about them. They were what they were, and that was life.
His regrets about Dinah were far different, and he couldn’t brush them aside as though there was nothing he could do. There was no doubt in his mind he was at least a little bit to blame in this whole situation.
Maybe if he’d needed less from her, or healed that hurt he’d lived so many times, he would’ve been able to do the things she asked. He could’ve had a secret relationship, he could have believed, he could love, even knowing he’d never be the one she chose.
But what would it hurt him to pretend? What would it hurt him to have a secret relationship with her? All it would hurt was his pride and, well, maybe a little bit more than that. But was pride so important? He could have her if he wanted her.
Somehow he couldn’t get over the feeling that it would all be pointless someday. Because he knew choices came whether you wanted them to or not, and ultimatums were made, and life didn’t always make compromise possible. Sometimes life kicked you in the balls and made you take the hard way out.
He didn’t want to be the carnage in her hard way out someday. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t get over what he felt. As much as he loved her, he understood the love she had for Gallagher’s. It would always be a threat to their relationship.
He tried to think of it in terms of the farm. Maybe someday he’d have to choose between her and the farm. He wouldn’t be able to choose her, but something in his heart was pierced at the thought. It scared him that he could think that maybe he could put her above the rest.
He’d left so many pieces of land and pieces of his heart behind, what would be one more, if it meant he could be with her?
He scrubbed his hands through his hair even though they were filthy with compost and dirt. But that thought kept taunting him—that he would give up this for her, even though it was the last piece of himself.
But was it? He would always have the years he put into this land. He would always know he’d built this, just as his childhood memories of the farm were always there. His.
Nothing lasted. Nothing stayed forever. Life always went on. If he could have his grandmother back, his mother back, his family here, would he be willing to give this up?
It wasn’t even a question. To have those people he loved back in his life, he would give up anything. He loved Dinah, and even though he hated to admit it, and wished he could be different, he would give up his farm for her.
So, accepting a secret relationship, or accepting that Dinah didn’t love him enough to make the same choice—that would always be too much to bear.
Carter sat back on his heels on the pathway and looked out at all that he had built in the past few years. It filled him with pride and filled him with a sense of accomplishment, but, God, he wanted Dinah here to feel that with him.
Against his will, his gaze drifted to Gallagher’s. It was early. Dinah probably wouldn’t be at work yet, but he could picture her there. In her ridiculous heels and put-together outfits and colorful makeup and the perfectly wavy hair. She made such a picture.
He didn’t know how to live with her knowing he could always be sacrificed for Gallagher’s, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to live without her.
Which didn’t make any damn sense considering he’d lived most of his life without her. But she’d walked in and given him something he’d lost along with all of the other losses in his life. Someone to hold him when the world sucked. Someone who made him laugh. Someone who sat on this porch with him and looked out at all he’d built with the same sense of satisfaction.
Maybe there was someone else out there like her. Someone else who could fill that spot. It was possible, but with the heavy outline of Gallagher’s in the distance, he wasn’t sure he’
d ever be able to fully enjoy life with anyone other than Dinah.
He looked away from Gallagher’s and back at his plants. Regardless of the riot of screwed-up feelings, he still had a farm to tend. Simone had emailed him some of her winter menu ideas, and he had to determine if he could supply her with the necessary produce.
He had half a fleeting thought to give up his partnership with Gallagher’s, if only so he didn’t have to see Dinah, but not only was that cowardly, he would lose something he wanted.
He wasn’t sure he could accept never seeing Dinah again anyway. If they couldn’t work it out, then at least he could see her doing the thing she loved so much.
“You need a radio out here or something.”
Carter didn’t whirl around, mostly because he thought he might be hallucinating.
“Radio, huh?”
“It would break up some of the silence, and then people couldn’t hear you muttering curse words all the way out on the sidewalk.”
Carter listened to the unmistakable sound of high heels clicking against the stone path as she moved closer.
Bracing himself, he slowly got to his feet and turned. Dinah looked as she always looked. Perfectly put together. Beautiful. Sexy as hell.
“I’m not really in the mood to fight,” he said, keeping his hands at his sides by sheer force of will. What he really wanted to do was reach out, touch her, make her promises he couldn’t keep.
“Good. Neither am I.”
“I don’t think there’s anything we can talk about that we won’t fight about.”
“Per usual, you’re wrong.”
“Dinah.” How the hell she made him want to yell and laugh at the same time was beyond him.
She linked her hands in front of her, and after weeks of paying attention, he’d finally realized that was her show of nerves. He softened, against his will.
“I talked to my grandmother this morning. I sat there and watched the sunrise over Gallagher’s and I asked her if she was happy. If she was fulfilled.”
