by Candis Terry
She let go another sigh that tore through his soul.
“I wanted to get all that anger off my chest, Jackson. I needed to do it for me.” Those eyes narrowed. “Surely, someone as fiery-tempered as you can understand that.”
Her clasped hands trembled. “I was halfway to Houston when your mother called to tell me about the fire. And you know what? Not for one minute did I hesitate to turn my car around. Because you were more important.”
Jackson swallowed the lump in his throat.
“You’ve been my best friend for most of my life,” she continued. “I thought if anyone might understand how I felt, it would be you.”
“Abby, I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, I do,” she said, her jaw tight. “I love you, Jackson. With all my heart. I’ve always loved you. I’m in love with you. And I’ve waited my whole life for you to love me back. But you can’t keep pushing me away when things don’t go just right. I know you’ve had some devastating moments in your life. And I know it’s easier to pull back and feel safe than if you put yourself out there to possibly feel that pain of loss or failure again. But in my opinion, it’s always worth a try.”
“I thought . . .”
“That I was leaving you like before?”
He could only nod.
“Never even entered my mind.”
The sincerity in her eyes brought everything home in the center of his chest. He thought of the kisses they’d shared, and he wasn’t at all surprised to realize he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her now.
“When I thought you needed me, I came back as fast as I could,” she said. “To be here for you. To try and make you understand how much you mean to me. But if you’re not willing to fight for what we have . . .”
She rose to her feet. He found himself looking up at her and knew he’d never forget the pain in her eyes. She stood there as if waiting for him to jump in and say something. To rescue the moment. Their relationship. Live up to that act-first, think-later behavior he’d honed over the years.
But the power and passion of her words rendered him speechless.
She let go a disenchanted sigh. “Then I guess you’re right. We’re done.”
A helpless weight crushed down on him as he watched the woman he loved so much it was like a tangled ache in his chest walk through the hospital doors and out of his life.
The battles of his soul seemed nothing compared to battling a pair of crutches while trying to open the heavy doors to the old shed. Days after he’d left the hospital, Jackson stood in the bright sunlight looking into the darkness as his gaze ping-ponged back and forth from his father’s white Ford truck to his brother’s green Chevy.
After their deaths, his mother hadn’t been able to get rid of the vehicles, and she’d put them in storage. Over time, Jackson had been glad. While Reno and Jesse often visited the two graves up on the hill, he’d always felt closer to the two men who’d meant so much to him by driving their trucks. And while they might no longer be around to hand out advice, he hoped they could still listen.
He tossed the crutches into the bed of Jared’s truck, hobbled up into the cab, and stuck the keys in the ignition.
Beside him on the seat lay his brother’s threadbare USMC T-shirt. Hanging from the rearview mirror—his dog tags. And crumpled on the dashboard, the pack of Marlboros that signified his brother’s one and only fault.
Jackson threw the truck in reverse and backed out of the garage. When he put the four-wheel drive into gear and pulled out onto the road, he pushed in the CD left by his brother and grinned at Waylon Jennings’s outlaw way of turning a song. Jared had always been an old-time Waylon, Willie, Merle, and Hank fan. He’d laughed, as the rest of them moved toward country pop and called him a redneck.
Cranking the volume up to ear-shattering, Jackson sped out onto the gravel. For miles and miles, he burned up the backroads, kicking up dust, and letting his troubles fade into the sunset. He could almost feel his brother right there beside him, grinning, and yahooing it up as Waylon launched into “I’ve Always Been Crazy.”
When the gas gauge ran low, Jackson headed to the creek and parked in the shade of the tree house. He turned off the engine, and the music died. For several minutes, he looked out over the water, where the sunlight danced on the ripples and whitewashed rocks. Then he laid his head back and closed his eyes.
I fucked up, Jared, and I wish you were here to tell me what to do.
In his mind, he imagined his brother’s deep laughter.
You’ve always known what to do.
Jackson slowly shook his head.
Yeah. You do. You let go. You live. You love. You be happy. And someday, when you’re a bald old fuck with more wrinkles than hard-ons, we’ll meet again. And I’ll still beat you at poker.
Jackson laughed.
Something brushed his fingers, and he opened his eyes. There, lying on top of his hand, was the old snapshot that had been tucked into the sun visor.
The photo was of all five of them before they’d gone off to boot camp. They’d stuck Abby in the middle. “Beauty and the beasts,” Jared had joked. They all stood side by side, arm in arm. Jackson to Abby’s left. Jared to her right. While he and all his brothers looked into the camera and grinned like fools, Abby looked up at him.
He could deny it all he wanted, but it was there. He could see it now. The love of a woman he should be fighting for instead of fighting off.
You live. You love. You be happy.
Jackson smiled. “I hear you, brother,” he said. “Loud and clear.”
Chapter 20
For two weeks, Abby got up each day for work. She put in eight hours behind the desk at the clinic, then managed to put in another two hours of research for her rescue center.
Annie had made it home and, after several tearful days and nights, she seemed to settle down and accept that she and her baby were probably going to be much better off without the loser in their lives. Abby had done her best to keep her mouth shut about the little worm. Because really, who was she to hand out advice? She’d made plenty of her own mistakes. She’d trusted all the wrong people, then tried to blame them for her own inadequacies.
Things were different now.
She knew where she’d been. And now she knew where she needed to go.
Understanding hadn’t come easily, but it was hard to think when your heart was clogged up with love for a man who needed to come to his own conclusions.
You didn’t stop loving a man because he wouldn’t admit he loved you back. A man brave enough to rush into a burning building yet fearful to live in the moment and allow himself to be loved. To fail. To realize, above anything else, that he was human. With faults a mile long.
She didn’t know what he planned to do after his bones healed. She hoped he’d find a soft part of that thick skull to let in the important things in life.
He was an amazing father.
A wonderful soul.
But he needed to learn to let go.
To trust himself and the love she had to offer.
In his mind, he’d failed the day he hadn’t been able to save Jared from the bullet that had taken his life. He hadn’t been able to stop his father from giving up. And he hadn’t been able to rescue a marriage that seemed doomed from the start. She couldn’t change the events in his life. But at some point, he had to recognize the need to move past them.
All she could do was hold on to hope and keep moving forward—one shaky footstep at a time.
When her phone had chimed that morning, and she heard his voice on the opposite end of the line, she’d been surprised.
When he’d asked her to meet him out at the tree house, she’d been suspicious.
But that hadn’t stopped her.
With the sun on her face, Abby got out of the SUV, shaded her eyes with one hand, and glanced across the meadow to where yellow caution tape had been strung to form a great big rectangle. She couldn’t imagine what it was for and wo
uldn’t even attempt to guess.
Instead, she strolled over to the creek and looked up at the tree house, where so many memorable moments in her life had taken place. Alone, she looked around and took in the beauty of the oaks and elms, the tall grass, the occasional clusters of prickly pear, and the gentle, rolling hills.
The Wilder Ranch had always given her a sense of happiness, belonging, and peace. Even when there had been five ornery little boys playing Army, with their plastic guns and helmets.
Moments later, Jackson’s big silver truck pulled up and parked beside her SUV.
Though she’d kept tabs on him via his mother and the rest of his family, she hadn’t seen him since the day she’d walked out of the hospital. In a loose pair of jeans—one pant leg cut up the side to make room for his cast—and a blue T-shirt that matched his eyes, he looked good. Tanned. Healthy. That last day at the hospital, he’d looked pale and in pain.
Her heart took a little trip as he came toward her, his crutches making circular dents in the sandy soil.
“Progress,” she said, as he carefully made his way over to her.
“I’ve got a long way to go,” he said with a tenuous smile, and she wondered if that comment might have deeper meaning.
He stopped in front of her, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Every hormonal cell in her body reacted, and she had to cross her arms to keep from flinging them around his big, muscular body.
“Thanks for meeting me here,” he said in a businesslike manner.
“Sure.” She ignored the swarm of nerves in her stomach and shrugged. “It will be impossible not to see each other around town, so I figured . . . why not.”
“I hope that’s true.”
“Why did you ask me out here? I don’t imagine you can climb the ladder to the tree house.”
“Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder to the wooden structure and sighed. “Not for a while.”
His gaze came back to hers, with the outer corners dipped down, displaying the distress that matched the deep furrows in his forehead. “I wanted to apologize to you,” he said.
“You could have done that over the phone.”
“I could have. But . . . if you’ll just let me have my say, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Go ahead.” She tried to sound indifferent but probably failed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I just needed some time to get past what happened. I realize now that I’ve blamed myself for failing at a lot of things I really had no control over. The rest, I just continued to beat myself up. And then I was just plain frozen in fear to move forward. I think I finally understand that I’ve just been getting in the way of myself.”
He reached down and took her hand. Placed her palm against his heart.
Her own heart reacted with a wild thump.
“Everything you said was true. I have been pushing you away,” he said. “And I haven’t been honest. I didn’t realize I was the one with the problem. I’ve always trusted you, Abby. I just didn’t trust myself.”
His big shoulders lifted on another sigh, and it took everything she had to just stand there and let him talk.
“I’m stubborn,” he said. “And I’m rash. And I’m a million other things that should make you run as far away from me as possible. But I hope you won’t. You make me want to be a better man, Abby. With you, I am a better man.”
“Jackson, I—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Let me finish. Please. Then if you want to get in your car and drive away, I’ll try to understand. Okay?”
Emotion clogged her throat, and she could only nod.
“You see that yellow tape over there in the middle of those live oaks?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s where I plan to build a house. And I wanted to know what you thought about that.”
Confused at the shift in conversation, she looked across the tall grass. “I think it’s a perfect spot.”
“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Because that’s where I want to build our house. I’m thinking a two-story.” His smile widened, vividly reminding her how useful stairs could be for something other than getting from one floor to another.
“Our house?”
He nodded. Cupped her face in his big hands. “I love you, Abby. I always have. I always will. I don’t want to dwell on the past anymore. I want to live, love, and be happy. With you. I want you with me always. If you still love me, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
If?
There was no if.
“I just . . . want to make you happy,” he added.
“Maybe we could find a way to make each other happy.”
His smile lit her up on the inside.
“Maybe we can start with this.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a beautiful diamond ring that sparkled in the sunlight. “I’d get down on one knee, but I’d probably do more damage. And I want to be healthy enough to carry you across the threshold very soon. If you’ll say yes.”
Behind her tears, his handsome face blurred.
“Marry me, Abby. Be my wife. My happiness. The mother of my children. My best friend forever.” He took a breath. “Let’s make a promise to love, honor, and cherish each other for as long as we both shall live.”
Without waiting for her response, he slipped the ring on her finger and looked up, with hope brightening those amazing blue eyes. “Say yes, Abby. Say yes, and I promise to spend every day of the rest of my life proving how much I love you.”
“You make it very difficult for a girl to say no.”
“Then please don’t.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Heart bursting, she wove her arms around his neck. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. And nothing will ever stop me. Not even that hard, stubborn head of yours.”
Then she rose to her toes and took the kiss she’d wanted from the moment he’d gotten out of his truck and hobbled his way over to stand before her and bare his soul.
“Yes, Jackson, I’ll marry you. I’ll be your wife. Your happiness. The mother of your children. And your best friend forever.”
When he bent his head and kissed her, a ray of sunlight shot rainbow sparks off the ring on her finger.
Jackson Wilder was all she’d ever wanted.
And now he was hers.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the day she’d walked out of his life had been her biggest mistake.
Finding her way back?
Definitely the sweetest.
This summer, return to Candis Terry’s Sweet, Texas, and the wild Wilder brothers for . . .
Something Sweeter
A dream come true . . .
To the single women of Sweet, Texas, former Marine, Jesse Wilder is hot, hunky perfection, with six-pack abs and a heart of gold. He’s a veterinarian who loves animals and kids, is devoted to his family, and financially stable.
The best part? No woman has yet snagged him or put a ring on his finger.
The problem? Jesse’s been down a long, bumpy road and isn’t the least bit interested in setting his boots on the path to matrimony.
Comes heart-to-heart with a wedding planner and her big secret . . .
Sure, Allison Lane makes a living helping others plan their big day, but that doesn’t mean she has to actually believe in matrimonial bliss. Her family’s broken track record proves she just doesn’t have the settle-down gene swimming in her DNA. And though she finds Jesse fantasy material, why should she take the word of this confirmed playboy that all roads lead to “I do”?
In their battle for a happily-ever-after
Coming Summer 2014
About the Author
CANDIS TERRY was born and raised near the sunny beaches of Southern California and now makes her home on an Idaho farm. She’s experienced life in such diverse ways as working in a Hollywood recording studio to chasing down wayward steers. Only one thing has remained the same: her passion for writing stories about relationships,
the push and pull in the search for love, and the security one finds in their own happily-ever-after.
Please visit her on the web at www.candisterry.com and connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
By Candis Terry
Sweetest Mistake
Anything But Sweet
Somebody Like You
Any Given Christmas
Second Chance at the Sugar Shack
Short Stories
Home Sweet Home
(from For Love and Honor and Crazy Sweet Fine)
Coming Soon
Something Sweeter
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SWEETEST MISTAKE. Copyright © 2014 by Candis Terry. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
