He took another breath and smoothed his lapels. “I gotta sit down for this.” He limped to the nearby roll top jump and sat on the curved surface covered with green artificial grass. He looked at the ground at his feet for a second, then back at her. “I realized—” He looked at her in alarm. “Ah, geez, I’m sorry, do you want to sit?” He pushed himself to his feet.
“I’m okay here.” Her voice and her expression were both soft in the honey glow of the sun.
“You’re sure? What about your”—he waved his hand at her pretty feet in the sandals she’d worn at the wedding— “gritty toes?”
“I’m okay, thanks. You were saying?”
He sat again. “I realized I’ve spent a lot of my life fighting. It’s been useful, as recently as the Uncle Mitch presentation. It’s my gut response, mostly because I always feel like I have to prove myself. But it’s also destructive. When I had that bad night in the house, I fought, and destroyed it because I hated my life. With our marriage, I didn’t fight enough. I should have fought for us. Instead, I ran when things weren’t how I wanted them.
“I’ve thought about this for five years, Bethany. I’ve gone over and over it and seen where I was wrong. Our divorce was a mistake, and I’d like to make up for it.”
She hadn’t stabbed him. So far, so good. Her eyes were locked on his.
He went on. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am about tearing down your house. I live with that every day. But I want to get past it because I can’t have that guilt hanging over me and live with you for the rest of my life. And that’s what I want, Bethany—to live with you for the rest of my life. Let me rebuild what I destroyed, only better and for us. Like our marriage—I’d like the chance to rebuild that, too, only better. We know what it takes, we know what we want, and we know we’re stronger and wiser than we were before. I’m asking you to forgive me. Or start to forgive me. Tell me it’s possible. I know it might take some time.”
He swallowed. “Um. So that’s what this”—he gestured to the box— “is about. Open it.”
She didn’t say a word, but turned to the box and went to work slicing the tape. The sides fell away, laying flat on the sandy surface of the ring to reveal an architectural model of a house and surrounding landscape. It resembled a beautiful, detailed dollhouse. She gasped. “Wow. You ordered this?”
Finn joined Bethany and said, “No. That was a ploy to get you down here; I hope you don’t count that as another trust issue,” he said, grinning. “I, uh, made this. I’m not as good as a professional model maker, but—”
“Finn! Shut up! This is amazing. What is it?”
“Our house. I’ve been working on it . . . if you must know, for years.”
She gasped again. “Our house? Really?”
He liked that.
“The roof opens like a lid.” He lifted it so she could see the interior, the room names neatly printed on the little floors. He pointed out the different rooms, the kitchen, the dining area, her office. He pointed to one of the bedrooms, and said, “This would be a good nursery someday, if you want.” He glanced at her.
“Oh,” she said. “Uh-huh.”
“And this is the room I wanted to show you the most.” The name was covered with a tiny piece of white tape. He peeled it off.
FINN’S OFFICE.
Bethany looked at him, her brows drawn together. “I don’t get it.”
“I’d work from home. I’d be here, with you. I wouldn’t be away eighty hours a week, avoiding our life and our problems. I’d be here.”
Her lips parted. “Oh . . .”
“I won’t get in your hair. I’ll have to be on job sites part of the time. You’ll get sick of me, I’m sure, but isn’t that better than never seeing me?”
“I’ll let you know.”
He laughed. “Oh, and we can build this wherever you want, but I took a guess at what you might like for your horse rescue. See? Here’s a barn, and a building for your staff. Some paddocks. There are even a few residents.” He pointed to the toy horses he’d glued in the pastures.
“Look at that!” Bethany giggled. “I’d want it with the horse rescue. I’d want to be there,” she said. As though she’s already decided to give me a second chance.
“Honey, I gotta tell ya, I’ll probably always worry about money, because of how I grew up. But this job with Uncle Mitch is golden, and the Branson house has already gotten me several recommendations. I’m making a lot of money, sweetheart, and I promise I’ll work hard to make more—but not at the expense of spending time with you. Not like before. I understand all that now, okay?”
Bethany nodded slowly. “Finn, this is beautiful.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“One more thing. I don’t drink like I used to. After I tore down the house, I had a come-to-Jesus with myself and I . . . I got scared. I’m not a teetotaler, but I haven’t gotten drunk or had more than a handful of drinks alone since that night. I . . . want you to know how much that awful night changed me. I want you to know you can trust me.”
“So you won’t tear this house down?” She nodded toward the model.
“I promise.”
They stood in silence, broken only by a few early-bird crickets. He slid his hands into his pockets. She was looking at the house. Finally, he said, “That’s all I got.”
“It’s a lot.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve been thinking about all this since you left Aspen Creek. Everything’s so monumental all of a sudden. Man, McNabb, nothing you do is small.”
“Go big or go home?”
She sighed. “You gave me the land, but you razed my house. And that’s on top of all the refuse from our marriage. And your broken leg that threw us together. I’ve been all over the map. I love you, then I’m not sure. I see me running the rescue on my own, with my clothing line going gangbusters with Kingfisher. They’re going to buy it, I just found out last night. Which means I’ll have seed money for the rescue. Which means I’m not after you for your money.” She smiled, and so did he.
She continued, “But more often—a million times more often—I picture my future with you. Don’t think I’ll forget about everything you’ve done. I mean, come on, Finn, tearing down my house? That was cold.”
“Oh, please, I know.”
She licked her lips. “But it’s history. And I believe you’re sorry and you consider it to be the stupidest, most idiotic, most horrific thing you’ve ever done.” She looked at him for confirmation.
“Yeah.”
“Good. The house razing is somewhat made up for by giving me that land. I’ve gone back and forth on this one. What it comes down to for me is, you made a huge mistake. But you did it because you were in pain—over me. It wasn’t because you’re mean or selfish. You’re trying to do the right thing now. And in the end, the horses I save aren’t going to care that you gave me that land to relieve your guilt. And . . .” She looked at the barn, then back at him. “It was extraordinary. You want my dream to come true even if it meant giving up yours, building your model homes . . . and this house is pretty sweet, too.”
She smiled, then her lips tightened. “What it comes down to is, like you said, a lot has happened to you since we were married. A lot has happened to me, too. I’ve learned about making sacrifices for someone I love and how they don’t really feel like sacrifices because they’re about love. I’ve learned about what’s important to me. I believe I’m wiser than I was five years ago and I believe you’re a better man now. But you’re also the man I never stopped loving. Because, Finn Taylor McNabb, I never did. I’m not going to tell you that you complete me, because I’m complete on my own, as are you. But I will tell you I’d be a lot happier if I could go through the next sixty or so years with you. You’re the best guy I know.” She regarded him. “So are you proposing, or what?”
She wants me t
o propose. His mouth fell open. “Coming right up.” He turned toward the barn. “Ellis? If you please.” Then he asked Bethany, “Would you prefer to sit?”
“I’ll stand, thanks.”
The barn door opened, and Ellis stood there with Amanda.
Finn asked Bethany, “Would you whistle for Brooke?”
Bethany raised her eyebrows at him, but obliged. Immediately, a gleaming Brooke trotted from the barn into the ring, straight to Bethany. Mingo streaked to Bethany and squirmed around her legs. She bent to scratch his ears and Brooke smelled Bethany’s hair. Ellis quickly closed the gate, then retreated to the doorway, where she and Amanda watched the action in the ring.
“What have you done to my horse?” Bethany asked Finn, grinning. She stroked Brooke’s nose and gazed upon her mare.
He bent—cautiously—to one knee. All his nerves stampeded back.
“Bethany,” he said. She turned to him. He took her hands and looked into her luminous gray eyes. “Will you? Will you marry me again? Give us a second chance?”
Her face crumpled and those eyes he’d always seen in his dreams filled with tears. She squeezed them shut, then looked at him. “Yes. Yes, McNabb, I will marry you. Again.”
He dropped his head, then gave her a handkerchief from his inside jacket pocket.
“So . . . anything else?” Bethany’s smile trembled.
“Oh, hell! Yes. Brooke. Her . . . bangs.”
“It’s called a forelock . . .” Bethany laughed and her fingers went to the braid. “What have you done . . . Oh, Finn.” Bethany unfurled the ribbon and clasped the ring.
Finn said, “I wanted Brooke to be a part of today. You love her and I wanted her to be the ring bearer.” He took the ring and slid it on her finger. “There. That’s better.”
Finn closed his own eyes tightly to stem his tears. She helped him up, and he tilted her chin up with a forefinger. “I love you,” he said, and slanted his lips over hers. He poured his soul into this perfect kiss, soft, deep, and tender. He was dizzy and could feel his heart hammering away. He pulled back and looked at her. “I love you so much. Thanks for giving me another chance.”
“I love you, too.” She pressed the hanky to her cheeks. “I love you, too.” She blew her nose. This was the woman he loved.
“Oh!” Finn said as he limped to the roll top and lifted the grain bucket with the champagne and the flutes. He returned to his fiancée and filled the flutes, handing her one.
“Thanks.” Then she nodded back toward the house. “However . . . we need to talk about my office. I want more room.”
“Done.”
“And I want a breakfast nook.”
“Fine.” He touched the rim of her glass with his.
“I might need a closet for horse blankets.”
“Bethany.” He took her chin in his hand and kissed her. Her lips tasted like sweet, boundless hope. “Your architect is hopelessly in love with you. You get whatever you want. Whatever you dream for your house, I can make happen. And whatever you and I dream for our life—we can make that happen, too.”
Epilogue
Beth didn’t leave Aspen Creek that weekend. She was too busy planning an early October wedding. She wanted her second marriage to Finn to begin as soon as possible. Amanda and Grady insisted on pulling out all the stops, and that the wedding would be held at the log manse, even though the Brunswicks would have to do some juggling because school had already started in LA. But they assured her it was no trouble. Having the wedding at Aspen Creek was ideal in more ways than Beth could count.
It was a Saturday morning wedding. As luck would have it, the aspens were turning late that fall, so the surrounding hillsides were still blanketed in gold, with dark-green pine adding contrast. Although it had snowed once in late September, it was sunny and warm now. Looking back, it was a much nicer day than their first marriage, which had taken place on a bleak afternoon in Cincinnati with the justice of the peace.
“For throwing together a wedding at the last minute, you did good, girl,” Harris said as he worked his magic on a lock of Beth’s hair with a curling iron. She was sitting on a chair in Amanda and Grady’s master suite, with Amanda, Solstice, Wave, Jacqueline, and Alonso.
“It was the only way I could meet the famous Alonso,” Beth said. Alonso flashed a shy grin. He wore a blinding white T-shirt over his dress shirt and tie so he wouldn’t get any makeup stains on it while assisting his boyfriend, Harris.
“If my mother hadn’t gotten sick when she did, I would have been more than happy to meet you sooner,” Alonso said in his soft Mexican accent. He was slightly taller than Harris, lean and dark-haired, with soft brown eyes.
“That’s not what he told me,” Harris said to Bethany. “I told him you were nice, but he wouldn’t listen. Scampered off to Mexico rather than meet you.”
Beth smiled.
“You look so pretty!” Wave said. “Like a princess! Harris, will you curl my hair?”
“Sure. But you have to eat ten brussels sprouts whenever I serve them next.”
“Come on!” Wave protested and Solstice snickered from the bed.
“Your choice.” Harris said.
“Okaaayy.” Wave broke.
“Will you curl mine?” Solstice asked.
“Yes.” He wound more of Beth’s long hair around the rod. “For your price . . . You do your homework without your mother or father having to nag you for one entire week when we’re back in LA.”
“A whole week?” Solstice whined.
“Yep. No nagging.”
“All right,” Solstice said, deflated. “I better look better than Taylor Swift.”
Harris scoffed. “Please. You’re worried?”
Amanda looked at her watch. “Girls, go get your dresses on.”
The Brunswick daughters left and Amanda stood in front of her friend just as Harris finished the last curl. She smiled and Beth saw a tear spill onto her cheek. “Oh, you look so beautiful. I’m so happy for you, Bethy.” Amanda hugged her.
“Hey, hey!” Harris said. “Watch the hair! I haven’t sprayed.”
Amanda released Beth and stood back.
“Will this stay in?” Beth asked.
“This is catwalk-proof.” He held up a large can of hairspray. “Tested on models who go neck with their boyfriends in alleys in the rain and wind between dresses. It’ll stay through a hurricane. Finn might cut himself, but you, my dear, will look stunning.”
And he sprayed the life out of her hair.
A few minutes later Beth and Amanda were alone.
“I guess I may as well put on the dress.”
Amanda got it and helped her friend into the strapless gown with a satin bodice and a sumptuously gathered long skirt.
Zipping her up, Amanda said, “Do you want me to get your mom?”
“No,” Beth said. “She’s a wreck already. She’s not good at weddings. And, to be honest . . . I’m . . . oh, blerg! I’m . . . I’m . . . nervous! Look at me!” She held out her shaking hands. “What’s wrong with me? I’m the calm one!”
Amanda smiled. “You look stunning.” She turned Beth by the shoulders to face the full-length mirror. “And remember, you’ve been married before, but you’ve never had a wedding.”
“Yeah, but I’ve already tested out the groom.” Beth dipped so Amanda could pin the short lace veil into her hair. “We had a practice marriage, made the necessary adjustments, now we’re ready to go for real. There’s no reason for me to be nervous.”
“You helped me on my wedding day, so I’ll help you on yours. What can I do? You want some tea? Champagne? Valium?”
“If this was a big show, what would we do? I’d put on my jacket, you’d tie my number on me, and I’d get on my horse.” Beth looked at her best friend and grinned slowly.
“You can’t,” Amanda said, but
she was smiling, too.
“I would feel so much better. And Finn would understand a hundred percent.”
“Yes he would. Which is why he’s perfect for you.”
Amanda called Ellis and asked her to saddle Brooke. Then she threw a long coat around Beth’s shoulders and they went onto the bedroom’s balcony, down the steps, and to the barn.
Amanda asked, “Do you want your boots? I can run and get them.”
Beth looked at her low white satin pumps, which already sported a few small tan stains. “Nah. These’ll work. And they’re not going to get dirtier from the stirrups.”
Ellis emerged from the crossties into the aisle. “I can’t believe you, Beth! And you look so beautiful. I want to ride my horse when I get married. I want to ride it down the aisle.”
“Believe me, I thought about it,” Beth said.
Ellis pulled out her phone and took pictures of the bride and her steed.
Amanda pulled a plastic mounting block to Brooke’s side and helped Beth get on without ripping her dress. They arranged the fabric so it wasn’t in her way. Then Beth gathered the reins and smiled at Amanda.
“Thanks,” Beth said, hoping her gratitude showed through the makeup. “And thank you, Brooke,” she said to her mare, patting her neck. “Be back soon.”
Beth squeezed Brooke’s sides. It was kind of kinky, riding a horse in silk stockings. She felt the leather flap of the saddle and her mare’s warm skin so much more than when she wore boots or chaps. She felt closer to Brooke, almost as if she was riding bareback. On this day, of all days, it was fitting.
They walked out of the barn and into the forest. It was so wonderful to be outside, on her horse, away from the house. Yes, she was ready to marry Finn. More than ready. She wasn’t second-guessing herself. This ride wasn’t about doubt or fear. It was about replenishing. A ride on Brooke would replace her jitters with joy. And Finn deserved a joyful bride.
She was alone with her horse, the wind, and the sun. When the trail evened out and the footing was good, she nudged Brooke into a trot, then let her canter. Brooke shook her head and surged forward. Beth rose out of the saddle, the wind rustling the layers of her gown. She relaxed into the three-beat rolling gait and Brooke’s rhythmic breathing. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations—her knees firm against the saddle, the breeze playing with her hair, the air rushing past her ears, the smell of Brooke and the alpine forest, and the heat of the sun on her bare arms, shoulders, and back.
Jumped Page 25
