“That is the expectation. Yes.”
“So...it’s all still a go. All of it. You just don’t want to marry me.”
She took a moment to answer and then said, “Correct.”
He had the most ridiculous urge to haul her across the desk and hug her as tightly, and for as long, as he possibly could.
Instead, he stood and reached across the desk to shake her hand.
And then turned and walked out of her office.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
NATASHA DIDN’T EAT much on Thursday. And didn’t sleep well, either. She packed for the weekend at the ranch, because she’d already committed to going and had arranged for a couple of her camera people to be there getting shots of her and Spencer in and around her new office and studio.
As she’d done for the past couple of weekends, she put Lily in her carrier and took the kitten with her. Lily seemed happier at the cabin than she was in the condo.
Natasha had found her solution. She wasn’t marrying Spencer. She was saving him from Claire. Her show was protected. His ranch problems would fade away as though they’d never been.
And she would somehow get over loving him.
Her mother had found happiness without her father.
She knew it could be done.
Spencer hadn’t batted an eye when she’d told him she didn’t want to marry him. He’d seemed no more upset about her refusal than he’d been about Jolene’s.
Because he wasn’t going to be emotionally invested in any woman. Ever. She was becoming convinced that, just like Sadie, he wasn’t capable of that kind of emotional give-and-take.
She understood.
All that remained was for her to find her own way to happiness. And then to act.
* * *
THE ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCEMENT went off without a hitch. Spencer played his part. Rather enjoyed doing so. Apparently there was more of an actor in him than he’d supposed. The kids had been told—though he’d also told them that engagements were just trying-on periods. That sometimes clothes didn’t fit and you ended up not keeping them.
He hated that he’d felt the need to liken Natasha to garments, but more, he hated the idea of misleading his kids into believing that she would someday be their mother.
“Step,” Tabitha had corrected him when he warned them that it might not happen.
“What?” He and the kids were having ice cream outside, wearing heavy winter sweaters. They’d wanted to make ice cream. He’d read that accompanying serious news with something positive made it easier for children to accept.
“Natasha told us all about steps,” Tabitha said. “It’s someone that only becomes a mom when she marries a dad.” Her cone, though soggy, was pristine. Unlike Justin’s cone, which was almost saturated with dripping ice cream.
Spencer missed Natasha. As soon as they’d done the Thanksgiving show, and they’d hosted a submissive and respectful Claire Williamson at the condo for a couple of hours together as a family, Natasha had left for location scouting. She’d been gone a week.
And he missed her.
So much that he told her so when she called that night. True to her word, during their original negotiations, she made sure that he always knew where she was. And they talked every day.
“What do you mean, you miss me?” She sounded almost angry. And he figured he’d crossed into territory too personal to fit their business model.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Still feeling my way here.”
“What does that mean?” She didn’t sound angry anymore. Or even defensive. Just...tired.
In his downstairs office, he stared at the chair his father used to sit in when he met with Gerald in his office. “This whole...figuring out who we are, what we are and what we’re not. As you said in the beginning, it’s unconventional. I guess we need a new provision.”
Daisy Wolf was house-trained now and sleeping upstairs in the bathroom between the twins’ rooms, keeping an eye on both of them. He missed having her downstairs with him in the evenings.
“And that is?” Natasha asked.
The new provision?
“That if ever one of us does something that makes the other uncomfortable, or if one of us is uncomfortable for any reason, we need to talk about it.”
She didn’t respond right away. Now that he was thinking about what he’d just put forward, he figured it was pretty much mandatory if they hoped to succeed in pulling off this venture.
They had a right to have a business engagement. But they had to do it right. In a way that minimized the possibility of anyone getting hurt.
“Agreed.”
He sensed there was more that needed to be said. Or maybe he just wanted more. Either way...
“So...let’s talk,” he said.
“Is something making you uncomfortable?”
Now that she mentioned it...
“You’ve talked about your mother. Originally she was going to be joining us in January for the wedding. What does she know about our arrangement?”
“Pretty much everything. She’d like to join us for Christmas, if that’s okay with you.”
He hadn’t been certain they’d still be spending it together. Some of the holiday, yes, but not necessarily Christmas Day itself.
Although it would appear odd if anyone were to see her in Palm Desert without him and the kids...
“It’s fine with me. I look forward to meeting her. What’s your preference in terms of location?”
“Excuse me?”
“Would you rather have Christmas Day at the condo or on the ranch?” He had to ask. They were partners. And he owed her.
“I assumed it would be at the ranch. Kids should celebrate Christmas morning at home...”
He hadn’t had a lot of memorable Christmas mornings. But he’d made certain that Justin and Tabitha did. Every year.
“Okay, good,” he said. Another hurdle settled. “So...what about you?”
“Nothing’s making me uncomfortable.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You said you want this to work.” He knew pushing her was dangerous.
“I do.”
“You’ve been...different. Ever since you met with Jenny Teague the day I came clean about my past. You were fine when you left the ranch. Normal, for you, for us, after we met with Sharon. But then, after Jenny, you didn’t call. I had to come to you even to find out what was going on, and something has been different with you ever since.”
There. Let her deal with it. He was tired of trying to figure it out. Tired of worrying that everything was about to blow up on him again.
He was done hiding.
And waiting. Done living on a prayer that everything would work out.
“You sure you want the truth?”
“Of course.”
“Be careful what you ask for.”
Now he had to have it. “I want the truth.”
“While I was sitting in Jenny’s office, hearing myself insist on working out a plan that included you, rather than dumping all association with you as she suggested, I realized that I’m in love with you.”
He didn’t know gulping was more than an expression until he did it. Reaching for a canister that had been on the shelf since before Sadie died, and contained whiskey that was as aged, he removed the lid and took a sip.
Almost convinced himself that she hadn’t just said what he thought she’d said.
“I know your feelings on the matter,” she continued. And while he welcomed the return of his old Natasha, more than she’d probably ever know, he wanted her just to stop talking.
“I accept your choice not to love again. And, frankly, have accepted the fact that you probably ar
e incapable of doing so.”
Was she challenging him? It wasn’t like her. So he figured she was giving him the truth he’d asked for.
“Am I wrong about that?” she asked.
And now he had to give it back to her.
His first instinct was to lie. His second and third instincts that followed were exactly the same. But he’d made a promise to himself, a silent vow to his father, who’d turned his life around, to Gerald, who’d given him the chance, and to his own children. He would not lie. Or hide.
“No, you aren’t wrong.”
She wished him good-night. And hung up.
* * *
NATASHA CALLED SPENCER the next night as planned. And every day that followed, too. She was a businesswoman.
And Family Secrets was vital to her.
He was part of her business world. A boon to Family Secrets—assuming nothing about his father’s theft, and his own subsequent subterfuge, didn’t get out.
With Claire contained, if she remained contained, there was not a lot of risk of the old agreement coming forth. It hadn’t in all the years since Sadie passed away. There was no reason for it to do so.
As long as Natasha stayed engaged to him. And if she didn’t—the ranch sale was going through. Sharon had told her Spencer’s lawyer had just approved the final papers for the trust.
If the truth ever came out in the future, after they broke off their engagement, the public would most likely sympathize with her for getting away from him in time. It would appear that she hadn’t known about his past until it came out.
Frankly, she was tired of thinking about the whole thing. About running her life based on Jenny Teague and Sharon, on Angela and PR and legal “teams.”
She wanted Family Secrets to succeed, as badly as always. She knew full well she wouldn’t be happy without the show. But she had her own family secret now. She was in love. She wanted to marry the man she loved. To raise his children. To have more with him. She wanted...normal.
She’d agreed to settle for so much less.
And for the first time in her life, she was afraid of failing.
She needed her mother. And so, that first week in December, she flew to New York and called it a Christmas shopping trip.
She checked possible sites for location shooting. Liked one. And followed up with a day with lawyers, working up a proposal to take back with her.
Mostly, she ran home to lick her wounds.
They didn’t heal.
* * *
THE PAPERWORK ARRIVED for the sale of the ranch—making, at worst, Justin and Tabitha heirs of Longfellow Ranch. He signed immediately.
With the torn envelope still in hand, he pulled out his phone and called her.
She didn’t pick up.
He took the kids to town for hamburgers and malts that night to celebrate—though they had no idea about what. And as he drove home, he did so with a new feeling. That he was driving to his home that night.
It had taken until he was nearly thirty-one years on earth, but he’d finally become legitimate.
* * *
SHE COULD HAVE HAD it all. The marriage. The kids. A shared life with the man she loved. Spencer had been willing to marry her all along. She was the one holding back.
On the long flight back to California, Natasha stared out the window at cotton candy clouds and pristine blue sky, at life on the outside.
And knew, as tempted as she was to give in and take the easy way out, she couldn’t settle. She could not marry without love.
She’d reached the decision weeks ago. Hadn’t swayed from it since. But this time, flying back into her life, the choice was final. Irrevocable.
She was never going to marry Spencer Longfellow.
She’d been holding on without realizing it. As though something would change. She would. Or he would.
But he wasn’t. She wasn’t. They weren’t.
There were some things you just could not control. Or make happen. No matter how fiercely you believed in them. Wanted them. Would work for them. She wasn’t all-powerful.
Letting go was hard. Even when you were letting go of something that hadn’t even happened.
Letting go also brought a measure of peace.
And truth.
She would find a measure of happiness. She would make her life count. She would laugh.
Just as Susan did.
She was going to become her mother.
There were worse things.
But, like her mother must have done all those years ago, she couldn’t help but acknowledge one thing.
Something inside of her had just died.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SHOPPING FOR CHRISTMAS was completely different that year. Spencer went out with abandon. He’d already purchased the horse for Tabitha. At Natasha’s suggestion, he’d gone back and bought one for Justin, too. As she pointed out, as much as they grumbled, the kids did everything together. They were best friends.
And he would make every effort to keep them close. He and Natasha both knew what it was like to grow up alone. What Tabitha and Justin had was...priceless.
Natasha again. Everywhere he went, everywhere he looked—most particularly in his own thoughts—Natasha was there.
Not because she pushed herself in. Or was even around nearly as much as he’d once thought she would be—like Christmas shopping with him, for instance. Instead of going together to shop for the kids, they were each doing their own shopping and wrapping.
He didn’t know why he couldn’t take a step without seeming to take her with him. But he’d slowly grown accustomed to having her there.
And when he started to get uncomfortable with his fascination for his business partner, he’d try to reason away his obsession. The woman was gorgeous. What guy wouldn’t think about her?
They were engaged to be married—and had to keep up appearances of such in more than just a business sense. It was natural he’d have her on his mind.
She had his back. Not since he was six years old had he felt that assurance. Or known what that was like.
Not even with Bryant. Because he hadn’t let himself get that close.
Bryant didn’t know Spencer wasn’t a Longfellow. By the time they met, he had been one. Bryant had thought, as most everyone did, that Spencer was Gerald’s son. That was how Sadie had passed him off.
He’d been born on the farm. Other than the doctor who’d delivered him, who had long since passed away, who was there to have known outside their secluded little world that he wasn’t Sadie’s son?
But Natasha knew. Everything. And she had his back.
She’d risked Family Secrets for him.
She’d given him the one thing he’d been unable to give himself—himself. She’d handed life to him.
Her friendship, her caring, had given birth to a new man. One he’d been born to be.
When he realized that he’d been standing in the same aisle of a toy store for nearly twenty minutes, and that he couldn’t remember one thing he still needed, he left the store.
He was in Palm Desert. Natasha was at the ranch with the kids. Making Christmas cookies, of all things.
He didn’t think he’d ever had Christmas cookies baking in his home before.
He wanted to rush back.
To join in.
But they had another new agreement. He had to keep his distance from her whenever he could. This was her special time with the kids.
He had to do more than just stay away. He had to find a way to...
Natasha had given and given. She’d had his back over and over. And what had he done for her? Other than help show ratings that hadn’t been hurting to begin with?
In the end, he went home anyway. He couldn
’t not. His family was calling to him in a way it never had before.
The call scared him. Life and death scared him. So much he wasn’t sure he’d be able to answer it.
When he got to Longfellow Ranch, he didn’t go to the main house. Natasha was putting the kids to bed that night.
He parked the truck at the cow barn. And then he took off. Starting at a run. Slowing at some point to a walk. When it started to get dark, he sat for a while. Facing life. And death. Meeting them head-on.
All that he’d lost. All he could lose.
He shook like a baby. Maybe from the cold. Maybe not.
Eventually he stood and started walking again.
He’d made no conscious decisions. Other than, maybe, to acknowledge that his choices had been taken away from him.
Maybe to let them go.
* * *
NATASHA WAS TIRED. Ready to rest now that the kids were sleeping soundly.
She was sad that Spencer hadn’t come in the house in time to have cookies and milk with Tabitha and Justin before they’d gone to bed.
She’d heard his truck come up the drive hours ago, but he hadn’t stopped at the house.
Whether he was out with the cows or just...out...she didn’t know.
And couldn’t care.
Her heart was open to the kids. Wide open. It was open to her mother. To Angela. To her Family Secrets family.
Not to Spencer.
That was how she survived. She closed the doors that led nowhere.
Long talks with Susan in New York had helped her see that.
She could watch television. Didn’t want to have to avoid Christmas specials that inevitably led to warm, fuzzy family moments.
She’d have her own moments. At the Family Secrets Christmas party. With her mother and the kids on Christmas morning.
Spencer would be there, too. Just not in her warm, fuzzy moments. He’d be the friend who happened to stop by before she got there and stayed until after she left. Or something like that.
When the house started to close in on her, she left Daisy Wolf inside with the kids, pulled on her sweater coat and moved outside to the deck. It was still in the low sixties. This part of the California desert rarely got down to freezing, even in January. She felt the chill, though.
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