She squeezed her eyes closed and stepped back, trying to weed between her past, the present, her thoughts, and her feelings. They all crashed together into a myriad of blinding confusion. “I’m tired of playing pretend, and I’m really sick of being an idiot.” Tears closed off her throat, and she took another step back, toward the door. “You’re right, Wes. This won’t work. I don’t share well when it comes to the man in my life.” She braced her hand against the doorframe, vision burning. “I’ve gotta go.”
Wes called after her, but she ran—from Wes, from her own stupidity, from the confusion of the scene as it replayed in her mind—but she couldn’t outrun one thing:
Her lacerated heart.
***
Wes tried to run after Eisley, but Vivian clutched his arm and conveniently dropped her hold on her towel at the same time. Fury surged through him and exploded in his head like a battle horn. He jerked away, leaving her to regain her balance on her own, and then raced down the stairs.
He ran up to Eisley’s jeep as she started the engine. “Eisley, please listen to me. You must believe—”
“Don’t.” She raised her palm to him, tears floating in her emerald gaze. “Just let me go.”
“Eisley.”
The expression on her face—the hurt—ripped through him with the precision of a bullet. She shook her head and put the jeep in reverse, peeling down the drive.
Wes lowered his face into his hands. No, no, no. He’d wanted her protected from his life, but not like this.
His gaze moved back to the apartment window and a fresh scorch of anger set his feet in motion. He wouldn’t allow Vivian Barry to stay in Pleasant Gap, near the Jenkins family, any longer. He marched back up the stairs, walked Vivian to the bathroom, grabbed the pile of clothes from the counter and shoved them into her hands. “Get dressed and get out. You’ve done your worst today.”
She took the clothes with a shameless grin, proving his point. His past came in the form of Vivian Barry and broke Eisley’s heart.
He turned away and began tossing his belongings into his bag without thought. “Gather your things, Vivian. I’m going to ensure you leave the Jenkins family and Pleasant Gap before you cause any more damage.”
“Don’t play the wounded party here, darling. The game of fame and fortune comes with its rules and risks.” She tsked and then glared at him. “I risked everything to win.” Her gaze darkened. “And in this game, winner takes all.”
“No, Vivian. You’ve lost everything.” He ran his gaze down her crumpled clothes, certain to allow his disgust to show on his face. “All of this because of jealousy for your sister? Why? Why ruin me and yourself because of it?”
“You haven’t the foggiest what it was like. Jane was the favorite, and I was never good enough. She had everything: beauty, talent, you.” She sneered. “If father hadn’t forced her to have the abortion, she would have given birth to the perfect child too, no doubt.”
Wes choked at the declaration. “Your father forced her to have—”
Vivian released a long line of expletives and averted her gaze. “Don’t worry your tender heart about it.” She recovered her look of feline satisfaction. “The only reason Jane mourned for the child was because she couldn’t use it as leverage to keep you anymore.”
He’d carried all the blame for so long, and yes, he still hurt her, but her deep depression? Could it have been from this? He couldn’t find words to respond.
“The baby would have ruined her career. Father wouldn’t abide it.” She looked back at him, the guilt lacing her expression proving she didn’t believe her own words. “It’s old history.”
That sentence rekindled his fight. “So, you’ve given up your self-respect, and once I speak to my solicitor, you’ll likely lose your reputation, too, over some vendetta against your sister? Did you think that would free you from your jealousy?”
She looked away, words grinding an octave lower. “I can’t be free. Not after all I’ve done, the price I paid”—she focused back on him, a fresh intensity tensing her expression—“for you. I deserve you. Don’t you understand? I gave my soul for you.”
Tears—true ones—mingled within cobalt blue. Something dark waited behind her words.
“What do you mean? Vivian—”
“It was a game. Only a game to prove to her I could best her by sleeping with you. I never meant—”
“Jane knew about us?” Wes’s jaw slacked and his words formed in slow motion. “Did you speak to her the night she died?”
Vivian pinched her eyes close and turned her face away, lips clamped together.
“You did.” His gut roiled. “What did you tell her? Tell me, or so help me, Vivian....”
“I have nothing else to say to you.”
Wes reached for his mobile. “Then I’ll learn it from your father.”
Vivian’s hands were on his arm in a moment. “No, no, don’t bring Father into this.” Her eyes rounded, pleading. “He…he doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t know what?”
Her expression turned vicious again. “You were so trolleyed that night you could have slept through anything. I knew it was the only way I could have you.” Her words coursed through clench teeth. “I could finally claim a victory over my sister, though. She’d betrayed you, and you came to me.”
“So, you phoned her? And she believed you?”
All emotion fell from her expression. “I sent her a photo from my mobile, of you in my bed.”
Wes opened his mouth, but no words, no thoughts could battle the atrocity of her confession. He closed his eyes, blotting out her face, her bitterness. How could he have been so blind?
Her rasped words scratched at his fury. “If I must suffer with the sins of my past”—she pointed her shaky finger at him, her eyes taking on a misty hue—“if I am not free of her, then I won’t let you be either.”
The desperation, the fear in her voice pushed him back a step. A haunted look took over her expression, a vulnerability he’d never seen before, and somehow, an unexplainable compassion curbed his anger with a touch of grace. “I know the guilt you suffer, but it doesn’t have to master you.” He gentled his voice but didn’t move closer. “There is a way to find peace for your heart.”
Her eyes grew wide, desperate for an answer.
“Forgiveness. The end to the consuming anger and wrenching guilt is forgiveness.”
She jerked back as if he’d slapped her. “I will never forgive her for lording her perfect life over me, and I will never forgive you for rejecting me.” The haughty look returned, coupled with a wicked smile. “No, darling, forgiveness has never been my forte, but I excel in retribution. When you rejected me, you forced me to strike back and teach you a lesson with the pain you so carelessly inflicted.” Her smile spread, eyes alight with a sinister glow. “To watch your world, your dreams, ripped from your hands by the plans of another.”
She was beyond his reach. Lost and hard. “I’m sorry for you, Vivian. Bitterness is stealing your life. Forgiveness—God’s forgiveness—is the only way you will find freedom.”
Her lips tilted into that same, heartless sneer. “Save your sermon for yourself. You’ll need it when your little American rejects you. And she will, Wesley dear. No woman wants a betrayer.” Her brow rose like a dagger. “Especially a woman who’s known this wound before. She’ll never be back.”
And in Vivian’s world, it was probably true, but Vivian couldn’t understand the beautifully generous heart of Eisley Barrett. She couldn’t comprehend the forgiving grace of God. His heart accepted the chill of his decision. Nor would she understand how he would give Eisley up because he loved her. “Get in the truck, Vivian. You’re leaving.”
They drove in silence. Each time Vivian attempted to begin a conversation, Wes closed it. A second chance wasn’t worth the risk of Eisley’s heart—or her family—and his past kept haunting him. How could she want to risk everything for this?
No. By the time they’d made it
into town, he knew the right choice. The selfless one he should have chosen on the night of the Christmas gala: Protect Eisley by keeping away from her.
Wes phoned Lizzie to make her aware of his plans to leave and ask if she’d accompany him, but she wanted to stay with Joe. A mist filled his vision. At least one of them could hold on to their relationship. Wes’s heart pulled against leaving, but he refused to weaken. This was the right choice for Eisley and her family. No doubt, time would lessen her affections and help her move on with her life.
But he’d never recover. The experiences with her and the children would remain in his heart forever.
He wrote a note to Nate and Kay with apologies for his hasty departure, leaving it in their front door, and then he hired a taxi for Vivian’s direct trip to the airport by way of coach.
With one last look down the long stretch of Main Street, gaze fastening on the pink flag from Julia’s bakery, Wes slipped into the truck and put it into gear. Goodbye, Eisley.
Twenty-Nine
Eisley stumbled into her house, blinking through her tears and grateful for time alone before her dad brought the kids home. How could she have been so wrong again? Hadn’t the past three years taught her anything about rotten jerks? Everything felt so…so wrong.
But Wes wasn’t a jerk. Everything he said and did proved him true and…good. Marshall had given off signals to his duplicity long before she’d caught him in the act, but not Wes. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.
He couldn’t have been acting all this time, could he? With her family? With her children? She swallowed down a sob. With her?
She slumped down in her office chair and buried her face into her hands, reliving the scene with Vivian. On the heels of the great article debacle, when her emotions were still reeling from the rift in her family’s privacy, Vivian’s presence hit a weak spot, but as she replayed the scenes, holes emerged.
Why didn’t Wes try to get her to leave the apartment if he knew Vivian was there? With her mom’s hawk-like eyes, not to mention Aunt Tilley’s next door, wouldn’t they have noticed a stranger in the guesthouse if Vivian had been there for any length of time? Wes’s look of pure horror and pain appeared sincere, and he’d run after her, begging her to listen to him; not to leave.
Marshall didn’t even try.
Besides, what did he get out of all of this anyway? Pleasant Gap and the Jenkins family certainly weren’t a one-way trip to fame and fortune.
She massaged her aching forehead. Her heart and her thoughts wrestled for the right answer. Something wasn’t right.
A stack of research stared back at her from a pile on her desk. One of the shortest letters from Geoffrey MacLeroy sat on the top, begging her to give in to distraction. She blinked back a new rush of tears and focused on the timeworn page.
Beloved Julia,
Do not fall prey to the lies surrounding my delay. And do not forsake hope. Hope cannot cease because God does not cease. I come for thee on the morrow. If thine eyes fail thee, trust in thine heart, for it speaks the truthe of mine affections and constancy. Thou knowest me as none other. I will come for thee. Hold to hope and look for me.
My heart is in thy hands always,
Geoffrey
Eisley placed the letter down. So short, yet filled with such assurance. Doubt waited in the far corners of her mind, but hope? Even if it led through pain, it also paved the path to love. She pressed her palm to her chest. The love she clung to for Wes Harrison.
Help me, Lord.
She sucked in a noisy breath and glanced over the letter again. Her love for him urged her to weed through the possible hurt and focus on what she knew. He loved her. He was not the man he used to be. He left England to visit her middle class, anonymous, and somewhat strange family, and to spend time with her because he loved her.
A liar and cheat wouldn’t do something that crazy.
He’d trusted her, even when her number came up as the one that took the photos of his father. That proof seemed pretty incriminating, but he’d trusted her. She stood from her desk. She needed to talk to him…because she trusted him, too.
Noise erupted from the kitchen as the back door opened and slammed against the wall, followed by a rush of voices. Eisley found her dad holding Emily in the kitchen, surrounded by all three of her sisters, her two boys, and her mom pulling Greg by the arm through the back door.
“What is going on?”
“Triage.” Rachel, the nurse, tossed the word at her. “You’re in desperate need of intervention.”
“Wes went to the airport.”
Her dad’s announcement had her gripping the counter for support. “What?”
“He left a note at the house. Tilley said she saw him pull out of the driveway about an hour ago. I went to grab your mama so she could talk some sense into you.”
“But I had to come too, because you’re making a horrible mistake, Eisley,” Julia said, tugging Emily out of Dad’s arms.
“I just came along as a witness,” Sophie added. “Family drama is better than prime time TV any day.”
Eisley was still trying to follow along. Her gaze shifted to Greg.
“I just happened to be checking on Fritter’s puppies and they pulled me inside.” Greg’s hands came up helplessly. “This is the reason I like animals over people, by the way.”
“Why did you ask him to leave?” Julia’s eyes rounded with concern. “He’s perfect for you.”
“I didn’t—”
“What did you do to that poor boy then?” Her dad shoved a letter into her hands.
“Me?” Eisley scanned over the words, her heart pinching at his evident concern for her. “I was actually on my way—”
“Your Aunt Tilley saw Marshall drop some fancy woman off at the house a couple of hours ago, and she got worried ‘cause nobody was at home.” Her dad continued.
“Marshall?”
“If anybody’s going to find a pretty woman in town, it’s going to be Marshall,” Rachel added with an eye roll. “It sounds like that Vivian woman you’ve talked about stumbled upon the perfect idiot to help her get to Wes.”
Mom intervened. “His note said something about never wanting his past to hurt you or our family.”
“He said it’d be easier for you if he left you alone.” Dad’s finger nudged into her shoulder. “You need to do something to fix it. Any boy who would leave the woman he loves to protect her, now that’s a real somebody.”
“You have to go get your man,” Rachel announced, both hands planted on her hips with the same conviction as her voice.
“To know what is right and to not do it is the worst cowardice.” Sophie grinned. “Confucius.”
“Who’s Confusion?” Nathan asked from the center of the circle of adults, his poor little head swiveling from one excited person to the other.
Eisley wanted to raise her hand. Confusion. Right here.
No. She shook her head. She wasn’t confused. She knew exactly what she wanted…and needed to do.
Tears swam into Eisley’s eyes before she could stop them. Faith, hope, and a whole lot of true love shocked her into motion. She grabbed her purse. “I was on my way before you guys barged in here. It took me a little while to catch up with the truth.” She grabbed her car keys. “I kind of got distracted by the naked woman in his apartment.” The statement sounded horrible.
Greg’s head perked up. “There was a naked woman in the apartment?”
Mama slapped him on the shoulder.
“I know I should have put locks back on those doors,” Dad murmured.
“He’s in love with you, Eisley.” Julia raised a honey-colored brow. “You have to go after him.”
“A true romantic encounter, though prevalent in fiction, is not as common in the real world, and therefore must be valued for the uniqueness of its opportunity,” Sophie added.
All heads turned to the youngest Jenkins. She dazzled them with her infectious smile and shrugged. “That’s what Chris Lucas wri
tes in The Idiot’s Guide to Finding Your Prince Charming.”
Rachel squeezed her eyes closed. “You actually read something with that title?”
Eisley pushed through her family toward the front door, taking out her phone to dial Wes’ number. If they kept talking she’d never get to Wes. “I need to go—”
The kitchen door slammed open and Lizzie walked in, her face flushed from exertion. “What are you still doing here?”
Eisley sighed. “I was going to call Wes and tell him not to leave and then—”
“No.” She waved Eisley toward the door. “You can leave a voicemail on the way to the airport. Don’t waste time, luv. I’ve learned a great deal about not taking chances when one should, about the brevity of life and love.” She gave each face in the room a severe look. “Who is the most efficient driver in this house?”
Everyone’s attention fastened on Greg.
“Whoa, wait a minute.” Greg backed away, his movements slow, like he was retreating from a wild herd. “I’m just here to check on the puppies, remember?”
“Can I go, Mama?” Pete asked. “I want to see the airplanes.”
“We can help you catch Wes, Mom. We’re good searchers.” Nathan added.
“Spit, spot, people.” Lizzie rushed them forward. “You haven’t all day.”
Eisley shoved her keys into Greg’s hand. “Come on, Greg. I have a Prince Charming to catch.”
***
An hour and a half later, they bounded through the doors of Charlotte-Douglas International Airport, Greg’s frustrated voice carrying into the cavernous entrance. “If I hear any more of that singing vegetable music, I think I’m going to shoot the CD player. How can you listen to that stuff all the time?”
Eisley barely heard him, too busy searching the crowded room for a miracle. Any miracle would do, but she preferred one with a British accent and some heart-stopping dimples. “I’m going to the information desk.”
Just the Way You Are (A Pleasant Gap Romance Book 1) Page 32
