She was vulnerable. He was pushing this, and pressure wouldn’t change the end result.
“But I know what you mean,” he said gruffly. “I want to short-cut this so badly, but you’re right. We should stop.”
Tears glistened in her eyes, and he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her forehead. How he longed to kiss those lips again, to forget all the logic and clear thinking, and just melt into her arms. But she was right. Trust was the problem here—she was afraid he’d turn out just like her dad, and he was afraid that she’d walk away when things got tough. There was no point in starting something that would end in him staring at an empty spot in the closet...again. There were only so many times a man could have his heart torn apart in one lifetime, and he was pretty sure he’d already reached his limit.
* * *
“SO I’M RIGHT.” Nora swallowed hard. This would be a first—a man admitting that he would likely be unfaithful. But what was she wanting him to do—try to change her mind? She wasn’t that easily swayed.
“Not about me cheating,” he said, “but I understand why you’re scared. I doubt I could convince you that I’m any different. That’s an argument I can’t win.”
Nora’s chest felt tight. “It shouldn’t be an argument, should it?”
“Probably not.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and the gesture brought back memories of the teenage Easton in a flood. He was no kid anymore, and he’d proven that over the last two weeks. This was a man in front of her—a man just like her father.
“Thing is, Nora, I can’t offer you the world. I don’t have it to give. You’re used to a better life than I am, and I’m pretty sure I can’t match what you’re used to. You’re afraid of me turning out like your dad, and you couldn’t face that kind of heartbreak. Well, I can’t face being walked out on by another woman I love.”
Another woman like his mom? For years Nora had watched that sadness swirl inside Easton, and only recently did she discover what had caused it. Now, she blamed his mother, resented her, even. Easton deserved better...and he thought she’d be no different? That hurt.
“Do you really worry about that?”
“Life gets hard,” he said quietly. “Really hard. I don’t think my mom imagined herself leaving, either, until she did it.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “And maybe I’m a little bit like her, too. She got out of this town—started fresh where no one knew her past. I get why she’d want that so badly. I’ve been thinking seriously about doing the same thing.”
Easton’s words hit her like a blow to the stomach. He would leave? Somehow that hadn’t occurred to her as even a possibility, even though she knew other ranchers had been trying to woo him. Easton had been a constant around here. The ranch ran like clockwork because of his professional skills. But he was more than an employee at the ranch—her dad had made sure of that. It was impossible to imagine this place without him. It would be empty here—lonely.
“But you live here.” It sounded so trite, but she couldn’t articulate the depth of her feelings about this. This was his home—over the years he’d become an integral part of her home, and she’d taken his presence here entirely for granted. Could he really just walk away?
She rose to her feet, walked toward the window then turned back. He stood up, too, and they stared at each other for a few beats. Easton nodded a few times as if coming to a conclusion.
“I wanted to sell you the house—it would give me money for a new start—but I’m used to roughing it. I’ll sign the house back over to you. I’ll give your mom my written notice tomorrow.”
Anger writhed against the wall of sadness, and she strode back over and punched him solidly in the chest. “You’re seriously just going to leave?” she demanded. “Just like that?”
“I can’t do this!” His voice raised and he stopped, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then he moderated his tone. “Nora, I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not sitting here, loving you, and not having anything more. We both know why it can’t work, and you’re right—playing house isn’t going to take the place of a real, honest commitment. I don’t want to just see what happens—I want a family that I can claim as mine. Call that old-fashioned if you want, but it’s what I want. And I know myself—I’m not going to get over you that easily. You don’t love a girl for over a decade and just bounce back.” He swallowed hard. “I never have.”
He was right—just like when they were teens, she wanted too much. She wanted him to be there, her support, her confidant. If the last couple of weeks had taught her anything, it was that skirting that line between friendship and more was harder than she’d imagined. He wasn’t the only one who sailed past “just friends” in a vulnerable moment. It wasn’t fair to expect him to keep trying to toe the line, and she knew that, but the thought of losing him completely...well, that tore at her heart. Their balance wasn’t a long-term solution.
He deserved a full life. He deserved a family of his own. Who was she to stand between him and his happiness?
“I’m going to miss you.” Her chin trembled, and she struggled to maintain control.
“Me, too. But at least I’ll have made it possible for you to keep the girls. I think it’s what your dad would have wanted.”
Outside, lightning flashed and there was a boom overhead. Rain spattered against the living room window. Easton put his hat on just as the kitchen door opened and people came pouring inside. He held her gaze for a moment, those dark eyes swimming with regret. Then he turned and walked away as the first wave of aunts and cousins flooded, laughing, into the living room.
He’d sign the house back over to her. All would be balanced again, and she’d have a home to raise the girls. She’d have the homestead in her name—her family’s history back where it belonged. It wouldn’t solve everything, but it was a good start. Yet despite all she would gain, she was losing the man she’d loved against all her better judgment. Pain was the cost of having loved, but the price of saying goodbye to Easton was almost more than her heart could bear.
Chapter Fourteen
Easton stood in his kitchen, the coffeepot percolating on the stove next to him. He felt gutted, scraped out. His throat felt as raw as if he’d cried, although he hadn’t shed any tears. He’d been trying to avoid this kind of pain by not starting up with her, but that hadn’t exactly worked, had it? He was alone—Nora had stayed at her mother’s house to weather out the storm, but he didn’t get that luxury. He still had a job to do, and it only got harder during inclement weather.
Even with Nora gone, there were reminders of her, from the baby chairs lined up across the kitchen table, to the soft feminine scent that lingered. What was that—soap, shampoo, just her? He couldn’t tell, but he liked it. He’d never had a woman living with him before. Not since his mother, at least, and he wished he didn’t know how soothing a voice filtering through the floorboards could be, or how nice a hallway could smell while the steam from a shower seeped through the crack under the door.
Easton had been serious when he said he’d sign the house over to her. He couldn’t keep this land and still like himself. He could let Nora live in this house and keep it in his name, but even that felt wrong. It should be hers—completely hers.
The bird-patterned curtains billowed in the wind that whistled through the open window, and he heaved it shut. From the very beginning he’d known that she belonged here, and that was why he’d never been able to take down those curtains. The house had a soul, and it was time for him to stop making another family his own, and start fresh.
The coffee was done percolating, and he flicked off the stove. He’d let his brew sit until he got back. He needed to double-check that all the horses were inside the barn, check the locks for the night and then he could call it a day. Tomorrow he’d give his notice. It was probably better to do this as quickly as possible.
Thunder cras
hed outside, and it shook the house hard enough for some silverware to rattle in the sink. He headed to the mudroom and grabbed his hat and an oil slicker.
He’d miss this house, this family and its connection to the only woman he’d ever loved. Until he left, however, he had a job to do, and they could count on him to be professional. It was all he had left.
* * *
NORA STOOD BY the window, watching the rain come down in sheets. The storm had raged for hours now without any respite—the savagery of the weather matching her mood. Wind whipped through the trees, tearing at the leaves and whistling ominously. A crack, a boom and then a flash of lightning lit up the sky. She glanced back to the couch where the babies lay in their usual row, sound asleep and oblivious to nature’s tantrum. Dina sat in a rocking chair next to the couch, and when the lightning flashed, she’d instinctively put a hand out toward them.
“Why don’t you look happier, Nora?” her mother asked quietly.
Nora came back to the couch and bent down to push a soother back into Bobbie’s mouth.
“I told you—he’s leaving.”
“But you said that he’s signing the house back over to you,” her mother said. “You can raise the girls. You wanted that...”
“I’m still wondering if that’s the right choice.” Nora ran a finger down Bobbie’s silken cheek. “I want it, but with all of the gossip here...” She pulled her hand back and straightened. “I came home for you, Mom. Not for Aunt Audrey, or Uncle Dale, or anyone else. I came for you.”
“I know. And that was the right thing to do—”
“Except in this—” Nora bit back the rest. It was wrong to push this—to plead for more. But when she came home, it was because it was the only way she could handle all of this. She needed her mother’s support, and if raising the girls meant she’d be isolated in that little house, trying to explain away people’s attitudes to little girls with tender hearts, then keeping them would still be a mistake.
“It’s all been a shock to me,” Dina said quietly. “The love of my life cheated on me, and I didn’t even get the chance to scream at him.” Tears misted her eyes, and she sighed. “That’s the thing that I’m angriest about—he didn’t give me the chance. I needed to deal with this whole mess with him, not after him.” She reached out and touched Rosie’s tiny, bare foot. “I just needed some time, sweetheart.”
“Has anything changed?” Nora asked cautiously.
“I suppose,” her mother said. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you giving me space in my own house, Nora. I did some crying and screaming into my pillow. I’ve had my time to argue with your dad in my head, play out on all the different scenarios, but at the end of it all, I come to one thing—I love him. Not past tense. I still do. I always will. I just don’t think I can be Grandma.”
Anything less than Grandma wasn’t good enough—it was too distant to be any use. They were back to where they’d been all along—
“I think I’d be Nana,” Dina said. “I’ve always thought I’d be a good Nana.”
Nora blinked, her heart speeding up. “Nana?”
“Does it suit me?” her mother asked uncertainly. “Or is that too old-sounding?”
Nora wrapped her arms around her mom and swallowed against the emotion in her throat.
“It’s perfect, Mom.”
Dina squeezed Nora’s hand and looked up into her daughter’s face. “If your dad had been brave enough to tell me the truth, I’d have been angry—that’s true. I’d have screamed and cried and stomped out for as long as I needed to. But after we worked through all of that, I’d have stood by him.” Her chin trembled with emotion. “I’d have been a stepmom to Mia. He didn’t give me the chance.”
And how different Nora’s childhood would have been! She’d have had a sister—but whether or not they’d have been able to like each other at that stage was up for debate. She’d have known the worst, and that would have been easier in some ways. But it wouldn’t change the fact that she’d never quite trust that a man could stay faithful.
“I don’t think I’d be that noble myself,” Nora said. “When Dad cheated on you, he broke more than your trust, he broke mine. I thought he was the world, Mom. I really did. I thought if I could find a man like my dad, I’d be happy ever after. But that’s no guarantee, is it? Because even Dad couldn’t stay faithful.”
“And you’re afraid that Easton wouldn’t be faithful, either,” her mother concluded.
Nora was silent, and her mother shot her a rueful smile.
“I still know you better than you think. You love him.”
Nora tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “It’s so stupid...”
“No, it isn’t,” her mother replied. “He’s loved you for years. In the last few years your dad hoped that you’d—”
“My dad doesn’t get a vote!” Nora snapped.
Her mother rose to her feet and went to the sideboard. She picked up the small framed photo that Nora had brought from the old farmhouse. She looked at the photo for a few moments then handed it over to Nora.
“Did you ever hear the story about that tractor?” Dina asked.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“This picture reminded me of it because it probably happened at about this point in their marriage, before the kids. This picture is in the summer, but the winters could be really harsh. One winter, your great-grandfather had gone out to check on the cows. Their breath could freeze over their noses, even in the barn. So he went out in a blizzard to do his check. Anyway, he didn’t come back, and your great-grandmother waited and waited. She got worried—her husband had his routines and she knew something had gone wrong. So she bundled up and went after him. She found him in the barn, but he was knocked out cold underneath the tractor. No one knows what happened exactly, but he must have slipped on some ice, the tractor had rolled and he was pinned. You see the size of her in that photo—”
Nora looked down at the slim, light-haired woman, leaning up against the wheel of that tractor.
“The story goes,” her mother went on, “that she picked up that tractor herself, hoisted it off her husband and carried him from the barn back to the house. She saved his life that day.”
“Is it true?” Nora asked. She hardly looked big enough for those kinds of heroics.
Her mother shrugged. “It’s family lore. You can decide if you believe it. But the point I’m trying to make is that when you choose a man, you’re not trusting in his strength alone. You bring strength to the table, too. Your great-grandfather couldn’t have run that dairy without her, and he’d surely have died that night if she hadn’t gone after him. So yes, men can make mistakes. They can let you down. They can break your heart. Heck, they can even die on you. But you aren’t passive in all of this, and you aren’t putting your faith in him alone.” Her mother fiddled with the wedding ring on her finger. “You’re strong, Nora. And you’re smart. You’re a force to be reckoned with. You aren’t trusting in a fallible man, you’re trusting in what the two of you are together. Don’t underestimate what you bring to the relationship.”
Nora turned back to the window, her heart hammering in her chest. She had no control over the future, and she had no guarantee against heartbreak. But she knew what she felt for Easton, and she knew what he felt for her. She’d felt the strength of his feelings when he held her in his arms, and if she was only trusting emotion alone...
Easton had told her that he wasn’t sure she could handle a life with him—the ups and downs, the uncertainties. But she knew in the depth of her heart that she could. She could weather any storm with Easton, if she knew that they were weathering it together. She could be his strength, just as much as he could be hers.
But he was leaving—and that realization shook her to the core.
“Mom, I need to talk to him,” Nora said, t
urning to face her mother. She looked toward the babies then back out at the storm.
“I’ll stay with the girls,” her mother said. “Go.”
Nora went through the kitchen to the mudroom, grabbed a hat from a peg and snatched up her mother’s oil slicker. She needed to talk to him...there was more to say. He might still leave, but at least she’d have said it all before he did.
Chapter Fifteen
Nora slammed the door to the old homestead behind her and shook off her rain slicker. She’d barely been able to make out the road through the deluge on her windshield, and she’d nearly gone off the road a few times, but she’d made it all right. There were lights on in the kitchen.
“Easton?” she called.
Silence. She glanced around the kitchen and saw nothing amiss. She went over to the stove and lifted the lid of the coffeepot—it was completely full, but only barely warm. She knew his routine. He percolated his coffee then left it to cool a little while he did his last rounds, checking locks and whatnot. If the coffee was nearly cold, then he’d been gone a long time.
Thunder rumbled again, a pause then a mighty crack as the room lit up in a momentary blinding display. She looked out the window as the realization dawned on her. Easton was out there somewhere, and if there wasn’t a problem, he’d have been back long ago. The other ranch hands were supposed to have done the last of the work, and he was only doing the last check. Even in a winter storm, it shouldn’t take this long.
Nora pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed his number. It rang, but there was no reply. Obviously not—he’d be crazy to pick up a call in that downpour, if he even heard it. Should she stay a little longer and wait? Accidents happened in storms, and a mental image of that tractor in the black-and-white photo rose in her mind. It was silly, maybe, but she’d feel better if she found him.
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