"What is that?" she asks. I don’t answer her because she leans over and takes the white envelope from my hand. Our fingers graze each other, and my whole body wakes up. Every night, we sit outside and watch the sun go down. Neither of us says anything, but I wouldn’t trade that time with her for all the money in the world. Her sitting there with me. Her eyes going so green, I get lost in them.
I watch her face as she opens the envelope and looks inside. "What is this?" she whispers, her hand shaking.
"That is your paycheck,” I say. She looks up at me, and I can see she is going to argue with me.
"I can’t take this from you," she says and holds the envelope back out for me.
"I’m not giving you that money," I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest. “You worked for that,” I say. “All this week, you worked over forty hours."
"I did not,” she says, shaking her head.
"You get here at five thirty, and you don’t leave until four,” I say.
"But …" she says.
"You come in here and ride Hope,” I say. “Then you clean and muck the stalls. You feed the horses, and for the past two days, you’ve been bringing each of them outside for exercise."
"But …” she says again, and this time, I see a tear form in her eye. I walk to stand in front of her.
"But nothing, Willow,” I say softly. My hand comes up to stop the tear from rolling down her face. “You earned that fair and square."
“I don’t know what to say,” she says, and for the first time, she doesn’t walk away from my touch. My heart speeds up, and I’m surprised she can’t see it trying to get out of my chest. I feel like I just won the fucking lottery.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I say, moving my thumb softly over her cheekbone.
"I do have to say something,” she says. She looks at the envelope again, and my hand falls down to my side. “This is …" She shakes her head. “You have no idea what it means to me." I don’t say anything because the only thing I want to say to her will probably push her away. "This is the first time I’ve ever gotten a check,” she says, still looking down at the envelope. “The first time I’ve ever gotten paid for a job." Her voice trembles. “It’s the first time I have money, and I don’t have to hand it over. I don’t have to pay a drug dealer. I don’t have to pay rent or a hotel bill. I don’t have to pay for gas so we can leave the Walmart parking lot." She smiles when she looks up now. “It’s mine. All mine."
"It is all yours,” I say. “We can go down to the bank, and you can open an account."
She nods her head. “I don’t know if I can ever repay you,” she says softly, and I tilt my head to the side. “For everything you’ve given me."
I smile at her. “I’m glad I’m the first one to give you that,” I say, wanting to take her in my arms and kiss the top of her head. “I have to go and talk to Amelia,” I say, and she nods.
Walking out, I stop when I get three feet away from her and let out a deep breath. Turning, I look at her as she stands in the middle of the stall looking at the envelope she’s holding in her hand. “You’ve given me life,” I say softly. “You’ve given me a life."
Chapter 24
Willow
I stand in the middle of the stall with the white envelope in my hand containing the check of six hundred dollars in my hand. In my name. For work that I didn’t even know I was doing.
The past week has been a dream come true for me. Waking up every morning, I’m eager to start the day and itching to get up and get to the barn where my joy waits for me. The nights have been smooth sailing with no nightmares. No dreams of darkness, but instead of green trees and my girl Hope.
It’s not to say that I was free. Oh no, those fears are ingrained in me. Fear that it would be taken away from me in the middle of the night. Fear that I’ll wake up and everyone will know the whole truth about me. Fear that when I look into Quinn’s eyes, there won’t be the light in it, but instead hatred. So, I kept my bag tucked away close to the bed. A bed that I slept in every single night but refused to get under the covers. Just like the closet full of clothes all waiting for me, yet I stick to two pairs of jeans. I wear one during the day and one at night to sleep in.
I walk out of the stall and look down the pathway seeing a couple of people I’ve met this week. People who had no idea I was a broken woman. People who accepted me with a smile and a nod. People who come in every single morning and say good morning. None of them looking at me differently because of who I was or where I came from. To them, I am just Willow, the girl who mucks out the stalls for fun. Who talks to the horses and brings them water and food. To them, I’m just Willow, and I’ve never been just Willow.
I walk out of the stall and head over to Hope’s stall. “Did you eat?" I ask, and I walk to her and hug her neck. “I love you, pretty girl,” I say with tears in my eyes. Tears because that is the first time in my life that I said those words out loud. Tears because I know what it’s like to love someone for the first time in my life. My heart hammers in my chest so hard that I think I’m going to have a panic attack. I start to pant out, and Hope must feel it because she moves her head and I look into her eyes. "Look at us,” I say, laughing while I use the back of my hand to wipe away my tears. “Two broken souls finding love." I laugh at the irony of it.
"Hey," Amelia says, sticking her head into the stall. “Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I say softly. “Just a bit—"
"Overwhelmed." She finishes the sentence for me. “I get it."
I look at her and shake my head. “You are the most put-together person I have ever met,” I say. She has uprooted her life to move into Quinn’s house for me. She has two jobs, and I think she sleeps less than I do.
"It’s smoke and mirrors,” she says. “I’m burning the candle at both ends, as my grandmother says, and I’m feeling it starting to catch up to me."
"Can I help?" I ask, and she smiles at me.
"Not unless you can make more hours to the day," she jokes, and if I could, I would make it happen for her. "You have a doctor's appointment today."
"Oh, shit,” I say, putting my hand to my head. “I forgot."
"Quinn is waiting for you in the office,” she says, and I nod at her.
"I’ll be right there,” I say, and she turns to walk away.
"Okay, I’m going to leave for a bit," I tell Hope. “Hopefully, they take this sling off today." I smile at her and walk out, clicking the doors closed.
Walking toward the office, I see Quinn sitting in the chair while he’s on his phone. He looks up at me and smiles when he sees me, and my heart stops beating in my chest. It does that every single time he looks at me or talks to me. Or we sit on the swing at night after supper, and our hands are close to each other. "Are you ready?" he asks, and I just nod at him. "Call me if there is anything,” he says to Amelia.
"Have fun,” she says, taking another gulp from her cup of coffee. “Good luck.” She turns back and returns to whatever paperwork she’s doing. We walk over to the golf cart, and in a matter of minutes, we are back home.
"I have to shower quickly,” I say, and he just nods at me.
"I’ll do the same,” he says. “We have time. Your appointment is not for another hour."
I walk toward the bedroom, not looking back at him. I take my shower in record time, my arm hurting less and less. I walk out and go toward the pair of clean jeans folded on the chair. I pick them up, and I’m about to put them on when I turn around and walk into the full closet. Grabbing one of the pair of jeans that I’ve been dying to try on—a light blue pair—I slip them on, wondering if it would be okay if I used these jeans also. I could pay for them if they say anything. I grab one of the white tank tops and slip it on. I slip on the white running shoes that I wore one day to the barn and got them just a touch dirty. I get up and look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time, I’m shocked.
My face is fuller than it’s ever been. My cheeks have little freckles that look
like they are coming out. My arms have a bronze color, and my eyes, my eyes have never been so clear. I look down, not sure I want to think what I’m thinking.
I walk out and see that Quinn is in the kitchen wearing dark blue jeans with a white T-shirt, and his hair is wet from the shower. His eyes are focused on his phone. "Are you ready?" I ask. He looks up, and his mouth hangs open.
"You …" he says. “You look beautiful, Willow." I smile.
I want to tell him that it’s the new jeans, but all the words leave my head. “Thank you,” I say to him, and he gets up and walks to me, his hand going to my lower back like he always does. He opens the door for me and buckles my seat belt for me. "I can do it,” I say, and he stops moving. His face is in front of mine, and when I look into his eyes, I can see the little flecks of blue.
"Soon, you won’t need me for anything,” he says, his voice soft, and I swallow down the fear that is creeping up again. He moves away from me, shutting the door. I look out the window the whole time we drive.
Shirley spots us walking right away, and she throws up her hands. “Oh my goodness,” she says, walking toward us. “Who do we have here?” I laugh, seeing her, and she hugs me softly. “You look like a brand-new person.” She looks at me and then at Quinn. “What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been resting,” I say and look down.
“Not with that tan, you haven’t.” She laughs.
“I’ve been hanging around the barn,” I say and then look at Quinn.
“She’s been more than hanging out. She’s been working with the horses.”
Shirley’s eyes go big. “Oh, my.”
“I get them water and feed them,” I say, shaking my head.
“She mucks their stalls and makes sure they get exercise,” Quinn says, and when I look up at him this time, I see how proud he is.
“Well, I’ll be,” Shirley says. “Now let’s see how that shoulder is healing.”
Two hours later, I’m walking out of the hospital with no sling on. “Does it hurt?” Quinn says, looking over at me and stopping in the middle of the walkway. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I laugh. “You heard Shirley,” I say. “I just have to be careful.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think.” I laugh, and he just looks at me.
“You have a great, great laugh,” he says, and just the way his voice is causes my stomach to flip just a touch.
“I haven’t had much to laugh about before,” I say, and then he smiles.
“Well then, I think this calls for some celebration,” he says. “Let’s hit the diner.”
“What?” I ask him, almost whispering.
“We are going to go to the diner and have dinner,” he says, grabbing my hand and turning to walk toward the truck. I try to wrap my head around all of it, and when he opens the truck door for me, I stop in front of him.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I say.
“It’s just a diner. Besides, I want to show you the town,” he says. I look at him, and I can feel him hiding something, but I just don’t know it yet. “If at any time you don’t feel comfortable, we can leave.”
I look up at him and see the smirk on his face. “You think you're slick.” I fold my arms over my chest, and I feel a pull, but it’s normal after not using it in three weeks.
He laughs at me. “Do you want me to buckle you in, or can you do it yourself?” I glare at him, getting into the truck and buckling my own seat belt. He closes the truck door, and when he gets in, I look over at him as he gets his glasses on. He is the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But more importantly, he has the biggest heart.
He pulls into the parking lot, and he looks over at me. “You ready?” he asks, and I shake my head. “I’ll be right there.”
He gets out of the truck, and my hand is on the handle when he opens my door. He holds out his hand to help me, and I take it. I’m expecting him to drop my hand once my feet hit the pavement, but he doesn’t.
I look around and see groups of teenagers all over the place. “What’s going on?” I ask, and he looks at me.
“It’s Friday night,” he says. “All the kids meet here before they go and watch the Friday night game.”
“That really happens?” I ask, and he smiles at me. “I thought it was just in the movies.”
He shakes his head and is about to say something when someone calls his name. “Quinn.” I look over and see someone who looks very much like Quinn come jogging to him.
“Hey,” Quinn says, giving him a hug. “Are you behaving?”
“As much as you did at my age,” the boy says. “Hey there, darlin’,” he says to me. Quinn pushes his shoulder back, and he laughs.
“Back off, little brother,” he says to him, and I can see it. They have the same eyes, but his hair is black instead of blond. “Willow, this is Reed.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, and he just smiles at me when someone calls his name.
“I have to go.” He turns back to us. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he tells his brother. “And I hope to see you soon, darlin’.”
“Remember that time you thought I shot you in the ass.” Quinn glares at him while Reed just laughs. “Keep that darlin’ shit up, and I will.”
He holds up his hands, laughing. “Duly noted,” he says, walking backward.
“Did you just threaten to shoot your brother?” I look at him as we continue walking into the diner.
“If he called you darlin’ one more time, I would consider it.” He opens the door with his free hand and holds it open for me to step in. “My mother would whip my ass, but it would be worth it.”
I shake my head as I step into the diner, wearing a smile on my face. I see the whole diner is full. Teenagers fill some of the booths and tables as the sound of laughter fills the room. I look around and keep my head down. I expect people to look at me and point. I expect people to watch my every move. I expect them to look down on me. But none of that happens. No one notices me. No one points. No one wrinkles their nose at me. No one treats me like I have a disease or shies away from me when we walk in.
“Are you okay?” Quinn says from beside me, and for the first time in my whole life, I feel like this is somewhere I could live. This could be home for me. I can picture myself living here and being one of them.
“I’m fine,” I say to him, and fuck do I ever mean it.
Chapter 25
Quinn
I hold her hand walking into the diner because if she is feeling anything, her body will go tight, and I’ll feel it.
The last thing I want is for her not to be comfortable here. My goal is to show her why she should stay, and if she doesn’t like it … well, I wasn’t even going to go there because there was no way I was going to let her leave.
“Where do you want to sit?” she asks. Someone bumps into her, and she stumbles into my arms. I wrap an arm around her waist to protect her from falling. Her hands go to my chest as she looks up with big eyes. “You okay?”
“I’m so sorry,” one of the teenagers says as she turns to walk out.
“Do you want to go?” I ask, hoping she thinks about her answer so I can have her in my arms longer than I should.
“Hey, you two,” I hear behind me and look to see Chelsea and Mayson. “Oh, you got the sling off,” she says when she sees both of Willow's hands.
“I did,” Willow says and takes a step out of my arms. The arm wrapped around her waist falls to my side.
“That’s amazing,” Chelsea says. “Let’s grab that booth.” She points at a booth in the back that was just vacated by six teenagers.
Chelsea slips her hand in Mayson’s as they walk to the booth. “If you want to go.”
“I’m good,” she says, smiling, and turns to follow Chelsea. Her head dips just a bit as she tries not to make eye contact with anyone.
She slips into the booth in front of Chelsea, and I slip in beside her in front of Mayson. I see her eyes roaming
all over the place as she takes it all in. “Are those jukeboxes?” she asks, pointing at a couple who are still here in some of the booths.
“Yes,” I tell her. “And they have songs from the eighties.”
Her eyes light up, and her mouth opens. “That is pretty cool,” she says, and then I hand her a menu. “I’m not hungry,” she says, ignoring my eyes. “I’ll have water.”
My heart speeds up, and I’m not the only one. “You will not,” Mayson says, looking at her, and then at Chelsea, who looks at him like he hangs the moon.
“I don’t really want anything,” Willow says, and I can see her finger tap the table, which means she’s worried about something.
“The burgers are where it’s at,” Chelsea says, looking at her. “But it’s a bit too much for me, so you want to split it?” I wait to see what she is going to say. Knowing full well it isn’t too much for Chelsea because she always finishes her burger.
The waitress comes over, and I order a double burger for myself with fries and rings with two root beer floats. Chelsea looks at me and orders the same thing. Mayson orders two of whatever I ordered, and he looks at the table. “I haven’t eaten all day.”
Chelsea starts talking about her week at the new clinic where she’s working, and when the root beer floats come, I put one in front of Willow, who just looks at me.
“What is this?” she asks, confused as to what the brown bubbly liquid is with the scoop of ice cream floating on top.
“This,” I say, handing her the long spoon and a straw, “is a root beer with a scoop of ice cream.”
“It’s to die for,” Chelsea says of her own now. “Try it.”
She puts the straw in and takes a sip. “That is a little weird,” she says and takes another sip, this time coughing. “The bubbles came out of my nose.”
I shake my head and watch her work her way through it until the burgers arrive. I look at Mayson, who takes one of his burger trays and hands it to Willow. “Here, I’m not hungry anymore.” I look at him, knowing he is lying, and then I look at Chelsea, who looks at me and then down, hiding a smile. “If you don’t eat it, it’s going to go to waste.”
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