Heart Captivated

by Lindsay Bergman

  “Brielle, that would never happen,” Ashton vowed.

  “You say that now, but you can’t guarantee you won’t change your mind later.”

  “There are no guarantees in this life. No one knows what’s going to happen ten years from now, or even tomorrow. You can’t live your life in fear of the unknown. You have to learn to trust again.” He cradled my face and looked intently into my eyes. “You have to trust in me. You have to trust that my love is enough to last a lifetime.”

  “But what if it’s not? My dad loved me for those first ten years—I know he did! But one day he just stopped. Because if he still loved us, then how could he have left us all behind?” I shook my head, my heart aching with unanswered questions. “You don’t abandon the people you love,” I growled. “So that could only mean one thing: he didn’t love us.”

  “Brielle, I don’t know why he left, but I promise it had nothing to do with his love for you.”

  “You can’t know that—you don’t even know him.” I looked away from Ashton’s piercing blue gaze. “A parent wouldn’t walk away from their child unless they did something wrong.” The uncertainty I’d felt as a child rose to the surface, blinding me to anything but the pain of abandonment.

  “Mon coeur, you did nothing wrong,” Ashton insisted, angling his face to look me in the eye. “His reasons for leaving had nothing to do with you.”

  “But if he loved me, why didn’t he stay?” I whispered painfully.

  “He did love you, Brielle. Even though he walked away in the end.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Ashton frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “He loved me … but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.” I couldn’t look at him after I’d voiced the truth. I was too afraid to see the agreement in his eyes. I hadn’t been good enough for my own dad. How could I be good enough for a prince?

  Ashton sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re not just talking about your dad?”

  I winced at his ability to see straight through me, as always. Then I straightened my shoulders and met his direct gaze. I was proud of who I was, even if it would never be good enough for a prince. “Ashton, I have never pretended to be anything but what I am. The things you love about me are great for a life in the country, but they won’t make for a good princess. When you realize that, I’m afraid you’ll be the one to walk away in the end … even though you love me.”

  Ashton scowled at my words. Taking hold of my upper arms, he said in a slow, measured voice, “Brielle, I am not looking for a princess. I’m looking for a wife.” A smile tugged at his lips as he chuckled, “You would be an unconventional princess, I’ll admit. But I’m not the crown prince, and I’m not looking for a princess to rule at my side. It makes no difference to me if you are the best or worst princess in Coradova. I’m looking for a wife to share my life with, and you, my captivating Brielle, would be an amazing wife.

  “You are loyal, compassionate, giving, loving. You challenge me, you excite me—and hell, you’ve even bested me. When I’m with you, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Even sailing doesn’t hold the same appeal without you by my side. I’m in love with you, Brielle Parker, for everything you are and everything you aren’t. There’s no one I’d rather spend my life with, than you, bien-aimée.” He smoothed a hand over my hair and smiled crookedly. “My beautiful, American cowgirl.”

  “You really are one smooth-talking Prince Charming.” Shaking my head, I slipped my arms around his waist in a warm hug and laid my cheek against his chest before admitting, “I’m scared to love you.”

  “I know,” he replied softly, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight. “That’s why I promise to be careful with your heart.”

  Wrapped up in his arms, I was content to lapse into silence and simply enjoy the feel of this moment with him. They were too few and far between.

  Several minutes later, Ashton cautiously asked over the top of my head, “What do you want to do about your dad?”

  I hesitated for a brief moment before answering. “I’m going to meet him for dinner. Maybe he’s hoping to reconcile, like Sophie said.”

  “And if he’s not?”

  “Then at least I tried. I’ll never know unless I give him a chance, right?” I leaned back to peer up into Ashton’s handsome, loving face. Our eyes met, and I hoped that the double meaning behind my words was clear. “I can’t be afraid forever. I need to take more chances in life, including taking a chance on love.”

  Ashton smiled broadly. “I promise I’m a chance worth taking.” He scooped me up into his arms and playfully spun me around. I giggled as he set me back down on my feet and planted a kiss on my lips.

  I warned, “But this isn’t official, not unless Sophie—”

  “I know.” Ashton kissed me again, sending my pulse racing.

  I melted into his kiss and allowed the strength of his arms to hold me up. When he finally eased back, I told him, “I’m only saying that maybe one day we can be together—”

  “—if Sophie ever gives us her blessing,” Ashton finished. He kissed me again, effectively covering up any further protests I could have made. “I know the limitations, Brielle. I’m just happy that you’re willing to give us a chance. That’s all I’ve ever wanted—just a chance.”

  “I know,” I said softly, stroking his cheek. “You are a chance worth taking, Ashton. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get here.”

  “You are worth the wait, bien-aimée,” Ashton promised. “No matter how long it takes.”

  His mouth covered mine in a warm, melting kiss that filled me with eager butterflies and made my heart take flight. It was tender and loving, and brimming with endless promise. I’d finally found a love that was worth the risk.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was impossible to miss the relief on Sophie’s face when she saw me enter the restaurant.

  “Brielle, thank goodness.” She stood the moment I reached her table and hugged me tightly. “Thank you for being here. I didn’t want to do this without you.” She eased back to meet my eyes. “And I’m really sorry for everything I said earlier. You have every reason to be guarded, and I’m glad that you’re careful with your heart. I would hate to see it broken by some guy—and I don’t mean by Ashton,” she added hurriedly. “I think he really cares about you, so please don’t let my stupid comments scare you away from him.”

  “It’s okay, Sophie,” I soothed, joining her at the small rectangular table. “I forgive you, as long as you agree to forgive me, too. I’m glad that you’re brave enough to take chances, and that you can still find joy in life after everything that’s happened to us. I want you to find love, and you can’t do that unless you go for it. I wish I was more like you.”

  “You’re braver than you think, Bree.” Sophie gestured at the surrounding restaurant. “You’re here, ready to face the man who abandoned us and broke your heart. You might be hesitant to love, but you’ve never been afraid to love with your whole heart. Dad is the one who lost out on the chance to be loved by you.”

  I held up my hand. “Okay, you need to stop it before you make me cry.” My emotions were way too unstable to handle such kind sentiments.

  Sophie chuckled and patted my arm. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

  We sat quietly as a waiter brought us two glasses of water with lemon slices, and attempted to look over the menu—although I doubted I’d be able to eat a single bite.

  My eyes rarely left the front doors, so I knew the exact moment when Jonathan Parker walked in. He was dressed in faded blue jeans, scuffed up boots and an earthy-colored plaid shirt. He walked with the swagger of a man who’d spent most of his life in the saddle of a horse, and held himself with a proud bearing. Until the moment he spotted us. Then his shoulders tensed and I could swear a hint of shame crossed his face. He hesitated beside the maître d’, as if pausing to gather his courage, then moved tentat
ively toward our table.

  He stopped behind an empty chair and looked us over uncertainly; probably trying to decide if he should attempt to hug us, or keep his distance. Eventually, he sank into a chair as an awkward silence settled over our table.

  Finally, Jonathan cleared his throat and spoke. “Hey, Sophie-bee, Bree-belle. Thank you for agreeing to meet me.” He attempted a smile. “I know it wasn’t easy for you girls, but I’m glad you’re both here.”

  Sophie smiled, and I nodded briskly. This was harder than I’d expected. To face the man who had abandoned us and pretend as if the last eleven, painful years had never existed.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Shooting a sidelong glance my way, Sophie reached under the table to grasp my hand. I was grateful for her silent offer of support and clung to her as we sat in silence.

  All three of us exchanged looks of uncertainty, our cheeks red from embarrassment. What did you say to someone you hadn’t seen in over a decade? The awkward tension surrounding us was so thick that it was nearly tangible.

  Before anyone could attempt to speak, our waiter arrived to take down our order. I picked the first entree I saw on the menu, and hoped that it wasn’t something strange, like squid. My nervous stomach could barely tolerate a bland chicken—I doubted it could handle rare exotic Coradovan cuisine.

  After our food had been ordered, Jonathan and Sophie ventured into tentative conversation while I merely sat in silence and listened to them tread carefully through the murky water of our past and present.

  “Are you girls in school?” Jonathan inquired.

  “We attend the University of Montana,” Sophie answered for us both.

  “That’s over in Missoula, right?” he verified, then continued at Sophie’s nod. “And you still live with Cameron on Hidden Creek Ranch?”

  Sophie nodded again. “Logan’s there, too. He’s starting his last year of school in the fall, then he plans to take over for Uncle Cameron.”

  “I always knew he had ranching in his blood,” Jonathan commented proudly. “He’ll make a fine rancher.”

  “Bree’s a fine rancher, too,” Sophie praised, sneaking a glance at me.

  “I always knew she would be,” Jonathan agreed, turning his brown eyes on me. I tried not to squirm under his direct gaze. He smiled fondly. “After all those years you spent trailing me through the pastures, you were bound to grow up into a rancher.”

  I looked away from him, uncomfortable with his praise. He knew nothing about me. What right did he have to feel proud over my accomplishments? Anger, hurt and betrayal fused together, burning through my veins. If he’d stuck around, maybe I could have followed my dreams and spent a year or two studying abroad after my mom’s death. Maybe I could have gotten a job that traveled and allowed me to spend my days exploring different countries, instead of being stuck on a ranch that held nothing but memories of my dead mother. It was true that ranching was in my blood, just like Logan’s. But I’d never loved it in the same way as my brother. For me, it was a means-to-an-end. An obligation. A sacrifice.

  Only one of many I’d made in the absence of the father who had abandoned us.

  I clenched my hands into fists and stared at the top of the table, instead of the man I wanted to hurl accusations at. I could feel his gaze on me, and prayed that he wouldn’t say anything more about my ranching skills.

  Our waiter’s timing was perfect when he arrived a moment later to deliver our meals. “Le coq au vin,” he announced, setting a plate down in front of me. I was relieved to see that it was chicken braised in wine, lardons and mushrooms. Focusing my attention on the meal, I cut a small bite and stuffed it into my mouth.

  As we worked our way through the meal, Sophie asked, “Where are you living these days?”

  “Up in Phillips County. Been there for about eight years now.”

  “Are you still a rancher?”

  “Yep. I finally have my own ranch.” It was impossible to miss the pride in his voice. It cut through me like a knife. “It’s small, but the land is beautiful and it pays the bills.” Jonathan hesitated, then said cautiously, “Maybe you girls and Logan can come up to visit sometime.”

  “I’d like that,” Sophie admitted softly.

  I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, but that didn’t stop my dad from asking again.

  “What about you, Bree-belle?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, still unable to make direct eye contact, and unwilling to commit to any type of renewed relationship with him. I shoveled another bite of chicken into my mouth.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet, Brielle,” Jonathan probed, and chuckled softly. “Not like the talkative little girl I remember.”

  I very carefully set down my fork and knife. “Well, maybe that’s because I’m not the little girl you remember,” I answered flatly, finally lifting my head to look him straight in the eye. “A lot changes in eleven years. Especially when you’re not around to see it.”

  Jonathan winced, at the same time as Sophie warned, “Brielle.”

  “No,” I growled, directing my words at Sophie. “We’ve spent enough time tiptoeing around the truth. If Dad hadn’t abandoned us eleven years ago, then he would know all about our lives. I can’t sit here any longer and listen to you two talk about things a parent should already know!” I turned an accusing glare on my dad. “What I want to know is, why? Why did you abandon us, and why are you here now?”

  “Brielle,” Sophie pleaded, but Jonathan held up a hand to hush her.

  “It’s all right, Sophie,” he said calmly, shifting his gaze from my twin to me. “Brielle is right. I owe you both an explanation.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his scruffy face. “This isn’t going to be easy for me to say, or for you to hear. If I explain how sorry I am, and that all I’m looking for now is another chance to be in your lives, can we just move on from here without digging into the past? Knowing why I left will only hurt you more.”

  I exchanged a look with Sophie. In one of those weird twin connections, her eyes alone gave me the answer I sought. Together, we turned back to face our father.

  “We still want to know the truth,” Sophie answered. “We can’t move on unless we know why you left in the first place.”

  Jonathan sighed and flicked his gaze between us. “All right, girls,” he relented, sighing again. He leaned back in his chair, his half-eaten meal forgotten, and focused his attention on the centerpiece instead of us. “It all started after we got back from our trip to the coast, when we found out about your mother’s cancer—”

  “What? No,” Sophie interjected, leaning forward to stare at him. “Mom wasn’t diagnosed until three years ago.”

  Jonathan grimaced. “I thought she would have told you,” he began, shifting uncomfortably. “Your mother was first diagnosed with Stage One cervical cancer over eleven years ago.”

  I shook my head in denial and disbelief, but he ignored me and continued.

  “I wanted to use the money we’d saved up to pay for her treatments, but she wanted me to use it to buy a ranch like we’d planned. We spent weeks arguing about it, but you know how stubborn your mother could be. She was afraid we would spend the money, and the treatments still wouldn’t work. The doctors estimated that if she couldn’t beat it, she’d have less than five years to live. She didn’t want me to give up my dreams because of her cancer.” He sighed, sounding so broken and forlorn that I struggled against the surge of compassion for him. “But what she couldn’t seem to understand was that I didn’t want any of it without her. The dream I’d always had of owning a ranch meant nothing if she wasn’t there to share it with me.”

  Jonathan’s words were shockingly reminiscent to how I’d felt about giving up my own dreams for her. Now I understood why my mom had gotten so angry about my decision to bow out of the study abroad program. We had both chosen her over our dreams.

  “We know that you didn’t buy a ranch,” Sophie said, “and that mom didn’t undergo treatments until three years
ago. So what happened? If you loved her as much as you say, then why did you leave her—and us?”

  He winced, guilt flashing in his brown eyes. “When she wouldn’t agree to the treatments, I panicked. I—I was a coward. You have to understand that I loved her, but I couldn’t stick around to watch her die. I just couldn’t do it. So I … I left.” He dropped his head, shoulders sagging in shame.

  Time seemed to freeze. I stared at the pitiful, broken man who’d once been a proud rancher, husband and father.

  “You left her to die,” I whispered harshly. “You abandoned your children and your sick wife—all because you were too afraid to lose her?”

  “How could you do that?” Sophie exclaimed, her voice sharp with accusation. “You lost her anyway because you ran away like a coward—and you lost your family!”

  “I know,” Jonathan said hoarsely, looking pale and guilt-ridden. “And I’ve regretted that decision every day since. But I was too ashamed to reach out to you, and too proud to beg for forgiveness.” He straightened in his chair and met my direct gaze—accusations and all. “I’m not too proud now. I’ll get down on my knees and beg if it means earning your forgiveness. I lost everything the day I walked out on you, and now I’m asking for a second chance to be a part of your lives.”

  After learning about my dad’s unforgivable cowardice, I stared at him in numbed silence, unwilling to give him the second chance he wanted.

  “Why now?” Sophie questioned. “You’ve had eleven years to change your mind. Why are you here now, and in Coradova?”

  “I tried to reach out to you once before, a little over nine years ago. But Sharon wanted nothing to do with me, and warned me to stay away from you. She said our children were better off being raised by their uncle, than by their cowardly father.” He hung his head, looking beaten once more. “And she was right. She had every reason to hate me, after what I did. So I did what she asked and stayed away … until I heard about her passing.”

  “That was over a year ago,” Sophie pointed out.

  “I know.” Jonathan nodded and explained, “A few months after she died, I went to see Cameron, but he asked me to give you more time to grieve for your mother, so I waited again. I came out to Hidden Creek Ranch in June. I saw all three of you in the back pasture, with your neighbors and that prince from Coradova.”