Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Gideon
Light snow was falling. I got out of my pickup and rolled my shoulders. The drive had been long, the roads had been crap for some of the way, but I’d made the haul in one day.
I faced the modern-looking condo buildings. They were single level and zero entry, hooked together and built in three different sections to make a courtyard that would be nice in the summer. Right now, the gazebo was full of snow. Same with the walking paths.
The sounds of distant engines surrounded me, but this neighborhood was quiet. The light in the unit before me glowed through the closed curtains.
I knocked on the door. The shuffle of footsteps was faint on the other side.
The door swept open without hesitation, not even enough time to have looked through the peephole. Dad’s brows lifted. His beard was neatly trimmed, but he wore the same old clothing as before. He was a wealthy man, but he appeared to be living simply still. “Giddy?”
“Hi, Dad.”
He didn’t move. I didn’t move.
He leaned out and looked around. His gaze landed on the brand-new red truck I’d bought the day before last. “You alone?”
So goddamn alone. “Why didn’t you sell to me? I need plain words.”
He sighed and pushed the door open. “Come on in. We’re heating up the neighborhood.”
The inside of his unit was completely different than the house I’d grown up in. He’d bought much-needed new furniture. A simple love seat and recliner. Not much more would fit. A small dining room linked the living room and the kitchen.
One thing was the same. The last family photo we’d taken the summer before Mom died hung on the wall across from the recliner. He’d have to look at Mom’s smiling face every day. In the picture, I was grinning. Mom had just teased Dad about his crooked mustache and we’d all laughed. The moment was captured for eternity.
I didn’t sit. I shoved my hands in my coat pockets. It was the same coat I’d used when I was here last time. “I know you said we all have to be free to live our own life. I think I understand, but I’m afraid I don’t. And I have to be sure.” My throat threatened to close up. “I have to be certain.”
He lowered himself onto the edge of the love seat and pressed his fingertips together. “Did you know your mother wanted to be a teacher?”
Shock hit before a slow burn of dawning horror. The back of my neck grew hot as a few comments Dad had made when we’d talked last month crept in. “No.”
“She wasn’t allowed to leave town for college. Her place was the farm. Only child and all.”
The dismay seared worse in my gut. “She loved Percival.”
“Yeah, she was always good at making lemonade out of lemons.” Fondness filled his gaze. “We talked a lot about you, and what would happen when you grew up. She was worried you’d think that this was all there was in life. That her dad would put the same pressure on you that he’d put on her.”
I closed my eyes. He had. “I loved Percival.”
“I think you felt like you had to love Percival, or you were nothing.”
I inhaled sharply. The place had been my home. It’d been the center of all my happy memories. Yet the happiness in those memories came from Mom and Dad. Not the farm.
“Neither of us liked how your grandfather pressured you. He was obsessed with the place, and I think his declining health made him more of a fanatic. He couldn’t be around to control everything. Your mom wanted you to be free to live your own life. It was important to her that you had the opportunities she hadn’t. She once said that she ought to sell the place to put a stop to her dad’s poisonous thinking.”
I sank my head into my hands. The sale had been Mom’s idea? Blocking me had originated with her? “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t give a shit about the farm or ranch; she wasn’t there and I didn’t care. I know you hated me for it, but I’d rather have you hate me than her. Your head was filled so full with your grandpa’s words, I thought it was all or nothing. Either you’re completely free of Percival and you can figure out what you really want in life, or you’d be anchored to that place and you’d die with nothing but your pride while cursing any future kids to my and your mom’s fate.”
Dad hadn’t wanted to be nothing but a farmer or rancher. He’d limited his options for Mom and then he’d gotten stuck out there. If he’d tried to sell when Grandpa Percival was still alive, my grandfather would’ve made his life hell.
And mine by proximity. “You should’ve told me. You should’ve trusted me to put the blame where it belonged.” Would it have changed anything?
It didn’t matter.
Dad worked his jaw back and forth. “Maybe I was afraid of you resenting her for leaving you with a mess. I didn’t want that. For either of us.”
We couldn’t go back in time and change our actions. And I was so damn tired of being angry. “I’m sorry,” I said hoarsely.
“No.” Dad shook his head once. “ No . You do not have anything to apologize for. By the time I sobered up, I was too late to be a good influence. Too late to tell you that you could do anything you wanted.”
“I wouldn’t have known what I wanted. I would’ve said Percival.”
“It shouldn’t have been an all-or-nothing decision,” he said sadly.
“Grandpa Percival made it that way.”
“You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you acknowledge that. Gives me hope that someday you may not hate me.”
I swallowed hard and tipped my head back to look at the off-white ceiling. The walls were plain, but Dad’s home was brighter than ours had ever been after Mom died. “I don’t hate you.”
“You know, I might start to believe that.”
“Because I’m here?”
He shook his head. “You didn’t bite my head off when I called you Giddy.” A smile tipped up the corner of his mouth. “And you called me Dad tonight.”
“Shit, Dad.” I pushed a hand through my hair. The ball cap I’d worn last was on the passenger seat. “I’ve been awful to you and I was a selfish ass with Autumn.”
“I have to admit I’m glad you’re not just in town for me.” He pointedly looked at my bare ring finger. My ring was in my pocket. “I’ve been worried that you two were no more.”
“I miss home. I found it again with Autumn and I threw it away.” The next part might hurt him, but I had to say it. He’d have the answers. “I’m terrified of losing her. I’m...”
“Scared of turning into me?” Sadness filled his gaze. He crossed to me, grabbed both of my shoulders, and hauled me into his arms. I was a few inches taller than him, but I was propelled back in time. He was my old dad, the one from the happy memories I’d never push away again.
When he pulled back, he studied me. “You’re scared of turning into me.” It wasn’t a question.
“I understand, you know. Every time I get upset and want a drink, I think about how much like you I am.” I didn’t say it to be mean .
Regret passed through his expression. “Hell, Giddy, I’m sorry. If someone had told me before your mom died I’d have an alcohol problem, I’d have never believed ’em. You’re aware of the urge. You’re already ahead of me. I’m proud of you, you know. Always have been.”
His words closed a wound deep inside me that I’d been ignoring. “Autumn wants kids.”
“Do you?”
“They petrify me, but...” I wanted to be that guy holding all the bags while I took my wife and kids on a trip. “There were several years when my dad was pretty kick-ass. I’ve had a good role model all along.”
His eyes filled with tears and he pulled me into him again. “I needed to hear that, and I didn’t even know it.”
My arms were pinned to my sides. When was the last time I’d hugged my dad? So many years we’d missed. I embraced him back, awkward as hell, but I did it.
After a minute he pulled away, blinking back his tears. “You left town and then weeks went by. I thought if that girl can’t keep you in town, this old man won’t bring you back.” Hope lit his eyes. I knew what he’d been afraid of.
The urge to tell him everything was strong. Yeah, Dad. I married Autumn to fool you into selling to me . But there had been more reasons for walking into that posh chapel with her. She’d captivated me from the very beginning. “The important thing is, now I’m back.”
Autum n
The company Christmas party at Copper Summit was both winding down and livening up. Chance, Brinley, and Darin had gone home with Mama an hour ago. They were sleeping over at her place. Same with Elsa. Myles and Wynter had driven her over, then returned a few minutes ago. They were at a table with Jonah and Summer.
Tenor and Teller were standing around another table, chatting with the distillers and our delivery drivers. Each of my brothers had a glass of bourbon and was gesturing with it like Daddy used to do.
Junie had gone back to Nashville to spend the holiday writing songs with some friends. She rarely stayed in town long, and with her growing popularity, she usually snuck in and out of city limits. She claimed she never wanted coming home to be a story. Summer, Wynter, and I thought she didn’t want to run across the high school sweetheart she’d left behind and his adorable daughters.
Tate looked like he was trying to pick up Scarlett, their heads tipped together, both of them smiling and laughing. Tate used to work the crowd when he was the boss, but since he’d taken over the ranch, he’d chat a little, then dote on his wife.
I gulped down my jealousy. Could I use the diarrhea excuse to leave early?
No. No leaving before the party was done. Whenever I heard back from the company I’d hired to do the divorce, I’d be single. I would not wallow in self-pity.
I would not wallow as much.
Maybe one day I would have what Tate, Wynter, and Summer had. Maybe. One day, one year, a long time from now .
I stretched out the fingers of my left hand. Don’t look.
I was behind the bar. In my safe place. I had on a green Christmas sweater with puffy balls for tree ornaments, a thick brown skirt, and knee-high boots. I looked festive.
I wasn’t.
I would eventually have to explain why I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring tonight. My sisters had noticed, but they hadn’t asked. Too many others around. The ring was at home, tucked into a jewelry box and pushed to the far corner of my dresser. Tonight was the night to debut a bare ring finger.
My “try to announce the end of my marriage without looking pathetic” plan was now in full swing. In the break room at work, my coworkers still asked about Gideon. On Monday, I’d tell them the winter weather and our work were keeping us apart. I’d comment that our lives were just too separate—insert heartbroken pout. His work was important to him. My family was in Montana. I’d field the pitying looks like a champ and then cry to Sprinkles at night.
The worst of my plan would be my brothers. They all “happened” to stop in at the bar and ask how I was doing each night I worked. They never asked about Gideon. They didn’t point out that their suspicions might’ve been right, that Gideon had only married me to manipulate the sale. I didn’t mention that yes, he had.
Some things a girl just had to keep to herself.
I’d cry to my cat and my sisters.
But first, I needed the closure of the signed divorce papers. Gideon should’ve gotten the email a few days ago. The marriage would be officially over any day. The company I’d hired promised me a quick divorce. Vegas was known for quickie weddings. An easy divorce wasn’t as heavily advertised, but they offered that too.
Tenor wandered over. His brown eyes were full of concern. He pushed his glasses up. His longish hair hung over the thick frames. “Gideon couldn’t make it?”
Of my three brothers, I hadn’t thought he’d be the one to broach the subject. Tate and Teller were more direct, but they’d tiptoed around me since Gideon had left town. Tenor had been on the receiving end of my emotions, thanks to the inventory talk, but here he was. Fitting he’d be the first to hear about the end of me and Gideon.
I sipped from the small straw in my Kentucky mule. I hadn’t added enough bourbon to make what I had to say any easier and this was my first and only drink of the night. Anxiety swirled in my stomach, but at least it took the focus off the pain around my heart. The only communication between me and Gideon had been the email with the divorce documents, and it hadn’t been sent directly from me.
It was time. “We actually decided a divorce would be best.”
Tenor cocked his head like he couldn’t believe what I’d said. “Divorce?”
“Yep.” I popped the p and took another long sip. The lime had enough bite to keep me from getting lost in my own foul mood. Hard to be upset when the taste of summer danced on my tongue. “We tried. So there is that.”
“Autumn.”
It was the pity. The “I’m so sorry” and “I saw this coming” look I’d been dreading. My pulse kicked up. He was right. I’d known this was coming and I was still devastated.
I was a fool. The worst kind—a fool in love with a broken heart.
“No, no. It’s fine. I mean, we tried.” My voice caught. Had I tried? Gideon hadn’t. But what if I had tried harder?
Teller appeared by Tenor. “What’s going on?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tate making his way around the people at the bar to come our way. Scarlett’s gaze was on me, but she’d know having a crowd around me would only make me feel self-conscious. My sisters knew what was up.
I wiggled my ring finger and forced a smile. “The marriage will be officially over soon. Our lives are in different places.” I sounded scripted.
Now, I had three brothers with narrowed gazes on me.
“That asshole,” Teller growled.
I shook my head. I was disappointed in Gideon, but I couldn’t stand hearing them rage about my soon-to-be nonhusband. This had been both of our decisions. “No, it’s fine. I mean, everyone saw this coming.”
“Maybe that’s what we thought at first,” Tate said. “But not for long. I really thought he’d find a way to make it work.”
He had to want to first.
Teller pushed forward and wrapped me in a bear hug. “We’re here for you.”
I was crushed against him, and I couldn’t move. I also didn’t want to. Grief slipped past my wobbly mental barrier and washed over me. No matter how much I’d told myself the marriage wasn’t real, it had felt legit. My time with Gideon had been a dream, but I hadn’t been imagining it.
I let out a shuddering breath and soaked in the brotherly comfort. Junie’s visit had been needed. Now I leaned on my brothers’ strength. I needed them to baby me in the way that usually chafed. I was back to being an injured girl scared of her future. The wounds weren’t physical and my future wasn’t uncertain this time. It was just empty.
I opened my eyes. The other employees would soon hear about the divorce and word would spread. They’d do the work for me. Then it’d be officially over.
My face was still smashed sideways into Teller’s chest as Tate stroked a hand down his beard, his brows sewn together. The bell on the door tinkled. He glanced over and did a double take and straightened.
The din in the bar quieted down. Teller’s hold eased, and now Tenor frowned at the entrance. I couldn’t see around Teller, so I stepped to the side to peek at what kind of guest had made the bar quiet down.
Gideon prowled toward me. His gaze didn’t waver to my brothers or any of the other partygoers. He was focused on me.
Now I was dreaming. The divorce was messing with my head.
My brothers didn’t part for him. They had all turned to face Gideon and were barriers around me, blocking off the opening to get behind the bar. I tried to nudge Teller and Tenor out of the way, but I might as well have shoved at concrete walls.
“Gideon? What are you doing here?” I had to be hallucinating. But my brothers wouldn’t be on guard for some other tall man with broad shoulders, dark hair, and piercing green eyes. Except if Gideon were really here, he’d look like a corporate god instead of dressing in the same clothing he’d moved cattle in and the coat he’d bought for his brief return to a Montana winter.
“I deleted that goddamn email.” His voice was smoother and richer than any bourbon we could produce. And it was real. He was here.
“What email?”
His gaze finally jumped to Teller, then Tate, and finally Tenor before swinging back to me. “You know which one.”
The only movement behind him were my sisters creeping closer. They were a lot shorter than the guys, but they’d still jump Gideon and hide his body if he hurt me.
Did he have any idea what he had walked into?
Wait—he’d deleted the email. The email. “Why? You weren’t sending those documents.”
Every day I’d cringe when I checked my inbox. Every day, I’d exhale a relieved sigh, then pass through hope to despair, only to fret about checking my email the next day. I couldn’t keep doing that. I couldn’t keep wondering if he was just too busy to even think about me enough to sever the weak tie between us.
“You’re my wife, Autumn. I want to keep it that way.”
I laughed. The sound just burst out of me. He wanted to keep me? To keep us? “You won’t leave your job.”
“I just did.”
My vocal cords froze. He’d quit?
“I told them I got married two months ago, and living apart wasn’t worth the paycheck.” He waved a hand toward the window. “Then I packed my things and bought a pickup to drive here.”
He’d bought a pickup. I couldn’t read into that. So he had a mode of transportation. Most people did.
The guy rarely left Silver.
But he was here.
“I stopped to talk to Dad first,” he said softly. “Or I’d have been here earlier. But I couldn’t see you until I cleared a few things up with him.”
The ache in my chest lessened. He’d called him Dad instead of Hank. No. I was reading too much into this. His life was in upheaval. “What about the other job offer?”
“I told Harold I’d be interested in investing with him on smaller projects, but first I have some playground equipment to buy for a school in my hometown. I am otherwise unemployed.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anyway. We’re millionaires.”
Another laugh burst out of me. Yes, I was financially comfortable. When my family’s companies depended on the economy, grain prices, and taxes, we tended to be savers and not spenders. “I’m not rich, Mr. Casino.”
“You’re my wife. We’re rich. My lawyer’s going to make the postnup go away—unless you’re afraid I’ll have some say on your property. It doesn’t matter to me because we’re never getting divorced.” He swung his gaze across my family members. Seemingly undaunted by their presence and the still quiet bar, he continued, “All that money is what I saved to buy Percival. Now it’s what I can live on. If you don’t mind having a househusband.”
I stared at him. Rich. Househusband. None of this was making sense .
He glanced back and forth between Teller and Tenor. They moved aside finally and I was exposed.
“I’ve missed you.” Gideon crossed to me. “I’ve done nothing but miss you and regret that I couldn’t be the guy that you want. Then I saw that damn email. I can’t lose you, Autumn. The month I had with you was the best of my life. I want more. I want forever with you. I want kids. I want more cats. A dog. Maybe a bigger house, but our current home will do until our family grows.”
Fear tore through me, got smothered by hope, only to turn to disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“I’m so goddamn sure. The talk I had with Dad cleared a lot of things up. I grew up being told everything in my life revolved around Percival and that’s not what my mom wanted for me. Dad knew it and that’s why he wouldn’t sell to me.”
“Oh, Gideon.” I put my hand on his hard chest. He was so warm. So real.
“It was the best thing he could’ve done for me. I thought I was losing my legacy, the only place I thought of as home, but you’re my home, Autumn. Wherever you are is home.” He dug in his coat pocket and dropped to one knee.
Stunned, I could only watch. What was happening?
He opened a small black velvet box. “I know you already have a ring, but this was the one I was going to buy you in the first place.”
The five-carat diamond from the wedding chapel. “Gideon.”
“I know you won’t wear it, but I needed to do this. I have to be the husband I wasn’t during our first month. I love you so damn much. So, Autumn Kerrigan. Will you stay married to me?”
My fantasy was on his knee before me, offering me everything I wanted. “Oh god, yes.” I flung myself at him. He caught me before my knees hit the floor. I was in his arms again, his mouth pressed against mine, and I no longer felt empty. “I love you too.”