Chapter 6
Carmen
K aitlyn, my best friend and go-to for all things Maddox, sits across from me in a window booth at our favorite restaurant. She scheduled this lunch date while we talked yesterday. Sadie had gone ahead with my parents to the Henderson’s while I closed the store, giving me private time for a desperate call to her before seeing Maddox again.
“How’d it go?” she asks, leaning over her menu with wide eyes.
“Worse and better than I expected.”
The menu flops to the table, a physical representation of how disappointing she found my answer. “That makes zero sense.”
“I know, but it’s the truth. When he first saw me, it broke him all over again.”
I’ll never forget seeing him like that—consuming heartbreak in his eyes and weakening his body. All because of me. How can he hold on to so much destructive emotion? I never wanted that for him, and it seems the universe turned a blind eye to my pleas. For too long, I let my conscience and regret believe my wish for him to find happiness had been granted. That delusion and the flimsy foundation it had been built on shattered the second I saw him.
It took everything in me to go after him when he walked out at the party, knowing I was the last person he wanted to see. But no matter how much time has passed or what happened while we were apart, I don’t want to hurt him. He’s too tenderhearted, too special, too Maddox.
I summarize the result of our conversation for Kaitlyn, omitting the details—those are meant only for Maddox and me—and brace for the questions I can’t answer.
“Once he learned Sadie wasn’t mine in the way he thought, he could look at me again. He hasn’t gotten past what I did, and I’m not sure he ever will.”
“Really? After all this time?”
I nod, unable to form words through the guilt battering me.
“What about you? Were there any lingering butterflies?”
“Kait.” My elbow plops onto the table, and I swoon worse than Chrissy and Sandra had the other day at the store. I’m not proud of it, but there’s no mistaking my attraction to the broody, hunk of a man who has already fallen in love with my daughter. “I never could have imagined the sweet boy I loved to turn into that. Butterflies weren’t the only thing he set into motion with those muscles and beautiful, sad eyes.”
“You still love him.”
“More than I realized.”
With a snap of her fingers, she points a purple fingernail at me. “This explains why you haven’t been able to connect with the guys you’ve dated.”
Defeated by reality setting back in and halting my melting, I let a sigh take over. “I’ve always known. I just didn’t want to admit it since I thought I’d never see him again.”
“Him showing up like this is happening for a reason, I just know it. It’s a second chance.” Her hands fold under her chin as excitement sparkles in her moss-colored eyes.
“I don’t deserve one. I never should have walked away, but since I did, I wish I would have crawled back to him long before now. We’re in this agonizing situation because of my selfishness and fear.” Thinking of all I gave up by choice—not because of anything he did—has turned my throat into a depressing desert. I snatch my glass of water off the table and drain half of it. “Anyway, I didn’t ask how long he planned to stay.”
“Does it matter? If you want a chance to get whatever you’re longing for—forgiveness, another shot with him, closure—you need to do whatever it takes to get it, or you’ll be alone for the rest of your life.”
“Geez. Don’t hold back, Kait,” I joke to counterbalance the impact that declaration had on my faltering system. “I don’t—”
Something outside catches my attention. “Is that…”
Kaitlyn’s eyes follow where I’m pointing. “A goat?”
The white goat with light brown spots and two tiny horns doesn’t appear fully grown—a teenager if there’s such a thing for goats—which is probably why it’s causing so much mischief. In between eating live Christmas greenery outside stores and restaurants, it’s jumping onto and off decorations and planter boxes like it owns the place.
“Wonder who he belongs to,” Kaitlyn says.
“There’s a tag on his ear. If they ever catch it …” Amusement takes over my brain as several older men emerge from buildings and fail at catching the spry little creature. “Someone can take him home.”
“I’d name him Spot,” Kaitlyn decides. “What do you think?”
“It suits.”
Ember Falls’ most lovable drunk hooks an arm under the goat’s neck. He lowers to the ground for a better grip, but Spot’s head squirts out with the motion, and he takes off across the street … right at Maddox.
“Holy flannel. Is that …”
“Yep.” The word oozes out with a satisfied exhale. No one fills out the humble fabric quite like Maddox.
Confident in save-the-day mode, he swings a coat over his broad shoulders, a few defined abs peeking out from under his red and blue, plaid shirt as his arms slip into the sleeves. Each step he takes toward the naughty animal is fluid, sturdy, and unmistakably male. The years he spent in the Army and on the force clearly prepared his body for action of any kind.
He’s the picture of strength and grace, and I wonder if that’s because the shadows of our past have been lifted off him in my absence. At the idea, grief courses through me with riptide force. I desperately want to repair our connection, whatever that might be now, but I won’t do it at his expense.
“Maybe Spot is a girl,” Kaitlyn muses, saving me from my spiraling thoughts without realizing it. Her attention never moves the scene unfolding across the street.
Spot squares off with Maddox, holding his stance, but not in preparation for a battle of speed and agility as he did with the others. It’s almost like he’s admiring the view, too.
I want to laugh at the spectacle, but I’m too captivated by the lanky boy I used to know showing off his man skills. My mouth waters at those muscular thighs dipping to scoop an arm under the goat’s belly. He straightens with ease, carrying Spot on his hip to his navy truck parked nearby.
I recognize the Red Sox sticker on the back and yearn for what I gave up once more. I haven’t been able to watch a game since we broke up. That was one of our things. We watched every broadcast we could together at his house or mine, even before we started dating. I miss how simple those days had been. How loved and safe I felt by his side.
A groan hums in Kaitlyn’s throat as Maddox leans over the open tailgate to secure Spot to the bed with a rope. “I’d let him tie me up any—” Guilty eyes coast to me, a half-smile telling me she’s only half sorry for her comment. “Oops. Got carried away there for a bit.”
“Go ahead. He’s not mine.”
She waves away the declaration. “Whatever your status may be in his life, he’s always going to be yours and vice versa. That’s the magic of soulmates. Anyone who tries to get between that is just wasting their time.”
I turn back to Maddox and watch him climb into the driver’s seat. He takes off slowly to not jostle Spot in the back. That’s Maddox for you. No matter how crispy his outer layer gets through life’s challenges, his heart will always be tender and sweet, like the most perfect, hot cinnamon roll.
◆◆◆
Maddox
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Jamie heaves me into a hug, his palm slapping hard on my back. Outside of Carmen, Jameson Blackwell has been my closest friend for as long as I can remember. We were classmates, baseball teammates, and brothers in arms all four years. “What are you doing here?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Because you’ve been MIA here since high school.”
“Whatever.” From the front porch of the small ranch house, I take in the rolling sea of white surrounding us for something else to talk about. “I’ve always loved this side of the farm.”
He steps out and closes the door to take in the view with me. “That right there.” He points toward the sunset over the horizon, reflecting off the snow below. “That’s why I built here.”
“It’s perfect.” I suck in the cool, clean air, so different from what I’m used to in Boston. No burning scents of exhaust, rotting trash, or day-old hotdogs. Although, that last one isn’t so bad, given that I grew up in baseball stadiums. It takes me back to the good ole days every time I pass a stand.
“It’s great to see you, man,” Jamie says, unzipping his coat. “Come in and let’s catch up.”
In his small living room, I sink into the brown leather couch. Just like Jamie, his house has plenty of personality with its masculine decorations, wood accents, rustic fireplace, and mementos of the things he holds dear—family, tradition, the farm, and his service.
“I’m surprised I caught you at the house.” I remember how much effort the farm requires from the summers I worked here, and with or without chores, Jamie hates to be idle.
“I was on my way out when I saw your truck in the driveway.”
“Anything I can help you with?”
He smiles. “It’s dinner time on the farm. You know what that means.”
“Great. I need to stop by the barn anyway.”
“My barn?”
I nod. “Found one of your goats in town.”
“No shit?” With a laugh, he leans back and props an arm on the back of the couch. “That little fucker gets out at least once a week, but he doesn’t usually go that far.”
“Might be time to upgrade your fencing.”
“Or breed him. He may be my new spirit animal.”
“New?” I ask, shaking my head. Only Jamie.
“It used to be the stallion that took over a year to break.”
“That’s more fitting. It took us two years to tame you.”
The surprise of Jamie’s unbridled laughter tips my amusement enough to join in. It’s been far too long since I’ve let that part of me off the leash.
“So, who do I owe a beer?” he asks when his amusement fades.
“What do you mean?”
“I want to know who’s responsible for getting you to grace us with your presence. That’s no small feat and they deserve a reward. My money’s on your sister.”
“If it were, she’s underage.”
He waves a hand as if I’d said something ridiculous. “And I bet you think she hasn’t sipped a single bit of alcohol at that big, fancy school of hers. She lives with your brother, remember.”
“I try not to think about it.”
When he asks again what drew me here, I tell him about Captain’s orders and my impulsive decision to return to the place that built me. Like a sad country song, I came back, hoping to reconnect with the person I’d been before disappointment, ache, and loneliness beat me down to a point I no longer recognized myself.
“You came to the right place, my man.”
“The jury’s still out on that.”
“Maybe, but we can make the most of it while you’re here and see what happens. Ready to get to work?” He slaps his thighs and rises off the couch with a laugh. “You can fill me in on what’s been going on since you disappeared after discharge.”
Sighing, I follow him out. “I didn’t disappear.” Even if I did, isn’t it old news? “Don’t make me regret bringing your ornery goat back.”
We make our way to my truck, and I navigate the twists and turns of the farm’s snow-packed roads like I’m a teenage farmhand again. Good to know I can remember something other than pain from that life-altering time.
◆◆◆
“Tell me about Boston,” Jamie asks between shoveling a pile of manure from the horse stall next to mine and dumping it into the wheelbarrow. “What’s the scene like there?”
I straighten to see him fully over the middle wall separating us. “The scene? How old are you?”
“Not as old as you, big guy.”
“We’re only six months apart, and I wouldn’t know about the scene .”
Ignoring his chore, he props his elbows on top of the wall and glares at me. “Are you telling me that you live in one of the most exciting cities in the country, and you haven’t been taking full advantage?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” There’s no relishing a place where the criminals know you by name, and you’ve turned into a workaholic, trying to forget how miserable you are.
“It’s the model all over again.”
Bumper, the black colt in my stall, stomps his hooves on the wooden floor, frustrated with us disrupting his peace. I give him a rub to make up for it. “The what?”
“The sexy surfer whose car broke down outside the base our last year. She wanted you something fierce, and what did you do?” He waits for me to answer.
“Nothing.”
“Exactly. Teddy was so pissed when you turned her down. He did all the work in the muggy California heat to get her car running again, and she couldn’t ignore you for one second to notice.”
With a shrug, I push my pitchfork through the soiled hay, wondering if I will be mucking the rest of the stalls by myself. “Wait.” I lean on the fork handle to face him, and his smug smile widens, knowing what I’m about to say. “Was he also pissed at you for sleeping with her days later?”
“More than my stallion when his supper’s late.” The massive animal neighs outside the barn as if in agreement.
“Good.”
Jamie moves into the next stall and digs in, cleaning the area in half the time it takes me. Guess I’m out of practice.
“So, why the solitary confinement in Boston?” he asks. “When we served together you were always ready for anything and everything—the crazier the better.”
“As you know, life’s a little different in the real world.”
He chuckles and grabs hold of the wheelbarrow handles to push it out, securing the door behind him. “Our time in the Army was real life.”
“Yes, but we were rarely alone there.”
“Ah. You wouldn’t be alone in Boston if you’d get out more.”
“You sound like Nana. Are you done?”
“With this barn? Yes. With forcing you out of your comfortable grumpy zone. No.” He beams and struts past me and Bumper.
Rubbing the colt’s neck when his snout snuggles against my hip, I lean down to kiss his head. “If it weren’t for you, I might regret coming here.”
Following Jamie out of the barn with my own full cart, I meet him by the wide-plank fence. His heavy hand drops onto my shoulder like he’s about to say something profound, and I brace for what might seep out of his gutter brain next.
“How about we saddle up and go for a ride? Like the old days.”
I pause, expecting a punchline that never emerges. Weird. “Is our sledding hill clear?” I ask, appreciating his restraint.
“Meticulously maintained.” A crooked grin glides into place. “Like the sexy snow bunnies I entertain up there.”
And there it is. “I’m sorry I asked.”
He winks before skimming his hand down my shoulder and slapping it one last time against my arm, the punctuation mark to his prank. Just like the old days.
“Disgusting.” My face revolts in response to the irregular proximity of smeared manure to my eyes and nose. Somehow the stench isn’t half as bad when it’s mingled in hay. “What was that for?”
“First of all, I can’t go riding with manure on my hands. Second, your boring existence needed something to … spice it up a little.”
“Horse shit is not spice.”
He sucks in a long breath through his nose, and it comes out in a white haze through his mouth. “It is for a cowboy.”
“Then you won’t mind joining me.”
“What?”
Before he can jump out of the way, my gloved hand dives into the steaming pile between us and smacks against his right pec.
As he realizes what I’d done to stain his clean, tan coat, annoyance paralyzes him. He glares at me with blank eyes before surveying the brown handprint. How did he not see that coming?
He picks out a piece of hay from the globs hanging on and flicks it into the breeze. “That’s just dirty.”
“No. It’s the spicy farm cologne you love so much.”
“Fine. I deserved that.”
“And plenty more for the trouble you started literally everywhere we went together over the last twenty years.”
“And look how dull your life has been without me.” He flashes that trademark grin again—the playboy identifier that won over the surfer and probably countless others since.
“That doesn’t work on me.”