Chapter Twenty-Seven
I nestled into my pillows, ready to finally dig into the manuscript.
I’d tried while Miles was helping Chloe, but the two of them were more compelling than his book, and that was saying something.
From the snippets I had gotten in, I knew it was going to be good, but watching Miles help Chloe had a profound effect on me.
Not only did I wish for someone like that for her, but it made me realize Henry was in good hands.
Miles had the makings of a great father.
He was patient but he knew when to push, like when Chloe just wanted him to tell her how and why Henry VI came to be the king of England and France.
He nudged her to look it up, telling her she would retain the information better if she read it for herself.
He even had her make notes to further commit it to memory.
I smiled when I thought of the great introductory line they came up with together.
Henry VI, well intentioned fool or whimpering ninny?
Before Chloe went to bed, she reiterated some of the same sentiments she had so boldly declared to Miles, but this time she asked me directly if I liked him.
I told her I did like him, that he was a good friend to us.
She wrinkled her brow at the word friend.
She expressed herself how much she liked him and liked living here.
I hadn’t counted on that. I mean, I knew she would like to live back in Carrington Cove, but I didn’t expect either of us to feel so comfortable basically living with Miles and Henry.
Yet while that was true, I had also never been more uncomfortable.
At least with myself, that was. I didn’t know who or what I should be anymore.
I didn’t want to be that lonely woman my daughter saw.
But how did I change that without Miles? Why couldn’t it be Miles?
Ugh. I sank farther into my pillows. I couldn’t think like that. I needed to read. Do my job and read his book. Right. Job. This was my job. I needed this job.
I opened the folder to read his glorious words only to have my phone ring. It was a Texas number. One I didn’t recognize, but it was the same area code as Leland’s number, so I decided to answer even though it was late.
“Hello?”
It was quiet on the other end, so I was about to hang up, but then I heard a quiet voice with a hint of a drawl. Not Shelby Southern drawl, but definitely a bit of twang to her tone. “Is this Aspen?”
“Who’s asking?” I kind of already knew and my defenses were up.
“This is Faith. I’m . . . well . . . I suppose I’m Leland’s wife.”
Once upon a time I supposed myself the same thing. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“You are probably wondering why I’m calling.”
Yes. Yes, I was.
“I feel like I owe you an apology.”
I wasn’t expecting that. “Why?”
She was sniffling on the other end. “When I met Leland at the beginning of last year, I thought he was everything I’d ever wished for. Handsome, charming, loyal.”
I coughed. Loyal was a laughable word in relation to him.
“I know,” she commented on my less than tactful interruption. “I used to think you were an awful person, keeping his daughter away from him and kicking him out just because he talked to an ex-girlfriend.”
I held back my derisive laugh. “Is that what he told you?”
“Yes, and I believed him for a while. Then I got pregnant and we got married.”
I knew how this story went.
“Things were good until Ruby, that’s my baby,” she sniffled, “was a few months old. He couldn’t keep a job, which meant I had to go back to work even though he promised me he would take care of us.
I left a really good job as an account manager for a tech firm here in Austin.
Thankfully, they let me come back. But when I would come home at night, I’d find that Ruby had practically spent all day in her swing.
He wasn’t feeding her and changing her like he should.
Then . . .” she choked, “I found some messages on his phone from—”
“Kylie,” I interrupted.
“Do you know her?” Her voice hitched.
“We all went to high school together. I hate to tell you this, but . . . I saw them together.” She needed to know the truth for her sake and her daughter’s. My daughter’s sister. What a weird thought that was.
“I figured,” she cried. “I’m so sorry I ever belittled you and forced Leland to get back in contact with you. I thought I was doing a good thing for your daughter. I wanted my baby to know her.”
I could hardly blame her. I knew the kind of lies Leland was capable of telling. “Please don’t apologize, you had no idea.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I did, deep down. My daddy warned me about smooth talking men, but I didn’t listen.”
“I’ve been there. I still beat myself up over him. I’m sorry for the pain you are going through.”
“He talks a good talk for a while, doesn’t he?”
I pulled my blanket up and snuggled under it. “That’s all he is.”
“Well, I’m done talking to him,” her tears seemed to cease. “Unless it’s through my lawyer. Unfortunately, my lawyer can’t seem to get ahold of him; he’s disconnected his phone.”
That was news to me.
“I hate to ask, but do you know how I can find him?” she asked.
“Have you tried Mike’s Auto Body shop in Edenvale, Colorado? He said he was working there, but I haven’t seen him in over a week when I told him he had to be all in our all out. Sounds like he made his choice.” How was I going to tell my daughter? I hated him even more. Coward.
“We are all better off without him,” she had some fire to her. I liked it.
“I agree.”
“I’m sorry for calling so late. I just needed to clear my conscience. I’m sorry I judged you without knowing your side of the story. My own story now.”
“I hope your story has a happy ending.”
“It will because it ends with Ruby.”
“You know, my daughter would love to meet her sister.”
She thought for a second. “I’d like that. I’ll text you a few pictures you can show her in the meantime.”
“Chloe will be tickled. I wish you all the best. If you ever want to talk, I’d be happy to listen.”
“Thank you, Aspen. I might take you up on that. I’ll be in touch.”
I stared down at my phone. My life was full of twists and turns lately.
While I was contemplating all the unexpected events in my life, a little ginger baby popped up on my phone.
Ruby looked all of six months old and was as cute as a button.
She and Chloe had the same mouth and chin.
I hoped with all my heart the sweet smiley girl would never feel the hurt my own little girl had felt and would continue to feel once I told her that her dad had once again disappeared.
At least I assumed he had. I should probably call that sleaze ball Mike myself to find out.
That could wait until tomorrow. For now, I was going to be carried away into the world Miles had created. It only took a second for me to be hooked.
It started with Isabella trying to escape from Dexter, who Miles led you to believe at the beginning wasn’t a good guy, except he tries to keep Isabella comfortable and he never touches her.
But she’s being held against her will, so that didn’t engender any warm and fuzzy feelings between them.
In fact, the insults she lobbed at him were fantastic, like, You pikey pillock.
Why did everything sound better in a British accent?
Dexter, for his part, took them all in stride and never retaliated, not even when she told him his mother must have been a slag. Yikes.
The only time Dexter exerted any force was when he came in to bring her food and she used her feminine charm on him.
Poor Dexter was stupid enough to believe it might be real.
Wishful thinking on his part. Except when Isabella did get close to him, she felt a little something and it startled her.
I could relate to her. She kneed him in the groin anyway and ran away.
Dexter recovered quickly enough to catch her.
That’s when he started sleeping in her room to make sure she didn’t escape.
And that was when things started to get interesting.
Isabella meant to lure him into believing she was interested in him to gain his trust, but the more she got to know him, the more she can’t help but like him.
I read their exchanges as they talked late into every night, with him on the floor and her on the bed, asking all sorts of questions from his family to how he felt about politics.
I began to see how much of Miles was in Dexter.
Each man possessed a calm reassurance about himself and a deep understanding of people and situations. It made them both wise.
Poor Isabella thought she was getting the upper hand in all of this, but it didn’t take her long to realize she was losing ground.
She began looking forward to their nights spent talking and sometimes playing Stop the Bus, a card game she used to play with her father.
Dexter began using these moments to gain her trust, to start telling her the truth of her situation.
It was enough that when they were discovered by two men clad in black who claimed to be there to rescue Isabella, she chose to flee with Dexter after some kick-butt fight scenes.
Dexter was kind of yummy. I wondered if Miles knew some martial arts. I decided not to ask. I didn’t need more reasons to be attracted to my boss. He probably had defined abs like Dexter too. Nope. Not thinking about it. Yes, I was totally thinking about it. And that kiss.
Focus on the book.
Isabella and Dexter fled to France. They almost kind of had a moment there.
Isabella was furious with him because she felt like he was hiding something from her.
She goes to slap him, but he grabs her hand before she can make contact.
The unspoken words and emotion between them were totally hot.
You thought he was going to kiss her, and so did she.
She found herself yearning for it and she hated herself for it.
Oh, Isabella, I totally understand you girl.
While in Paris, Isabella discovered a clue in her father’s journal that led them to Colorado.
It had to do with a town legend involving a tree where lovers carved their names.
It was said any pair to carve their name into the Aspen tree would only be parted by death.
I loved that he used an Aspen tree. That was where they began to see how intertwined their lives were.
Dexter’s mother’s name and Isabella’s father’s name were carved together into the tree long before either of them was born, but Isabella’s father’s name was crossed out.
At first, I was grossed out thinking that they might be siblings, but Dexter was ten years older than Isabella, and his mother died before Isabella was born. But their parents were lovers. Interesting. And who crossed out the father’s name and why?
While they tried to figure out who might have crossed out Isabella’s father’s name, Isabella and Dexter started dancing on the edge of their feelings.
Miles made the cabin they were staying in at the Ranch one room, not just one bedroom.
A large, single room with only a bathroom for any privacy.
Inch by inch, the sexual tension between them grew.
Little touches here and there. But more than that, there was an emotional connection.
Isabella began to let down her guard. She owned how afraid she was that her life had been a lie.
But on the flipside, she had this desperate hope her father was innocent.
More than that, she longed to be able to trust someone, but she didn’t know how.
I started tearing up when she wrote in her journal how broken she felt.
These last few days, I’ve woken up before the light of morning to see Dexter inches from me, his breaths steady and deep as he slumbers by my side.
He has been true to his word and not once touched me.
At least, not physically. Emotionally, he pricks me, making me feel as if I’m bleeding drops of self-doubt.
How can I truly trust him if I don’t even trust myself?
I ache to reach out and touch his bare skin, to feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath my hand.
To have his strong arms enfold me and keep me as emotionally safe as he has kept me from physical harm. Is that even possible?
I wiped my tears. It was like reading an autobiography, except I wasn’t on the run with a handsome yet mysterious man who knew everything about me.
But I was working for one who emotionally and physically touched me.
Who wrote words that came straight out of a chapter of my heart.
How did he do that? Did it mean anything?