Chapter Eighteen
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GWYNN PUNTED little clods of snow with each step she took toward Plane & Knotty Carpentry. Her heart bobbed in her chest, buoyed by the Davisons’ earlier words of support and encouragement when she’d asked for their forgiveness.
Would Cash be as quick to forgive her today? He’d offered her forgiveness yesterday in the truck, but by the time he’d left her on the Davisons’ walkway, he’d again become angry and hurt.
Gwynn passed Bentley Park, where preparations had begun in the open field for tomorrow’s Christmas Jam. She tightened the scarf covering her nose and mouth, lowered the brim of her newsboy cap, and peeked askance at the activities.
Dozens of people shoveled snow, assembled kiosks and tents, arranged food trucks, and set up the live band platform beside the gazebo. Along with the familiar sights came an array of childhood memories, as if yesterday’s admission of her identity had opened the door to an overstuffed closet and everything tumbled out.
There were those rare afternoons playing on the jungle gym or joining a game of Capture the Flag to avoid the stress at home. Stolen moments admiring the craft booths at the farmer’s market. Finding an Easter egg hidden in an evergreen tree. Conquering the midnight Halloween corn maze. Delighting in a million twinkling lights at the Christmas Jamboree that turned the park into a winter wonderland. Relishing a heady kiss and whispering impractical promises as a teenager in love.
A small smile lifted her lips. Each memory involved Cash Cooper and his family to some degree. His parents had anchored her growing up, guiding and encouraging her when her own parents couldn’t—or wouldn’t. Over the years, Cash had taken on the role of encourager and champion. By the time he became a senior in high school and she a sophomore, he’d begun talking about getting married after graduation, to protect and provide for her.
She’d hungered for it like her artistic side hungered for extravagant paints, yet doubts badgered her. What if Cash came to regret his vow to love, honor, and cherish her, like her own father had come to regret his wife and kids? What if she ended up disappointing Cash, as she’d disappointed Alex?
“You’re a worthless piece of trash that will amount to nothin ’.”
Her shoulders hunched against her father’s harsh words. She hadn’t wanted to risk bringing Cash to that end—a man disgruntled by the path he walked, by choosing a wife incapable of helping him see his dreams to fruition. Better to leave Cash despising her from a shallow hurt early on, she had reasoned, than from a deeper wound years into a relationship.
An icy breeze whipped through her jeans, and Gwynn stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. “It was messed up. I was messed up. I don’t deserve his forgiveness, then or now.”
Yet she still wanted it.
When she entered the Plane & Knotty barn a few minutes later, Cash appeared from the back room, tugging on his jacket. Tessa stood near the entrance, the grin on her lips turning cautious when she saw Gwynn. “Hello, again.”
Cautious, not jealous. Cash must not have told Tessa the truth about Gwynn’s identity. Growing up, they had been each other’s nemesis. She’d envied Tessa’s beauty and fashion sense, and Tessa had resented Hadley’s close friendship—and later relationship—with Cash.
Time hadn’t altered Tessa’s long-held crush, but would time eventually alter Cash’s feelings in Tessa’s favor?
“What do you want, Gwynn?” Cash yanked on a pair of gloves. “I thought you were supposed to be on a plane. Or did you have a change of heart?”
Gwynn lowered her scarf. “Every flight is full, from yesterday’s stranded passengers to today’s incoming passengers.”
“So, no change of heart then.”
She swallowed at the cold tone in his voice. “I have obligations in Boston. Commitments. My boss has—” She glanced at Tessa, who didn’t need to know Irene had almost fired Gwynn over the phone because she couldn’t make it to the gala. “Anyway, I’m now staying until Monday.” She lifted her chin, shoving aside thoughts of her job. “And I was hoping we could talk.”
Cash studied his gloves. “I’ve said everything I need to. Unless you want to buy a table or a dresser, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Tessa and I are on our way to lunch, and Gramps is already at Bentley Park setting up for the Christmas Jam.”
Tessa gave Gwynn a pitying glance and took Cash’s arm as he motioned Gwynn back outside onto the sidewalk. He locked the door behind them and walked away, Tessa at his side.
Gwynn stared at his retreating back, her insides crumpling like a wadded piece of sketch paper. Her opportunity to make amends faded with each second, but did it have to happen with Tessa watching?
For goodness’ sake, swallow your pride, she admonished herself. The longer you take, the louder you’ll have to yell.
“I’m sorry,” she called out, her voice echoing off the buildings.
Cash slowed, and Tessa frowned up at him.
“You were right,” Gwynn continued, taking a hesitant step forward. “I have been acting selfishly. And what I said yesterday, and how I said it, was wrong and insensitive, and I’m so sorry.”
Cash had halted while she talked, and now he turned to face her.
Gwynn wrung her mittened hands. “Please forgive me.”
Tessa tugged at his arm. “Cash, c’mon.”
“Just a minute.” He slipped from her hold and trudged back through the snow to Gwynn. “You mean that?”
She nodded.
He studied her, and her stomach skittered under the visceral impact in those clear eyes, but she held his gaze. “Thank you,” he said at last, his voice thick. “I forgive you.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and she gave a small smile.
The harsh lines around his eyes and mouth softened. “What am I supposed to make of you? Once dead, now alive.” He raised his hand—
“Ca-ash,” Tessa called.
His brow puckered and he pulled back. “How about I swing by the Davisons’ later, and we can talk, okay?”
Gwynn nodded again.
He rejoined Tessa, and they continued toward one of the eateries on Broadway, a flawless picture of self-employed entrepreneur and respected pastor’s daughter.
Hugging her arms to her chest, Gwynn crossed the street and headed for the Davisons’ house. She glanced back once at the couple, her lips flattening. She had no claim on Cash—she’d made her decision about their relationship long ago, and she would stand by it today. That didn’t mean she had to like his choice of girlfriend.
Not that Tessa had been anything but nice to Gwynn.
She scowled.
A particular church steeple caught her eye then, rising above the rooftops on the next street over. Her steps wavered, and she changed course in that direction. After the deluge of memories she’d already let ambush her this morning, what were a few more?
Moments later, she stood before her parents’ headstones. She brushed the snow from the engraved words. Loving father. Loving mother.
The headstones lied, but she hadn’t expected the engraver to carve the truth: Alex Jacobs, Reluctant dad, Fraudulent cattle rancher, Questionable source of income . Or: Vivian Jacobs, Neglectful mom, Functioning alcoholic, Town strumpet.
Would she have been able to rise above those origins, had the Lord not whisked her across the country? Once again, she thanked Him for the safe haven she’d found with Poppa Jeb and Mama Edith.
Gwynn scanned the names on the nearby headstones. And what of Cash’s parents? She wouldn’t have recognized the unconditional love in the Jacobs had the Coopers not offered it first. Were they buried in this graveyard too?
Mrs. Cooper had taught her the secret to making a tasty pie crust. Mr. Cooper had taught her how to shoot a firearm. He’d even nicknamed her Hadley ‘Oakley’ after she’d shown natural talent and had encouraged her to practice at the shooting range to hone her skills. She’d done so … until that night .
Her vision blurred. Though she didn’t remember the details, Gwynn knew she’d failed Mr. Cooper—and Mrs. Cooper, since she’d died a few weeks later from a broken heart.
An ache ballooned inside Gwynn’s chest, and she dropped to her knees in the snow.
How could Cash have forgiven her when she’d never be able to forgive herself?