Chapter 43
Beckett
June still appeared pale, her features washed out like bleached pine. While the women continued to speculate about what the
pages might contain in this manuscript one of the world’s great writers had kept tucked away, he saw her features grow increasingly
fatigued. Finally, he stepped in.
“It’s late and it’s been a long day for all of us. Why don’t I give you a ride back to the cabin?”
She glanced at her watch. “Oh. I hadn’t realized the time. I can walk. It’s not that far.”
“My truck is out front. I insist. Looks like we might be in for a rain shower, and you wouldn’t want the manuscript to get
wet.”
It was a ruthless play, since the rain, if it even fell, likely wouldn’t start for hours, but she acquiesced.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said to Loretta. “I had a truly lovely time.”
The older woman smiled warmly and wrapped June in a tight embrace that seemed to further overwhelm her.
“It was totally my pleasure, my dear. I am so happy to have found you. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world, to have
been given the priceless gift of a new granddaughter at my age.”
June closed her eyes and returned the embrace, her mouth wobbling a little before she drew away. Somehow, he had the impression
June had not received as many hugs as she deserved, especially in recent years.
“We’ll talk soon. When you’ve finished the book, maybe,” Loretta said.
“Definitely.”
“Let me grab the rest of your fruit salad.”
He carried the bowl for her while June carried the box and manuscript. He helped her into his pickup truck and drove to the
cabin quickly. Once there, he helped her out then grabbed the fruit bowl to take inside for her, grateful for any chance to
extend their time together.
“Are you going to be okay?”
She gave a rough-sounding laugh. “Eventually. It’s so much to take in, but I’ll be fine. Thank you for everything.”
“I haven’t done anything,” he protested.
“Not true. You’ve done more than you know. You believed in me when I thought Carson might have written another manuscript.
You helped me look for it.”
She hesitated then offered up that shaky smile. “I have to tell you, earlier tonight when you walked into Loretta’s kitchen
right as Ali was telling her about the DNA results, I wanted to fly into your arms and not let go. I felt an indescribable
comfort, knowing you were there in the midst of all the chaos. You have been a true friend to me, Beck, and I’m so grateful.”
What would she say if he told her he wanted to be far more than friends with her?
“You can use my arms any time you want,” he said.
She gave a shaky laugh. “Be careful when you make offers like that or you might have distraught women running to you at all
hours of the day and night.”
He wouldn’t mind, as long as she was the distraught woman in question, though he would rather she wanted to run into his arms
for other reasons.
He was falling for Juniper Connelly.
It was a realization that should have shocked him but somehow it only seemed inevitable.
“I’m here now,” he said, holding his arms open.
She hesitated only for an instant before she wrapped her arms around him with a deep, heartfelt sigh.
She felt right here, somehow. It shouldn’t make sense, he knew, but she felt as if she belonged in his arms.
He held her for a long time, simply offering his strength and comfort. Later, he wasn’t sure if she moved first or if he did,
but somehow his mouth was on hers.
She tasted of strawberries and lemons, sweet and tart at the same time—a complex mix that was exactly her.
She returned the kiss, her arms tightening around him, and tenderness flooded through him. She had so much love inside her,
this woman he had once been blind enough to think was cool and remote.
They kissed for a long time there in the living area of her father’s writing cabin. It was slow, almost achingly gentle. He
wanted her, more than he had wanted anything in a long time, but right then he would have been content to pull her onto his
lap on the long sofa and kiss her all night long.
Oh, yes. He was definitely falling in love with her.
“We have to figure out a way to make this work after you return to Seattle,” he murmured.
It was exactly the wrong thing to say. She froze, her body taut suddenly, then she stepped away.
Her mouth looked soft from his kisses, her eyes huge in her slender face as she gazed at him.
“No. No, we don’t.”
“Does that mean you’re staying here?”
She gave an almost violent shake of her head. “You know this can’t work, Beck. I... I care about you, but I have to go
back. My life is there. My work.”
He wanted to argue with her, to expound on all the ways couples managed to make the long-distance thing work. He could tell
by looking at her sudden panicked expression that there was no point. Not right now.
She wasn’t concerned about their proximity. She was worried about her own vulnerability to him. She didn’t want to care about him, and no amount of arguing on his point could make that right.
“I’ve hidden out here too long, licking my wounds. I need to get back to my real life. It’s time. Past time.”
He thought of a hundred things he could say, but nothing felt right.
“I hope you’ll give us a chance to say goodbye to you before you leave,” he finally said, his voice low.
“I will. I’m not going to steal away in the night, I promise.”
“My arms are always open, June. No strings. Next time I’ll try not to ruin things by kissing you again.”
“Thank you,” she said. He wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for his offer of comfort and support or for his assurances that
he wouldn’t kiss her again.
“Can I offer some advice? Don’t stay up all night reading Carson’s book. You’ve already had a long day. You will have a better
perspective if you read it tomorrow, when your brain and your heart aren’t so tired.”
She considered his words and nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“Good night.”
Despite his assurance, he couldn’t resist giving her one more soft kiss at the door before he slipped outside and returned
to his pickup truck.
As he drove to his place and let Hank out one more time to do his business, Beck wanted to punch something.
Mostly himself.
How could he have made the colossal mistake of falling for Juniper Connelly?
For five years, he had told himself he was perfectly fine on his own. After Soledad’s death, he had vowed he would never fall
in love again. Love made a man far too weak.
He should be relieved June had made it abundantly clear she was ready to walk away and not look back.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to avoid seeing her. Her sister and her grandmother were here on The Painted Sky Ranch. He was a good friend of the family’s and also one of the executors of her father’s literary trust. He would have to interact with her in the future. His best choice now was to do everything he could to get over her.
For his own sake, a little distance wouldn’t be a bad idea, he decided. A few days earlier, he had a phone call from one of
his contacts in Montana, letting him know about a new supply of heavily burled western larch in a grove owned by a private
landowner who needed to cut it.
He had planned to drive up the following week to check it out, but maybe he would rush his plans and go for a few days.
That just might give him time to rebuild his defenses and figure out how he would make a life without her.