7. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
As soon as I heard him drive off, I grabbed my keys. I didn’t care that it was late. I was going to the hospital. Aunt Lu was having her procedure. I was going back to Atlanta. Back to being Elle. Back to where no one cared that my last name was Eaton.
And most importantly—I was getting away from Brady Jackson.
But when I stepped outside, I realized my car was still parked at the dang bank.
Damn that Brady Jackson.
I went back inside, swapped my shoes for something comfortable, grabbed an old jacket, and started walking.
It was a couple of miles. I didn’t care. I needed the air. I needed the distance.
And I didn’t have anyone to call in this town except Doris—and I wasn’t about to bother her.
I’d cut off every tie except Aunt Lu. Maybe that hadn’t been the smartest choice.
With each step, my anger grew louder.
How could he accuse me of cheating? I could guess who told him—but how could he believe her?
It was high school. A lifetime ago. It shouldn’t matter after all this time. But Aunt Lu was right. I never really got over him.
I could still see him in those hallways—walking hand-in-hand with Amber Capshaw like I’d never existed.
I did get my revenge. Well . . . sort of.
The last semester was brutal. The Eaton-Jackson feud was at full tilt. I could’ve graduated early, but I stayed—fought to be valedictorian.
When prom came and I was nominated for queen alongside Amber and another girl on Team Jackson, everyone expected me to bow out.
Even Aunt Lu. She reminded me daily about rule two.
But I never told her my plan. I only promised I wouldn’t bring home the crown.
Aunt Lu took me to Atlanta. We bought the most stunning dress I’d ever worn—cream silk, floor length, gold beading across an empire waist. It made me feel like a queen.
I went without a date. I had no intention of staying long.
Halfway through the dance, Principal Jerger stepped up to announce the court.
Brady’s name was no surprise. Everyone expected him to be prom king. And no one was shocked when my name was called for prom queen. It made sense. The two Jackson girls split the vote.
The gasp that swept through the gym was almost theatrical when everyone realized what that meant. But it was Amber’s face I zeroed in on—stunned, slapped by surprise.
Brady’s reaction was the one that shook me.
It was the first time he had really looked at me in months, and he looked almost happy. Proud even.
He half-smiled at me.
I didn’t return it.
Instead, I walked up to Principal Jerger, told her I couldn’t accept the crown, and exited the stage with my head high and heart heavy.
Amber was made queen by default. But she would always know that she’d lost to me.
That night I went straight home, curled up beside Aunt Lu, and cried until I couldn’t anymore. She told me it wasn’t the most Christian thing I’d ever done. But I don’t think she’d ever been prouder.
My little prom coup became a local legend, whispered about for the rest of the school year.
Friends later told me that after I walked out, Brady looked like he was going to follow—but Amber latched onto his arm like it was a lifeline. The king and queen dance was skipped entirely in the confusion.
I wasn’t proud of that. Well—maybe a little.
I’d wanted the Jacksons to see that they hadn’t beaten me. That I was worthy of a crown but didn’t need one.
A few weeks later, I was named valedictorian. A week after that, I left Kaysville behind and started summer term at Auburn.
At first, I stayed in touch with friends. But every call somehow circled back to Brady. Where he was, what he was doing, what Amber had posted.
I don’t know why they thought I wanted to know. I didn’t. It only made my heart ache. Brady wasn’t just a high school crush. I’d loved him. And I’d never really stopped.
I made good time to my car. I didn’t know if I had cooled off any, though.
I was still reeling—still angry that after all these years, he’d thought I’d been unfaithful. And now, after everything, he wanted another chance?
After years of watching him and Amber on TV, in magazines, in highlight reels that felt like tiny heartbreaks? No, thank you.
It didn’t matter how much he claimed things had changed. His parents would never welcome me with open arms. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did everything in their power to keep us apart eternally.
And I couldn’t break Aunt Lu’s heart again. No matter how much I still loved Brady Jackson.
Even though I made good time to my car, I realized it was too late to visit Aunt Lu. I’d stop by first thing in the morning, before church. Though, given my mood, church might be optional. I didn’t want to see Brady, his family, or most of Kaysville. Except Caroline. I’d see her in a heartbeat.
The reminder nudged me—I needed to call my office. I’d have them ship some books and dolls right away.
When I got home, my cell phone rang. It was a local number. Odd.
I answered without thinking. “Hello.”
“Ellie, it’s Brady.”
The fool didn’t need to tell me. I knew his voice better than my own.
“How did you get my number?”
“It was on the paperwork you signed.”
“So this is bank business?”
“Well . . . no.”
“Isn’t it illegal to use my information for personal reasons?”
“Oh, come on, Ellie. Why do you have to be like that? I just realized I left you at home without your car.”
“It’s fine. I walked to the bank and got it.”
“This late? Alone? And in the cold?”
“Maybe you didn’t notice, but I’m a big girl now. I can take care of myself.”
“Believe me, I’ve noticed.”
“Well, then. Goodbye.”
“Wait, Ellie.”
“What now?”
“Can we please talk?”
“There’s nothing left to say.”
“Okay. But if you think I’m gonna let you walk out of my life again without a fight, then you’ve got another think coming. So saddle up, Ella Lu Eaton.”
“Brady!”
“Goodnight, Ellie.” He hung up.
I stared at the phone like it owed me an apology. He was on my ever-loving last nerve tonight.
“You’ve got another think coming, Brady Jackson,” I muttered into the quiet.
“And for the record, I didn’t walk out. You pushed me.” Why I said that out loud, I had no idea. He couldn’t hear me.
I stomped upstairs and took the hottest bath imaginable.
As I soaked, I tried—really tried—not to think about that infuriating, sweet-talking cowboy. Who did he think he was, telling me to saddle up?
Well, hold on to your hat, Jackson. This rodeo’s not yours to win.
I didn’t care how charming or devastatingly gorgeous he was. I wasn’t fifteen anymore. And I wasn’t about to fall for him again.
I tossed and turned all night. Still undecided about church, I reached for the dress Brady liked—just in case the next morning.
I didn’t want to upset Aunt Lu by showing up underdressed for the Sabbath. She always said, “If you can’t dress up for God, then who can you dress up for?”
I took extra time on my hair, curling it and pulling it into a soft upsweep. Maybe I wanted to remind Brady what he’d lost. Though let’s be honest—he’d had Miss Alabama. I was just the girl who could properly articulate why I’m proud to be an American.
Not exactly holy thoughts for a Sunday morning. Probably a sign I belonged in church more than I wanted to admit. Brady wasn’t the only one who needed to repent. At least I wasn’t a liar. Except at the hospital. But that was for a good cause.
I still couldn’t believe he believed those things about me. Hadn’t he known how much I loved him? I wasn’t sure I’d looked at another boy throughout our entire childhood. Even now, no one quite measured up.
I made it to the hospital in no time—one of the perks of being back in Alabama. Atlanta traffic didn’t know how to quit, even on Sundays.
Aunt Lu was already awake. No surprise. She thrived on early mornings.
“Ella Lu, what are you doing here so early? You’re going to miss church.”
“I need to talk to you.”
She instantly stilled. “What’s wrong?”
I sat next to her and laid my head in her lap, like I used to as a child. Her fingers brushed through my hair—careful, like she didn’t want to ruin my work. I didn’t care if she did.
I told her everything. The day with Brady and Caroline. The phone call. His promise to fight for me.
And then I cried.
I expected a full-throated scolding about that Jackson boy. But she didn’t say anything. Her silence scared me more than anything else.
I lifted my head. She looked somber, her hand soft on my cheek.
“Aunt Lu, please have the angioplasty. I love being with you, but I need to get back to Atlanta. Coming back here was a mistake. And I’m worried sick about you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’re the only person who’s ever really loved me.”
She blinked hard. Tears shimmered in her eyes. A rarity.
“My sweet girl,” she whispered. “I think you’re loved more than you know—or want to admit.”
“What does that mean?”
She didn’t answer. Of course she didn’t.
“I have a bargain,” she said instead.
“Okay . . . ”
“I’ll schedule my procedure for tomorrow—if you agree to stay through the holiday season.”
I blinked. “What kind of bargain is that? I feel like this is a conspiracy.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Ella Lu.”
“Why do you want me to stay?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Want to let me in on those?”
“Not at this time.” She smiled.
I sat up. “You’re not playing fair.”
“There’s nothing fair about life, baby girl.”
I exhaled, resigned. “Fine. I agree.”
Aunt Lu clapped her hands like she’d just sealed a business deal. “Now that that’s settled, it’s time for you to get to church.”
She handed me her cosmetic bag. “Hurry and fix your makeup, sugar. You’re going to be late.”
“I don’t want to go to church,” I muttered, sounding about ten.
“Nonsense. You hold your head high and show them what being an Eaton is all about.”
I fixed my tear-stained cheeks, retouched my eye makeup, and reapplied my lipstick. Then turned back to her, silently asking for approval.
She smiled with quiet pride. “You’re radiant, as always. But remember—you’re more than a beautiful face, Ella Lu.”
I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back after church to make sure that procedure’s been scheduled.”
She gave me that sly grin that never failed to stir trouble or truth.
And I had a feeling we were in for both.