Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
HARRY
T he wire burns my palms. I can tell by the blisters and the dank stench of seared flesh. My hands are numb. My mind has my heart all cut up. Every second, new and agonizing thoughts fill my head. Some are what-ifs . Some are the dreams and hopes that, after yesterday, died along with my mother.
The moon is my only light, the soft sounds of lowing cattle in the field behind the homestead letting me know I’m not dreaming. This is the brutal reality that found me less than twenty-four hours ago. The grief sears through me.
“Harry?”
The lilt of her voice tangles through my dulled senses.
I tug at the wire. It flings from its hold. Another strand cut and loose. I haul on it with my body weight as if it’s responsible for every rotten thing in my life.
“Harrison Rawlins, you are gonna hurt yourself...” The voice is soft and carries on the night’s tempered breeze. Grass crunches behind me. Something soft and warm lands on my shoulder.
The wire falls from my hands.
An elegant shape wraps around me from behind.
Louisa.
“What are you doin’ out here?” Louisa says softly.
A stone lodges in my throat so tight it burns.
Her head presses against my back, her warm breath washing over my spine. My hands hang by my side as tears burn down my cheeks. They quickly disappear in the constant breeze. My tortured soul simply offers up more, drenching my cheeks and stubbled jaw.
Louisa hasn’t left my side since they took Ma away. I can see her heart breaking alongside my own. It’s written all over her face. But I can’t find it in me to comfort her. As if, if I do, that means this is real. I’m already drowning, gasping for air. I don’t want to take Lou down with me.
My ship is sinking.
It’s a sure thing.
A wobbly sigh brushes my back before her arms slip away. She moves to stand in front of me. I force myself to meet her gaze. Her chin wobbles, but her hands cup my face.
“Come back to bed, Harry.”
I let my focus drift to the mangled fence. The wires I cut and tried to manhandle from their sagging posts.
“I can’t,” I finally breathe.
She means the big, empty bed I sleep in while she lies on the sofa.
Yeah, no thanks. Hard pass. “You should go. You have work in the morning.”
Her brows lower and her mouth falls to a thin line. “I am not leavin’ you, you hear? Not now, not ever. Most certainly not for a shift at the diner.”
Her words are fierce, as if she fought long and hard to gain this position and isn’t budging.
“Suit yourself. I need to finish this.”
“Then I’m helpin’.” She glances at the dilapidated fence.
In one of my old work shirts for a nightie, her bare legs are awash with goosebumps. Her long blonde hair is mussed and hanging around her shoulders.
“Go back to the house, Louisa.”
She picks up the pliers and closes them around the top wire, just behind the point it’s secured to. She tugs at an angle, and it slips back and through.
“Louisa...”
“I ain’t leavin’. If this fence is what you need to fix, then we fix it.”
A shiver racks her body, but she sets her jaw and stands a little taller.
“Dammit, woman. Go back inside. I ain’t askin’.”
“Neither am I,” she bites out, stepping into my space.
After a moment of the world’s most ridiculous standoff, in the middle of a field in the center of nowhere, only hours before sunrise, I look down to the only woman who’s ever held my heart captive. Now she is standing at my side, fighting for me in my darkest hour, my lowest point.
And I couldn’t love her more.
“If you say so, Captain.” I pluck the pliers from her hand and fold her into my chest.
The tool falls to the ground when she says, “I do, Harry. I do.”
* * *
Coffee sits in the mug between my hands. I sit in the chair at the head of the table while Louisa flips pancakes. I don’t feel like eatin’. She insists I must eat. So, blueberry pancakes, my favorite since I was five, are sizzling away in the pan.
The sun is still rising over the mountains when a pile of pancakes appears in front of me. Lou drops into the seat at my left side and dishes up a hearty serving I’m sure would feed an entire corps of Marines. I ain’t complaining. This beats her not bein’ here. Beats doin’ this thing alone.
“Here, syrup.” Louisa leans over, passing me the glass bottle of maple syrup.
My hand folds over hers, halting her movement as I pin her with my gaze. I want her to know how much her being here means to me. How much I wish this could be our normal.
Our life.
“Thanks, darlin’,” I manage, my voice rough from last night.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She offers me a soft smile before returning to her plate. She looks tired. My old work shirt is still the only thing covering her body besides panties.
As if reading my wandering eyes, she straightens.
“I’ll go get changed.” She moves to stand.
I cover her hand with mine for the second time. “Don’t.”
“Harry...” she pleads breathlessly.
“I need you to be you right now, Lou. Not worryin’ about what’s the done thing. Or how things will turn out tomorrow or next week or even twelve months from now.”
She chews her bottom lip, dropping her focus to her plate.
I know that look.
There’s something she’s not tellin’ me. And I don’t know if I’ve got the heart to hear her out today.
To my surprise, she simply sits down and takes a bite of her breakfast. I do the same, not tasting a mouthful, even though I am desperate for some sort of distraction from the only other sensation in my soul—grief.
“I meant what I said earlier,” Louisa says between mouthfuls.
“Which part?” I bite the portion from my fork.
“I’m staying.”
I freeze mid-chew.
She looks back to her food, cutting another morsel of fluffy pancake before stabbing it with her fork.
I swallow hard. If she is stayin’ because of what happened with Ma?—
“I need to tell you something. But I’m nervous, and I don’t know if it’ll pan out?”
I set my cutlery down on the plate.
Now she has my attention. “Well?”
Her expression falls, and my own softens.
“I have—” She shifts on her seat and glances to the ceiling. “I made an offer on the restaurant.”
I lean back in the chair.
Now that I didn’t see comin’.
I stare at her. Louisa’s been hot and cold with this old town since the day she blew back in. Almost as much with the folk who live here. And with me, well, it was touch and go for a while. But the restaurant, that’s a huge commitment.
She would be stuck here.
“Say something, Harry.” Her hands are tight around her cutlery, and I swear she’s holdin’ her breath.
“You mean, Mama’s Place? In Lewistown?”
She huffs a strained laugh. “Yes, one and the same.”
I’m shocked in the best way possible. A jumble of words tumbles up my throat. None are good enough. So, I simply say, “Come here.”
A heartbeat later, Louisa May is on my lap. I can’t handle the way she is lookin’ at me right now. Hope tangles with something like worry in those pretty green eyes. “I don’t know the first thing about business, so I’m kind of hoping you’d help me out there.”
“You want my help to run the restaurant? When do you take over?”
She tells me of the conversation she had with the Mancinis, and I take in every word. Pride swells. Only to be overshadowed by the overwhelming realization that Louisa is stayin’.
For good.
Life is ironic. I lose one great woman in my life, the one who stood by me for the last twenty-eight years. Now I have a shot at spendin’ the rest of my days with the only person to ever hold my heart indefinitely.
Absolutely and completely.
“It feels like bad timing now, with Ma and all,” she whispers.
I shake my head.
“No, Louisa, perfect timing doesn’t exist. I’m living proof. Besides, Ma would’ve wanted this for you. For us.”
Us .
Lou’s face blanks, and I fear I’ve gone too far. Fine hands cup my face, soft velvety pink lips brushing over mine as they mouth the word us .
I crash my mouth into hers with the intensity of a man who’s felt too much and needed for too long. I haul her onto my hips as I stand. But when she loses the world’s biggest yawn, I rest my forehead to hers.
“Bath and bed, little lady. You’ve done more than your share of takin’ care of this man for one day.”
“Only if you come, too.”
“I highly doubt we’ll both fit on the sofa.”
She shakes her head.
“No sofa?”
“No sofa,” she breathes, green eyes flooding with depth, stealing the air from my lungs.
Abandoning the pancakes, I pad to the bathroom. Depositing Lou on the vanity, I run the shower. While heat and steam shroud the small space, I relieve her of the old work shirt. Standing now in only her panties, she has me hard as fuck. But one glimpse of the purple bags under her eyes, and I usher her into the steaming water.
When we are both washed and I find Lou another of my clean shirts, I sweep her off her feet and tuck her into the right side of my bed. Like she goddamn belongs there.
I pad to the window and draw the curtains closed. Turning back to climb into bed, I find her sound asleep. I crawl in behind her and wrap my body around hers.
A small, soft noise leaves her lips as she wriggles backward, closer to me still. Burying my face in her hair, I thank whatever supreme being Ma used to talk to in the trees that I have Louisa in my life again.
This time for good.
My heart aches with the loss of my mother, and I hug Lou tighter. It’s surreal she isn’t just down the hall like she’s always been. It’s as if life decided I couldn’t have too much of a good thing. I couldn’t have Ma and Louisa.
That Ma will never see us together, never witness the life I plan to build with Lou, stings. Tears soak the pillow, and I let them fall. I cling to Lou. My life preserver.
Sleep tugs at me, and I go down willingly. The world will have to wait.