Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
S he wasn’t at the lodge. She wasn’t at the duplex. Where could she be? The stable? Maxwell snapped his fingers. That was likely.
Yeah, he could text or phone her, but the way things were between them, she might not answer, and that was unacceptable.
He pointed his truck up Pegasus Lane and pulled to a stop beside the stable doors. The round pen was empty. No Echo. No Eryn. He jumped out of his truck and strode to the doors.
Inside the horse barn, he paused a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. Listened, but the only sounds that came to his ears were swishing tails and shifting feet.
He made his way toward Echo’s stall and the makeshift office nook, then stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of Eryn with her arms wrapped around the filly’s neck, her long blond hair curtaining her face.
Was that a sniffle? Man, she was crying.
A knife twisted in Maxwell’s gut. Janessa had been right. He’d been too focused on his own stuff to think about how he was affecting Eryn. Yeah, he’d been a little hurt by her dad’s interrogation and Eryn seemingly ignoring him at breakfast yesterday, but had his response been any better?
No. No, it had not.
“Eryn?” He kept his voice soft so as not to startle her.
Her head whipped around, her eyes large. “Maxwell?”
“I thought I might find you here. Do you have a few minutes?”
She closed her eyes and squeezed Echo’s neck as though she were gathering strength. Finally, she managed, “Okay,” as though she’d accepted being led to the gallows.
Eryn was killing him. “Hey. Come here.” He held his arms out to her.
She bit her lip and let go of the filly but kept her distance. “Just tell me what you need to say.”
Did she think he’d changed his mind about their relationship? Far from it. He tugged one of her hands free and pulled her gently down the alleyway and out the doors into the early November sunshine. A set of bleachers nearby offered seating for the gymkhanas Paisley and Weston arranged for kids to test their horsemanship prowess.
Still holding Eryn’s hand, Maxwell settled on the second level. She pulled free and sat down nearby. But not close. He turned to study her.
She stared at the fingers twisting in her lap and audibly gulped.
“Eryn, I treated you badly. I’m sorry.”
She glanced his way but didn’t quite meet his gaze.
“Your dad’s not completely wrong.”
Now she seemed to cower. Great, would he ever get this right? “Eryn? I’m not sure I’m good enough for you, but I promise that you’re not a game to me. I’m serious about my attraction to you, but I feel like I’m receiving mixed signals from you.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “And then I sent them back by disappearing. Or maybe they didn’t seem mixed. Maybe they felt like full-on rejection. I want to tell you why, but I’m afraid it will sound like excuses, not reasons. And there’s no excuse good enough to ignore you, and I’m sorry.”
“ You’re apologizing to me ?”
“Yes? I wronged you. I got so involved solving a problem at the cottages — Steve made a huge error on a tile job, then we had words and he quit, then I tried to fix it all — I told myself you didn’t want to talk to me because of your dad and because I couldn’t catch your eye at breakfast yesterday, and… Eryn?”
She cradled her face in her hands while her shoulders quaked.
He’d made her cry. Maxwell scooted closer and slipped his arm around her shoulder. “Hey, sweetie. I’m sorry.”
Now she was sobbing in earnest.
Maxwell had no sisters, and if his mother ever cried, it was far from her sons’ sight. What should he say? He was out of his league. He rubbed his palm over her upper arm. God? I could use some help here…
“I’m sorry, too,” she got out between sobs.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, sweetie. It was on me.”
Eryn shook her head. “I’ve done plenty wrong.”
When she was quiet too long, he murmured, “Haven’t we all? That’s why Jesus came.”
“I’ve been jealous of Amelia my entire life. Everyone liked her. No one even n-n-noticed me.”
Maxwell’s memories mocked his rebuttal before he uttered it. Eryn was right. He barely remembered her as more than a shadowy figure from his childhood. Like a diva, Amelia had commanded center stage.
“I only wanted to be her friend. Everyone talks about the twin bond, but we never had that. She always hated me.”
Hated was a strong word, but Maxwell kept his mouth zipped. Eryn was talking, and this was what she believed, and he needed to hear her out, even though the topic wasn’t quite what he’d expected. He kept stroking her upper arm. Waited.
“She had a thing for you.”
Maxwell winced, but it was undeniable.
Eryn shot a barely perceptible glance his way. “She got you to promise to marry her if you were both old and unattached.”
He pulled away and stared at Eryn. “Wait. What?”
“She wrote it in her journal. It was after Mom’s funeral.”
How did he not recall this? He remembered the funeral. Remembered the luncheon. Remembered feeling guilty that while he was celebrating a birthday, others mourned a life cut short.
“You don’t remember?” Eryn asked plaintively.
Maxwell shook his head. “She was crying.” What else?
“You hugged her.”
“I did? You saw that?”
Eryn’s face flushed and she looked down. “She wrote it in her journal.”
Just a sec. That was the second time she’d said that. “She kept a journal?” And Eryn had read it?
“This is the part where I’m sorry, okay?”
He nodded slowly.
“She had a notebook for every year from seventh grade on. I found them when Dad and I cleared out her room when we… lost the farm. Just before we moved here.”
Eryn had read her sister’s private words. He could see the temptation would have been great. Would he have succumbed? He had no clue, but he hoped not. Thankfully, his brothers weren’t likely to be journal-keepers, and he’d never discover how he’d react.
“I shouldn’t have read any of it. I know that. I knew Amelia… hated me.” Her voice broke again.
Maxwell’s hand resumed stroking her arm. He could offer that much support, at least, though it didn’t seem like much.
“And she did hate me. The sentiment was clear in nearly every entry.”
“How could you keep absorbing that?”
“You mean in life, or in the diaries?”
“Either.” He shook his head. “Both.”
“In life, because it was my reality. I didn’t know anything else. In her journals? That’s harder to answer.”
Maxwell waited.
“Partly…” She gave a shuddering sob. “I saw you through her eyes. She adored you.”
“Eryn?” When she didn’t meet his gaze, he turned her face toward his with a gentle touch to her chin. “She’s not here. Don’t let her be here, between us.”
“I know.” She gulped. “But you always keep your promises. You told me so.”
She was right. He had said that… but he didn’t remember anything about marrying Amelia. Could anyone have held him to that? He’d been a kid! “She’s dead, Eryn.” He gentled his voice as best he could considering the turmoil inside him.
“She would have pressured you to follow through.”
“She wouldn’t have succeeded.”
“But… promises.”
“Occasionally, people make vows they shouldn’t, without all the facts. Sometimes people make ones they fully intend to keep, but things happen to intervene.” Maxwell gave a mirthless laugh. “Like my parents’ marriage. If you look at their wedding pictures, they were all eyes for each other. Big smiles. I’m pretty sure my dad didn’t intend to break his promise to love and cherish her.”
“I get that.”
Did she? He caressed her jaw while his other hand tugged her closer to remove the gap between them. “We’re human. Only God is perfect at it, but that doesn’t let us off the hook. We still need to make promises carefully then do everything within our power to fulfill them. But we can’t control everything, and we can’t control someone else.”
Now her eyes searched his. “You’re right. I maybe read too much into that.”
“I want to make promises to you, Eryn. I think… no, I know I love you. But I don’t want to make them until I’m really, really sure. Until you are really, really sure.”
“You… love me?”
He hugged her. “I do, but I don’t want to scare you.”
Eryn shook her head. “You’re not scaring me, because I maybe love you, too. But you’re right about making sure.” She took a deep breath. “I burned Amelia’s journals in the lodge fireplace after lunch. Paisley stayed with me and encouraged me.”
Bless Paisley. Relief swept through Maxwell. He’d been trying to figure out how to broach the subject.
“She told me that reading them was like going up to Amelia every day and asking her to remind me why I was unworthy of love. Why she hated me and why everyone else should, too.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Maxwell pressed a kiss to Eryn’s temple. “I wish I could challenge your memory and tell you it couldn’t have been that bad, but I have no evidence to support it. How did your parents respond?”
“I don’t think they realized. They knew we weren’t close, but Amelia kept the nastiness private. She knew I wouldn’t tell, and she was right.”
And then she’d harbored the hurt closer by reliving it all through the entries. Maxwell’s heart ached for her. It wasn’t possible to get through life unscathed, but she’d made it even harder for herself than it needed to be.
“Then there was Dave Gerbrandt. I don’t know if you remember him.” Her voice was tiny but determined, as though she knew if she didn’t blurt everything right now, she might never find the courage again.
Dave. Dave. Dave? “Vaguely. He wasn’t at the reunion, I don’t think?”
“He was a class ahead of us in school. A few years ago, he began coming around, asking me out.”
News to Maxwell, but he stuffed the jealousy deep. That had been then. Obviously, nothing had come of it.
“We dated a few weeks, and I was so happy. Finally, someone saw me for me, you know?”
This didn’t have a happy ending. Maxwell knew it, but a happy ending then would have changed everything for him now.
“As soon as Amelia figured out I had a boyfriend, she turned her charm on him, and in the blink of an eye, the two of them were dating. That’s what Dave had wanted all along. He’d only used me to get to my sister, and it worked. I fell for it.”
Maxwell winced. “That must have hurt.”
“It killed me. They didn’t last long. Amelia wasn’t into commitment.” Eryn glanced at him. “Maybe she was holding out for you to keep your promise.”
Was that going to keep coming up between them?
He turned on the bleacher seat and took her face between both his palms. “Eryn? Is there anything else you need to tell me about your twin sister? If not, then I’m done with her. I don’t want her to have any power over you and me. She’s not here. I’m sorry she died and left your relationship unresolved, but I can’t change that. All I can do is tell you that you are absolutely worthy of being loved for who you are.”
Her lips trembled. “That’s what Paisley said, too.”
Maxwell owed Paisley big time. “But even if it turns out that you and I decide to part ways, that wouldn’t change your worth.” He brushed his lips over her forehead. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not planning to go anywhere, but the fact doesn’t change. You are worthy in God’s sight. It is God who gives you meaning. He offered you to be part of His family.”
“So many times in the past couple of months I chose to read Amelia’s mean, dismissive words at night instead of God’s words of love and assurance. That ends today.” She sniffled. “We are what we read, after all. If all we take in is trash, it can’t make us better people.”
“That’s true. I haven’t been reading anyone’s journals, but I’ve still neglected my quiet time more often than I’d prefer to admit. But we’re being honest here, so… there’s that. I tell myself I don’t have time, that whatever is waiting for me at work can’t wait another fifteen minutes.” Maxwell shook his head. “And that’s a lie, too. Nothing should be more important to me than starting out my day in God’s word. Smashing tile can wait a bit.”
“I thought you had it all together.”
“I don’t.” He waited until she lifted her blue eyes to meet his. Now there was hope — cleansing, maybe — in her gaze. “Are we okay?”
Eryn nodded, and Maxwell dipped his face to hers until their lips met.
He caressed her lips with his own, giving the love he couldn’t quite put into words yet, receiving hers.
Only the stomp of the filly’s hoof and her whinny brought him back to the present.