Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
Hartley
The night sky is dark with a million silver stars sparkling overhead. In the distance, crickets sing and lightning bugs flicker here and there. The air is damp and cool. But it’s to be expected at two in the morning.
I press the balls of my bare feet against the porch, rocking the porch swing back and forth. It’s soothing my frazzled nerves. The beer helps that, too.
The shock has worn off as much as it can. I have a feeling that my world will never recalibrate after Lolly’s proposition. Regardless of what happens, today fundamentally changed my life.
I glance across the driveway, taking in my truck parked alone on the gravel. It’s never bothered me before. But tonight, it feels … lonely. Like something is missing. Like another car should be parked beside it, taking up space that was always meant for her.
“Dammit,” I breathe into the night. Guilt consumes me for wanting this, for hoping that this ruse of a marriage can come to fruition. “I’m a selfish bastard.”
I rock back again, harder this time, as a quiet ache stretches across my bare chest.
Mira’s face said it all this afternoon. There wasn’t hope there. Her pretty features were void of acceptance, or even a hint of possibility. She was panicked and looked to be feeling trapped—altogether unhappy. Likely in shock.
Can’t blame her for that. So was I.
But I can imagine her curled up next to me. I can hear her laughter rolling through the fields. I still as I think of Christmas with her, waking up next to her, and seeing her toothbrush next to mine.
It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Mira and the land. But to get one, I have to risk losing the other … even if it will ruin me in the end.
I take another pull of beer and stare into the night.
“The house and front fifty acres will be turned over to you, Mira, and you can do with it what you want. The rest of the property will be signed over to you, Hartley.”
“Why couldn’t she have just stopped there?” I ask the frogs croaking somewhere out of sight.
A swell of excitement rises in my chest as I consider the real possibility of bringing the rest of the Adler property back together. This time yesterday, I didn’t think there was an ice cube’s chance in hell that it could happen. Yet it’s within my grasp.
But feels further away than ever.
I sigh, thinking about Mira. I don’t have to ask her if she wants Lolly’s house or not. If I did ask her, she’d say she doesn’t know. But I know her. I know that woman’s heart. And beneath the sass and running shoes is a girl who hasn’t known how to grieve her parents’ death.
That’s why she runs.
That’s why she’ll never stop moving because stillness means feeling things she’s been outrunning for over half of her life.
My parents come to mind, and I feel the warmth that always surrounded them—the love and pride.
They were always so proud of Gray and me, regardless of what we did.
But I always wonder if they would’ve approved of the choices I’ve made.
I didn’t have a roadmap for how to handle a ranch, a brother, and a personal life, and my choices seemed simple: keep our family legacy intact at the ranch and encourage Gray to follow his dreams …
or sell the ranch and chase Mira. I bet Dad would appreciate the path I took.
But I bet Mom wouldn’t be so happy about it.
Sometimes I think I’ve let them down in a bunch of ways. But if I could get this land back, that would be one thing I did right.
I slow the swing, my heart thumping.
The marriage between Mira and me would never be real, and I can’t imagine that would make my parents proud, either.
Not to mention that there would always be a ticking clock over our heads, and I’d have to remind myself a million times a day that it’s all pretend.
But I could do that. I could do it for a year—make the memories I’ve always wanted with her, just in case she never loves me enough to stay.
At least I’d have that, and the land would survive.
Headlights sweep across the trees and bounce off the barn.
I spot the light just before I hear tires pound into a pothole in the driveway.
I set my beer down and stop moving, waiting to see if I need to jump up and get protection from inside the front door.
But just as I start to stand, I recognize the vehicle.
Mira.
She pulls up beside my truck and climbs out.
I take a shaky breath. I’m not sure if she sees me or not, and I don’t want to scare her. “What are you doing out here?” I ask, so she knows I’m here.
She comes up the steps and stops at the edge of the porch. Her hair is in a braid over her shoulder. There’s a rosiness in her cheeks that happens when she’s extra tired, and I wonder if she’s wrestled with sleep like I have tonight.
Her eyes are wary as she searches mine. “I came to see Pigasso.”
“At two in the morning?” I ask, grinning.
A slow smile touches her lips as she sits on the floor with her bare feet on the steps.
I stand, the swing creaking as I move. “If you’re going to stick around, sit up here.”
“I’m fine.”
“The concrete is cold,” I say, motioning to the swing. I’d sit with her, but I have a feeling she needs space. “Seriously. Get up there.”
She makes a face as she gets to her feet, flashing me a grin in the process. “See? This is why we can’t get married. You already think you can give me orders.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s the reason we can’t get married.”
She slowly lowers herself onto the swing. I duck inside the house and grab a throw blanket from a basket Cathy keeps by the door.
“Here,” I say, handing it to Mira.
As she takes it, our fingers touch. It’s the slightest contact—the briefest brush—but my body reacts like something major just happened.
My pulse races and heat flashes up my arm so quickly that it almost burns. It’s as though holding her last night has opened a door that I closed years ago—a chance to touch Mira. This doesn’t bode well for the future.
“Thank you,” she says softly, covering her lap with the fabric. “I want you to know that I had no clue Lolly was going to … go there today. Or yesterday, I guess it is, at this point.”
“Oh, I believe that. You looked as shocked as I felt.”
“I just …” She sighs, shrugging. “I think I’m still in shock. Like, is this not the most Lolly thing ever?”
I chuckle. “Actually, I think she leveled up with this one. She’s always a little mischievous, but I never would’ve suspected she was capable of something this drastic.”
“Drastic is a good word for it.”
“How do you feel about it?” I ask, testing the waters. It’s going right for the deep end on the first dive, but I figure we might as well get it out in the open. It’s why she’s here, after all. “You can be honest with me.”
“I’ve been thinking about this. Obviously.” She chuckles, too. “And I don’t even know if I want Lolly’s house or not.” Her features are steady as she looks up at me. “But you deserve the land.”
I shake my head. “We’re not doing this because you think I deserve something.”
“But you do.”
I wish I could pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead—love on her a little. She’s a wild woman in many ways, but she can be the sweetest of them, too. I’d never put her in a position of marrying me for only me to benefit from it.
She pulls the blanket more tightly around her middle.
“I don’t want to be here. I’m not going to lie and pretend that I do.
But I …” She looks past me, staring into the night.
She pouts, which suggests she’s reliving something painful.
Finally, she returns her attention to me.
“I don’t know if I want Lolly’s house or not, but I also don’t want to make a decision just to make it.
And I think having a few months to think about it would probably be smart. And very un-Mira-like.”
Hope blooms inside me so fast that it nearly steals my breath. I study her eyes, desperate to find any traces of regret or uncertainty. But I find none.
“We don’t have to do this,” I say, hating the sound of the words cutting through the air.
Because I do want to do it. I’m nearly desperate to do it now that she’s in front of me and I realize this is my only chance to experience life with her—even if I can’t keep it.
Even if I’m aware, and accept, that she’ll walk away when the year is over.
My fingers itch to grab her and hold her, but I fight the urge like I always do when we’re together. I can do this for a year. I can keep my hands, and heart, to myself. I’ve survived pretending I don’t love her for so long that I can pretend for twelve more months.
And at least I’ll get to see her every day and make memories that I’ll never have a chance to do otherwise.
“This is surreal,” she says, laughing softly.
“You think?” My laughter joins hers. “I feel like I’ll wake up and it’ll be a dream.”
“It’s more like a nightmare.”
Well, damn. I grimace, hoping she doesn’t notice.
“Except for the you part,” she says, looking up at me through her thick lashes. “You’re the only reason I think I might be able to do this.” She takes a quick breath, almost as if she’s second-guessing saying what’s on her mind. “As long as it doesn’t affect anything between you and Lora …”
Lora? “Uh, no. Lora and I are not a thing. She just sits by me at church.”
“But she clearly wants it to be a thing.”
The side of my mouth lifts. “But that doesn’t make it a thing.”
“Well, okay. I just wanted to be sure.”
I stare into her sparkling eyes and feel a breath finally reach the bottom of my lungs. I’m not sure if she’s jealous of Lora or just concerned about hurting another woman. Either way, I like it.
Finally, she sighs. “To be honest, I don’t trust myself to be in Sugar Creek for very long without losing my mind. The memories, the comparisons—the looks in people’s eyes when they see me. It’s pity. I hate it.”
“If there’s anyone who understands that, it’s me, Mira.”
Because I do. I know what it’s like to be compared to your parents by someone every day, or to be reminded of something they did or didn’t do.
I hear stories weekly about my father, receive condolences to this day from people who I haven’t seen for a while.
“It’s terrible your father isn’t here to see you. ”
No shit.
“I know that,” she says. “And that’s why you’re the only person I’ve ever admitted that to.” She sits up, pulling the blanket off her lap and draping it on the back of the swing. “So this marriage thing …”
“It’s up to you. I’d never pressure you into anything.”
She smiles.
“But, yeah, it’s up to you,” I repeat because I don’t know what else to say. Anything more would feel like I’m trying to lead her in a certain direction.
“We’d need guidelines,” she says, standing. “If we’re going to get through this next year without complicating things between us, we definitely need some kind of a blueprint.”
I force a swallow. She’s right. Things between us have never been easy to begin with, and under these circumstances—a marriage of convenience—they could get messy. And that’s the last thing I want for her … or me.
“I agree,” I say. “We can hash out whatever makes you feel safe.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Feeling safe with you is never the problem, Hart.”
It feels like I’ve been punched in the chest. She’s gonna destroy me. And I’m gonna let her.
“Want to meet up tomorrow and work things out?” she asks.
“I’ll be out working on Betsy Barn most of the day, if you wanna come out. Or call me, and I’ll meet you somewhere.”
“Okay.” She blows out a breath, a grin flirting with the corner of her mouth. “I guess that’s it then. We’re gonna get married.”
My chest rises, trembling as it moves. “We’re gonna get married.”
I never imagined hearing those words from her lips—not directed at me, anyway. And hearing them tonight, on my porch, with Mira wearing her cute pajamas and no shoes, it’s ridiculous and hard to believe. But it’s true.
It might not be for the right reasons, and it might not even be real, but for the next twelve months, I’ll be in her orbit. And that’s enough.
It has to be.
“Yeah,” I say, giving her a steady smile. “I guess we’re getting married.”
She nods and turns toward her car. I grab the banister and watch her climb in and reverse away from the house.
I don’t breathe again until her taillights are out of sight.