Chapter 21 Juliana
JULIANA
Juliana had spent most of the last month at Redemption Ridge Ranch, but the few times she’d ventured into the small town itself, it always struck her as something straight out of a movie.
Quaint shops. Lights strung like it was always Christmas.
People who waved at strangers. After years in California and other big cities, it was almost unnerving—as if she’d stepped onto a movie set where everyone had memorized their lines.
Cassie had dropped her off for a few hours so she could get a haircut and do some Christmas shopping.
If someone had told her three months ago that she’d be wandering the streets of a picturesque mountain town, picking out gifts for her husband and his family, she would have asked what kind of head injury they’d suffered. And yet, here she was.
The haircut had been the least expensive one she’d ever gotten.
Her mother would be scandalized. But Julie at Peak Style had done a great job.
She stepped outside, ran her fingers through her hair, and caught her reflection in the frosted window.
Not bad. Maybe even better than the overpriced cuts she’d gotten in L.A.
It was such a small thing, but she felt . . . content.
Her boots crunched on the salted sidewalk as she crossed to Donut Haven, the sugary warmth hitting her before she even opened the door. She ordered a peppermint mocha and eavesdropped on a conversation revealing that the owners’ daughter had gotten her learner’s permit.
Cup in hand, she strolled along Main Street, taking slow sips.
It should’ve just been another errand run.
But the more she looked around at the decorated windows or the bundled-up kids tugging their parents toward the bakery, the more she realized she liked being here.
She liked the way people looked her in the eye and remembered her name.
She liked waking up to the sound of horses nickering instead of traffic.
She liked the way Gideon had a knack for turning ordinary moments into something she wanted to remember.
As much as she loved her time at Redemption Ridge—and as increasingly impossible it was to deny her feelings for Gideon—her brain kept dragging her back to the job offer from Harrison Hotels.
Six months ago, she would’ve been doing mental cartwheels in Louboutins over the opportunity.
Now, the follow-up email was still sitting in her inbox, unread, like it might bite.
It wasn’t like her to avoid problems or procrastinate on big decisions. She’d tried everything: pro/con lists, long walks, prayers that started frantic and ended exhausted, even two separate five-year vision boards. But still . . . no peace. No clarity. Just the constant tug-of-war in her chest.
Although, peaceful contented moments like this were few and far between in her former life. She could use more of these. And she couldn’t deny the way her heart twinged every time she thought about leaving Gideon. That was one giant item on the con column for the new job.
She ducked into Olive & Sage, hoping inspiration might strike in the form of the perfect gift for Zeke.
She’d already scored a cool LEGO set for Stetson and toys for Arlo, Chance, and Juniper.
Cassie and Connie were getting customized weekender bags stuffed with fancy soaps, lotions, and candles she’d scavenged from other local shops.
Gideon, though . . . Gideon was a problem. The absolute opposite of materialistic.
She scanned the shelves of spices and oils, wondering if Zeke was the type to care about smoked paprika. He was an interesting mix of foodie and down-home family food.
For Gideon, maybe an experience was better.
Except . . . what kind of “experience” could she give a man who’d been everywhere and done everything?
He said yes to life like it was his job.
She smiled to herself, realizing that lately, she wanted to be part of those “yeses.” She wanted to keep saying yes to his crazy ideas.
With the shopkeeper’s help, she finally settled on a set of island-themed spice mixes for Zeke—a small tribute to where she and Gideon had started.
A little farther down Main Street, she found a bench and settled in to wait for Cassie.
People drifted by, even some familiar faces she was starting to recognize from the barn dance, church, or the ranch.
“I’m so glad I found you,” a breathless voice said from her left.
Juliana turned to see a woman in a bright-red coat rushing toward her, cheeks pink from the cold.
She had medium-length brown hair and looked to be about the same age as Juliana, though the rainbow beads and random letters on the necklace she was wearing were a dead giveaway that they were in very different stages of life.
“Levi and the kids and I are headed out of town for the holidays tonight, but Gideon said this was urgent. I really don’t have time to run it up to the ranch, so seeing you is a lifesaver.”
“I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
The woman laughed, shaking her head. “Oh my word, I’m so sorry. I’m Ruby Thompson. I’m a lawyer and friend of Gideon’s. And I really need to get him these documents before he leaves, but he’s not answering his phone and the drive out to the ranch is just not on the schedule today.”
At that admission, Juliana felt a pang of empathy for Ruby. If there was anything she understood, it was how a wrinkle in the schedule could ruin all her plans. And this poor woman didn’t deserve to have her vacation ruined just because Gideon was probably jumping off a cliff or something.
“Do you need me to give it to him? I’m headed back there after this.”
Relief flooded the woman’s face. “Yes, that would be amazing. It’s very simple.
At this point all you and Gideon have to do is sign the papers, and it’ll be like the marriage never happened.
You can both go back to your normal lives.
And you can tell Gideon that he owes me one.
Trying to research the laws from Tealua took forever.
” She laughed like this was a cute little errand instead of a nuclear bomb.
Juliana’s heart dropped so fast it felt like it might hit the stone bench beneath her. She forced a smile, even as her stomach twisted and her pulse started doing sprint intervals. The woman handed her a manila folder.
“I’ll make sure he gets it. Have fun on your vacation.”
“Merry Christmas to you both!” the woman called over her shoulder as she walked away.
Juliana sat frozen, the folder cold in her hands. The woman paused halfway down the block, turned back, and said, “I know this isn’t my place, but I feel like I have to say it. I know it was what you asked for, but you don’t have to sign those papers. Neither of you.”
Juliana managed a stiff nod, and then the red coat disappeared into the crowd.
She stared at the folder for a long moment before sliding a fingernail under the clasp.
Annulment paperwork. Even though it was exactly what she’d expected, it still hurt.
The folder felt heavier than it should have, edges cutting into her palms as she gripped it. For one dizzying moment, she considered tearing the whole thing in half as confetti for the wind to scatter down Main Street.
Her chest tightened, heat rising to her cheeks even as the cold air bit at them.
A moment ago, she’d been debating Gideon’s gift, imagining his half-smile when he opened it to discover tickets for both of them to Thailand or a cruise to the Arctic.
Now . . . now she couldn’t stop picturing him sitting in some stuffy office, desperately asking Ruby to draw up the paperwork.
Planning their ending while she’d been inching toward a beginning.
The urge to march straight to the barn, shove the papers into his hands, and demand answers hit hard—so hard her foot actually shifted toward the curb. But the other urge, the one that told her to disappear into her cabin and lock the door, was just as fierce.
She’d spent weeks trying to untangle her feelings, and for the first time this morning, she’d thought she might actually be getting somewhere. That she might be ready to choose this . . . choose him.
But what if he’d already chosen otherwise?
Her mother was right. No man would ever want her or her over-the-top need for control. She’d certainly let herself go while she’d been on the ranch, foregoing makeup and trading her slacks and blouses for jeans and hooded sweatshirts emblazoned with the Redemption Ranch logo.
Was that the problem? Or was it that she’d snapped at him for interrupting her yoga with the sound of his four-wheeler?
Her eyes burned. She blinked fast, refusing to let tears fall where anyone might see. Her grip on the folder loosened just enough to slip it into her tote bag, burying it under tissue paper and the bag of spice mixes like she could smother the reality inside.
She drew in a slow breath, the peppermint from her mocha now sharp and sour in her mouth. She’d thought she was ready to stay. To see where this detour could take her. But staying only worked if Gideon wanted her here too. And suddenly, she wasn’t so sure he did.
Laughter spilled from across the street, where a group of bundled kids darted between lampposts strung with garland, chasing the scent of cinnamon-roasted almonds from a nearby cart.
The air itself felt dipped in sugar and cinnamon, festive and warm in a way Juliana might have let herself sink into if not for the manila folder burning a hole in her lap.
She pulled her coat tighter, trying to shut it all out, but the cheer just pressed closer. Someone across the way called out “Merry Christmas” to her with the kind of easy joy she couldn’t quite return.
Headlights swept over the bench, breaking her focus. Cassie’s SUV slowed to the curb, the passenger window rolling down as Bing Crosby floated through the opening.
“Hey, you ready?” Cassie called, leaning over the passenger seat with a grin. “Hope you found something good for my brother. He’s impossible to shop for.”
Juliana’s fingers curled tighter around the tote bag in her lap, feeling the sharp corner of the manila folder pressing through the canvas. She forced a smile, the kind that felt glued in place. “Yeah. I . . . think so.”
Cassie’s gaze flicked to her face, like she might ask something, but the honk of a car behind them made her shift back to the wheel.
“Hop in. I need your opinion on something. Mom wants to do this over-the-top hot chocolate bar at the Christmas Eve service. Have you been up to the Triple R Chapel yet?”
Juliana shook her head and was grateful when Cassie kept talking unprompted.
“Oh, it’s totally gorgeous. Honestly, I wish I would have had a real wedding there.
I need to convince Jason to do a vow renewal or something.
Anyway, we always have a Christmas Eve service there for anyone on the ranch who wants to come.
It’s at sunset and the glass that overlooks the mountain shows off the whole valley.
Then it gets dark, and we do the whole candlelit carols thing. ”
“Sounds lovely,” Juliana managed to add.
“Totally is. And Mom wants to do this hot chocolate bar too. I want to show it to you this week and see if you think we can swing it in the space.”
She nodded and stared out the window for the drive back to the ranch, clenching her fists as though she could hold herself together with a grip on her palm.
She had come to Redemption Ridge brittle and guarded, convinced she could keep her distance and just wait it out.
But somewhere between the trail rides, the barn dance, and the quiet moments when Gideon saw past all her defenses, she’d let hope sneak back in.
Hope that maybe God wasn’t finished with her story.
She had started to believe that trusting Him again was possible. Each time she caught herself breathing easier, laughing more, or whispering a prayer she hadn’t planned, she’d wondered if this was what faith was supposed to feel like.
But now? With those papers in her hands, it felt like all that fragile growth had been knocked sideways. Gideon hadn’t chosen her. Not really. And if he hadn’t . . . maybe she’d misread everything. Maybe she’d misread God, too.
She blinked against the sting in her eyes and pressed her fist harder into her lap.
Faith was supposed to be about trusting when you couldn’t see the outcome, wasn’t it?
That was what Cassie and the others seemed to live so effortlessly.
But for Juliana, faith still felt like stepping out onto a rope bridge over a canyon—every creak and sway reminding her how far she could fall.