Chapter Thirty-One
“Hey, darlin’.”
My body startled, the bridle in my hand falling to the ground.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” George said.
“No worries. I’m just a bit on edge, that’s all.”
The last week had been shitty to say the least. Plus, it didn’t help that every damn place I looked, there were bullshit headlines on new articles spouting more exaggerations and lies about my life.
I felt so uncomfortable.
Uncomfortable for the way I just ran out and left Stetson. Uncomfortable thinking about how he was having to deal with all the backlash from this coming out. Uncomfortable because I didn’t have him next to me. But mostly uncomfortable with myself and how I’d allowed myself to get here.
“That’s why I wanted to come check on you. See how you were doin’ with everything. I imagine having the whole world know all your secrets ain’t too much fun,” he admitted, leaning against the door frame of the tack room.
“You could say that,” I mumbled, dropping to snag the bridle from the floor. “But honestly, I don’t think that’s the part that upsets me most. It’s that I wasn’t the one who got to tell Stetson about my past.”
“You mean about the adoption?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “And what makes everything worse is that this all happened the same night I met Ruby, his late best friend’s daughter who was adopted. The same one whose birth parents he’d been on a mission to find, a promise he’d made to his friend before he passed,” I shared.
The words felt sticky as they came out, making the guilt heavier.
“I know,” George replied.
I rotated around. “You knew?”
“Stetson and I have spent a lot of time together, just us and this big ol’ farm. And these hills tend to give people the luxury of keepin’ their secrets,” he said.
Selfishly, a piece of me wished he would’ve told me, but I knew George well enough to know he’d never share something that wasn’t his to share, something I deeply admired about him.
I was fairly confident the man knew things that could light this whole town on fire, and yet you’d never hear him mumble a word of it.
“Fair enough. I just wish I would’ve said something earlier, but I guess hindsight is always twenty-twenty, isn’t it?
” I admitted, but I had no one to blame but myself.
“It’s just that every time it gets brought up, an immense sense of guilt and embarrassment flood through me, like I’m tarnished or somehow less than.
So, when you’re trying to impress someone, something like that feels hard to disclose. ”
He nodded as a soft smile grazed his lips. “Uh-huh. That’s what I thought,” he said. “For years you’ve carried around this guilt and embarrassment like a ball and chain. I don’t know why you’re doing that to yourself, and it pains me to think that you see yourself as a bad person because of it.”
“Well, I should’ve been brave enough to keep the child.
My child. I should’ve figured it out instead of taking the easy way out and running from the situation.
Sometimes I can’t believe I was able to give away my own flesh and blood so quickly and just move on with my life.
Quite honestly, it makes me sick to even think about it. ”
“But that’s the thing, darlin’, you didn’t move on with your life.
Why do you think it is that you never wanted to leave Quincey Falls?
You think maybe it has anything to do with the fact that you always hoped they’d come back here and find you?
” The silence floated around us like dust particles before George went on. “Because I do.”
His words illuminated a truth that I’d always known but never dared to speak out loud. Agreeing to move to Chicago with Zane was the first time I got even remotely close to leaving, and even then, I was hesitant.
“And who says what you did was easy? You gave up a child because you knew, even at seventeen, that you couldn’t provide the life that child needed to succeed. You allowed them to find a better life even if that meant breaking your own heart.”
“But—” I started.
“But nothing,” he said, cutting me off as he threw a saddle over his shoulder.
“You are no less of a person because of the decision you made. In fact, I find you to be one of the bravest humans I know. Your decision has given you the ability to see things a little differently—hell, you might even bring a fresh perspective to finding Ruby’s parents, find a way to be of some help to Stetson.
” He huffed, grabbing the rest of the stuff I needed from the tack room.
“But I do think you need tell him. You and I both know what he’s probably thinking now that he knows you put a baby up for adoption around the same time Ruby was adopted, and Scarlett, he deserves the truth, even if it’s not what he wants to hear. ”
George was right, but the thought of having to break his heart even more made my stomach churn.
“And don’t ever for a second doubt yourself or who you are as a person. You, Scarlett, are worthy of love and happiness just like everyone else, but until you allow yourself to believe that, you’re going to be the one getting in your own way.”
“But how do I allow myself to leave it in the past and keep going?” I asked, eager for him to tell me.
“I didn’t say for you to leave it in the past. Something as big as this doesn’t simply get left in the past; it gets brought with you, every hour of every day, stuck to you like bonfire smoke.
But instead of letting it consume you, eating you alive until you’ve got nothing left, you should let it define you, shape you into the person you want to be, the reason you do the things you do, and the driving force behind the person you want to be.
You made a choice—a tough one, no doubt—but that choice only shows the kind of person you are.
And maybe one day you’ll have the chance to look your child in the eyes and tell them the reason behind what you did.
I can bet they’ll understand. Maybe not at first, but eventually they would come to see you for the person I know and love and it would all make sense to them. ”
I swiped a rolling tear off my cheek.
I didn’t know what it was about George, but he had the ability to make everything seem a little less scary.
His words forced you to look at a situation differently, until you were less overwhelmed and far calmer.
He helped you to see things from a very matter-of-fact perspective—something I’d always been grateful for.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, George.”
“Good thing, because you ain’t gettin’ rid of me,” he joked.
“But really, thank you. For listening. For making me feel better. For never judging me. And for always being my voice of reason.”
“Of course, darlin’. Life wouldn’t be worth livin’ if it was all rainbows and butterflies,” he said. “Speaking of, have you heard from Stetson at all?”
“Yeah, he’s called a few times, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to answer,” I replied quietly as I looked away.
A few times was putting it lightly. He’d called and texted every day, multiple times a day, but I’d never answered. I couldn’t bring myself to hear his voice, fearing the disappointment in it would break my heart even more.
He subtly bobbed his head up and down. “Why don’t you go get some fresh air, clear your head. I’ll be around if you need me.”
“Okay,” I said, starting in the direction of the stables. My feet stopped and I rushed back to George, pushing my whole body into his. “Thank you, George. You’re the best.”
“Don’t you forget it,” he said, squeezing me back.
I nodded my head in agreement against his chest.
Valhalla slowed, finding himself distracted by something in the field.
His pause made me take in the space around me. The sun was emerging in the east, beaming light across the entire farm. The scent of fresh, wet nature danced under my nose and the warmth laced in the breeze promised a nice day ahead.
When everything was unstable, Rolling Meadows wasn’t.
“Come on, boy,” I said, leaning down, getting closer to his face.
He refocused, picking up his pace as he trotted through the tall, dewy grass. April was here, which meant spring had officially arrived in Quincey Falls—and thankfully so, because it was the only thing that forced me outside today.
The morning was exceptionally peaceful despite the dust storm of shit swirling around my head. Valhalla and I made our way to our favorite spot between the trees. The rush of the waterfall came into earshot, immediately alleviating some of the anxieties I’d been carrying since I left Nashville.
“Woah… woah,” I said, tightening the reins.
Valhalla slowed before coming to a complete stop, allowing me to slide off his back and onto the ground.
The stability of the earth beneath my feet allowed me to take a few deep breaths, the kind that reached way down deep into your chest and severed the string of concern.
A pop of orange caught my attention.
The same orange that appeared every April, the orange that I’d found solace in so many times before. A couple dozen poppies huddled together in the corner by the base of the waterfall.
I took a seat on a large rock near the edge of the water.
George’s words had replayed over and over in my head since I left the barn.
I believed what he’d said, I really did, but part of me still struggled with the guilt of the whole situation and the looming fear of what Stetson would think of me.
Not to mention, the worst part of it all was that I wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
I dropped my head back, allowing my gaze to trend upward. The tiny opening where the blue sky danced above brought a grin across my face, remembering when I brought Stetson here.
I reached for my phone in my jacket pocket, finding Stetson’s number and dialing it while holding on to my fleeting confidence for dear life.
“Is it true?” A voice snaked through the trees.
Was I hearing shit?
I jumped, startled, and whipped my head around.
Stetson stood only a few feet away from me, with Cheyenne next to him. His dark blue jeans, hooded sweatshirt, and trucker hat made him look about as exhausted as I felt.
“Is it true?” he asked again. “Did you put a baby up for adoption?”
I searched his voice for any inkling into how he felt, but it was completely void of any sentiment.
“Yes,” I answered. “When I was seventeen.”
“Holy shit,” he mumbled, striding closer to me.
The tone of his voice wasn’t disappointment, disgust, or anger. It was something completely different, something dancing the line between hope and uncertainty and my stomach sank further.
“Stetson…”
“What if you’re her…” he said, moving until he was only a few inches away from me.
My head feverishly shook back and forth.
“Ruby’s birth mom. What if you’re her?” His gaping jaw slowly closed before he began going a hundred miles per hour.
“I know it’s crazy, but after I read the article, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
About you and about her and about how there are just so many similarities.
” The optimism in his eyes was like a dagger to my heart, but he just kept going, kept making it so much harder to tell him the truth.
“Maybe the world had a reason for putting us together.”
“Stetson…” I interrupted, frantic for him to let me speak.
“Just hear me out. Ruby is thirteen, and you gave up your baby thirteen years ago. Her parents are from Quincey Falls, and you’re from Quincey Falls.” A smile slowly emerged behind his teeth, one that I hated to push back in.
“Stetson, stop,” I shouted, placing my hands firmly on his arms. “I’m not Ruby’s birth mother,” I said, staring right into those ocean eyes that were sure to turn a stormy gray once I was finished.
“How do you know?” he asked. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because seventeen years ago, I gave a little boy up for adoption. I can’t be Ruby’s mom.” The words fell from my mouth in the shape of lightning bolts and thunder heads, turning a spring storm into a category five hurricane.
“Oh.” His shoulders slumped and he shuffled backward. I saw the moment everything inside of him went dark. “I just… I just thought it had to be you. I wanted it to be you.”
“I’m sorry,” I declared. “I would’ve like that too, more than you know.”
The devastation on his face could’ve brought me to my knees, probably because I was disappointed too. What I would have given to not only be the answer to his problem but the answer to a question I’d held with me for thirteen years…
“Don’t be sorry.” He lowered his head. “It’s not your fault. I just got ahead of myself.”
But I was sorry. Sorry that I hadn’t told him, sorry that the article had gotten his hopes up, and sorry that I wasn’t who he was looking for.
I sighed. “This is a lot. I know.”
Part of me hoped he would disagree and we’d spend the next couple of hours talking through everything, but it wasn’t fair of me to expect that from him.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “It is.”
For the first time, even though he was standing right next to me, Stetson seemed distant, like he was miles away. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever feel close again.
“I should probably get back to the studio. Mark’s been on my ass to finish up these last few songs. He’s ready to the cut the album now,” Stetson said, shoving his hands into the pocket of his navy sweatshirt.
“Yeah, I totally get it,” I said, and I did get it, but that didn’t make it any better. “I have some work to get done too. Actually, I need to finish up the piece on you. I told Donna I would give it to her after the show, so she’s probably wondering where it is.”
“So you decided to be the one to finish it?” he asked, but it must have been rhetorical because he kept going. “I’m sure it’s great. I can’t wait to read it.” His words normally would’ve held more excitement, but this time there wasn’t even a glimpse.
He threw his leg over the saddle, mounting Cheyenne in one fell swoop.
This all felt so weird, unlike any interaction we’d ever had, and I absolutely fucking hated it.
His voice drew me back to reality. “Scarlett?”
“Yeah.”
“I really am sorry about the article.”
My lips curled up, slightly resembling a smile as I fought back tears. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. And where were we supposed to go from here?
Everything felt different.
Wrong.