Chapter 7
Seven
Laurel stayed quiet on the drive back to the farm, her brain too full to flirt.
For the first time in maybe ever, she actually felt like there might be a way out of the cage she’d backed her way into.
Ivy was right. There were more options with a law degree than the ones she’d been chasing.
She’d just never explored them because they weren’t part of The Plan, and The Plan had been writ in stone practically since time immemorial.
As Sebastian parked his truck by the barn, he braced an arm on the steering wheel and turned toward her. “You okay?”
“I’m just thinking about what Ivy said.”
“Ivy said a lot of things tonight.”
His dry tone had Laurel huffing a laugh.
“Yeah, she did. I like her. She was stunningly correct in her profile of me. It’s so hard for me to even conceive of doing something else because it feels like giving up.
Because when you’re gifted at anything—academics, the arts, whatever—that’s how your stewardship over your own gifts is presented—over and over.
If you don’t use them, it’s a waste. It’s something that’s always been important to me, so I’ve never let myself think about doing anything else. ”
“Are you thinking about it now?”
“Hard not to. Which is scary as hell.”
“Change often is. Come up to the house with me. I want to tell you a story.”
They slipped out of the truck and he took her hand for the walk up the hill to his little cabin.
She loved the feel of his broad, work-roughened palm against hers.
That blend of strength and gentleness in those hands were so representative of the man himself.
The one who’d admitted he was crazy about her.
The knowledge made her giddy, and she hoped that meant she’d be feeling those hands on the rest of her before the night was through.
“You asked me the other day why I didn’t stay in the Army after becoming a Ranger. That wasn’t the right question. The question is why I went into the Army in the first place.”
“As much as you love horses, I wondered.”
“I never knew my father. He wasn’t ever involved and Mama married Kevin when I was about three, so I don’t remember anybody else.
He was the one who raised me. When he was around, anyway.
He was career military, gone on deployments a lot of the time, so most of the actual parenting was done by my mom and Walter. ”
“Who’s Walter?”
“Walter Perkins. He was the head trainer and something of a surrogate father to me when Kevin was away. ” He unlocked the door and let them inside, heading straight for the coffeepot. “Make yourself at home.”
Laurel shut the door and paused. The house was barely a thousand square feet, with an open-floor-plan living room and kitchen, and a short hall that led to what were probably a couple of bedrooms and a bath.
The furniture was minimalist, with a La-Z-Boy recliner and what had to be a second-hand sofa clustered around a coffee table made of reclaimed wood.
Other than some kind of horse magazines loosely stacked on the table, there were no knicknacks, no pictures, nothing that showed personalization or permanence.
Because he was just that minimalist or because he didn’t let himself believe he’d get to stay anywhere?
“Sorry for the bachelor chic decorating. I don’t exactly bring people up here, and I don’t need much for just me.”
Conscious that he might feel embarrassed because of what she came from, Laurel grinned.
“Are you kidding? I nabbed my granddaddy’s La-Z-Boy for my first apartment.
I love that chair. It’s perfectly broken in and has hosted many a nap.
” She crossed over to lean against the island, wanting to get him talking again. “Get back to your story.”
Sebastian methodically measured out coffee grounds and added water to the machine. When it began to gurgle, he kicked back against the counter opposite her, curling his hands tight around the edge in an uncharacteristic show of agitation.
“A few weeks before I graduated high school, Mama and Walter went to deliver a horse that’d been sold. On the way back, they were hit by a drunk driver. My mother was killed on impact, and Walter died in the ambulance.” She saw the quick slash of pain rip through him, even as he tried to mask it.
Horrified, hurting for the boy he’d been, Laurel pushed away from the island, crossing over to wrap her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”
For a moment he only stood there, wooden. She could only imagine the fear and anguish he was remembering. At last, he bent, pulling her closer and burying his face in her hair. They stood that way, in silence, until the coffeemaker beeped. Even then, he was slow to release her.
“Kevin was deployed at the time. It took him more than a week to make it back to the States.”
Alone. He’d been alone through all of it. The idea of it had a knot of tears forming in the back of Laurel’s throat, but she held them in as he kissed her brow and turned to pour the coffee.
“After the funeral, he didn’t know what to do with me.
And why should he? He’d been gone more than he was home.
But we were all each other had left. There was no money for college, even if I’d been interested in that.
The people Mama had worked for offered me a job, but I couldn’t see staying there without her or Walter.
It hurt too damned bad. So when Kevin suggested I consider enlisting, I did. ”
She couldn’t even imagine it. Going to boot camp with that loss still raw and no support at all.
“It finally gave us something in common. And I got it into my head that if I made it to the Rangers, became the best of the best, that he’d be proud of me.
I didn’t see or hear from him a lot during those months.
He was deployed and I was working my ass off.
When I graduated Ranger school and got assigned to my battalion in the 75th, I managed to set up a video chat to tell him. Know what he said?”
Laurel accepted the mug he offered. “What?”
“‘Good for you. That makes you a grown-ass man who can take care of yourself now. Watch your six and have a good life.’”
The man was supposed to have been Sebastian’s father. His family. And he’d just written him off? Laurel couldn’t fathom it. Outraged, she set the coffee down with a thunk. “Have a good life? What the hell was wrong with him?”
Sebastian cupped his own mug between his palms. “I thought it was the grief talking. So I applied myself to the job with the same dedication I’d given to the training.
I figured I’d work my way up the ranks, and then he’d see.
I was good at it, and I ended up in a unit with Harrison and Ty.
I found a second family. That part was good.
But Kevin…it took me years to accept that he never actually thought of me as his son.
And at that point, I realized I’d been doing all this shit for the Army, not because I believed in it, but in a vain attempt to impress somebody who was never going to be impressed. So I got out.”
To do that much work, put in that much effort, doing what was arguably one of the hardest jobs in the world, only to realize it was all for naught. Laurel couldn’t imagine it. But she was starting to see where he was going with this story.
“And then you came here?”
“Not at first. I spent about eighteen months drifting. Working odd jobs. Trying to get a handle on my shit. All the stuff that I did in the name of duty—a duty I didn’t actually feel that bone-deep call to do—that really fucked with my head.
It had some serious consequences for me, trauma I’m still dealing with.
Stuff I expect I’ll always be dealing with.
But I’m telling you all of this to illustrate the futility of living to please someone else.
The real crime, as it relates to you, isn’t in using your gifts on a different, less obvious path, but in using them to serve somebody else’s ideal, in a life that isn’t going to satisfy you.
And that’s why I keep pushing you about this. Because I don’t want that for you.”
His pivot made it clear that he was done talking about himself. He wasn’t looking for comfort or sympathy. This had all been about illustrating his point, so she did what he wanted, shifting mental gears back to her own situation.
“I don’t want that for me either.”
“What do you want?”
He’d asked her that so many times since she’d come to Eden’s Ridge. Each time, fear had held her back from really considering the question. But tonight…tonight she felt like she finally had an answer. Or part of one, at least.
“I’m not sure. But it’s not just that I don’t want the job in New York.
I don’t want to be a lawyer. I don’t want to be what my father wants me to be.
” She blew out another breath and felt like her next inhale was freer, easier.
“God, I really mean it. I don’t want to be a lawyer.
” It was a huge thing to admit. To him. To herself.
Because it meant finding a new path, a new plan.
“It’s not too late to change. I did. And maybe I’m still figuring out what that new life looks like, but I made the choice. You just took the first step. How’s it feel?”
She considered the question. Considered, too, the man who’d pushed her past her fear to get to this point. She wouldn’t have gotten here without him.
“Like a weight’s been lifted. It’s scary and exciting. And…it feels like something worth celebrating.”
As she looked up at him through lowered lashes, Sebastian’s blood began to heat.
He’d held off and held back, wanting to earn her trust, to convince her she could and should do something other than what she’d been working toward.
Mission accomplished.