28. Jacinthe
Jacinthe
I pull into the driveway at La Grange Rouge just as the sun is starting to set. My hands are shaking on the wheel. The only reason I got through the day without collapsing was by chugging coffee from the kitchen at Balsam Inn every two hours.
Maddie even tried to get me to take a nap in one of the empty guest rooms, but I was way too wired. Sleep-deprived or not, I needed to move.
It only took me a few hours to zoom through my whole to-do list of tasks at the inn. I even got started on packing up the lawn furniture for the winter before Natalie caught me trying to stack picnic tables all by myself.
She called me an insurance risk and ordered me to go home.
I cut the engine and hop out of the truck. I’m about to head into the house to grab a snack when I spot something out of place down by the barn.
Specifically, it’s a horse out of place.
One of the horses is saddled up and tied to the hitching rail.
I glance around to see if Maman might have decided she’s feeling up for a ride, but there’s no one in the yard that I can see from here.
I stuff the truck keys into my pocket and trudge towards the barn. Once I’m a little closer, I recognize Sam. His black tail swishes, and his ears flick towards the sound of my footsteps.
“ Salut ?” I call out. “ Maman ?”
There’s no answer. I walk faster.
By the time I reach the hitching post, I still haven’t heard or seen anyone.
“Sammy, qu’est-ce que tu fait ?” I croon, stretching my hand out to let him sniff me.
Then I spot the sticky note on his saddle. I rip it off and hold it up to my face to read the short sentence scrawled in blue ink.
Meet me at Sunset Ridge.
My heart pounds. That’s not Maman ’s writing. I stuff the sticky note into my pocket and whip my phone out instead. I shoot Maman a text to ask if everything is okay and then stand there giving Sam some pats while I wait for a reply.
She answers in less than a minute, with a whole bunch of winky face emojis and a message telling me there’s someone waiting for me.
“What the hell is going on here, Sam?” I ask while stroking his forelock out of his eyes. “What am I supposed to do?”
He snorts and tosses his head.
I guess he’s right; it’s pretty fucking obvious.
I’m supposed to go to Sunset Ridge.
Five minutes later, we’re trotting along the trail through the woods. Sam is extra frisky in the chilly air, but I don’t try to cull his scampering. I’m too busy with some scampering of my own. My pulse is racing, and my body is urging me to nudge Sam up into a gallop.
I can’t tell if I’m excited or terrified.
There’s only one person who could be waiting at the end of this ride, and I have no idea what she’s got to say to me.
By the time I make it out of the woods and up the hill to the ridge, the sun is almost kissing the mountains goodnight. The sky is a mottled indigo and pink, with brilliant orange fanning out from the west.
Even without the glow of their autumn leaves, the Laurentian Mountains are stunning. The endless rolling slopes look like the curves of a woman’s body stretched out under a patterned bedspread, like shoulders and hips just waiting to be kissed.
I tug on the reins to bring Sam to a halt. He prances around a little but stays still enough for me to scan the ridge.
We have to walk a few more meters around a clump of bushes, and then there she is.
Tess.
She’s tied Nana up to the old hitching post, and she’s sitting on a boulder spread with a striped blanket. There are a couple saddlebags sitting on the ground beside her, stuffed with what looks like a Thermos and a few Tupperware containers of food.
She jumps to her feet as soon as Sam plods around the edge of the bushes.
“You came.”
Her eyes are wide. She’s wearing a thick black jacket zipped up to her chin and her usual worn blue jeans over some riding boots.
“You left me a horse with a sticky note on his saddle,” I say. “Of course I came.”
I don’t know if I should laugh. It feels risky to even smile.
She probably wouldn’t drag me all the way out to the ridge and bring a nice meal for us if she was planning on announcing she’s leaving forever, but stranger things have happened out here in these hills.
“I take it I should, uh, get off the horse?” I ask.
She snaps out of her trance and comes over to hold Sam’s bridle for me. A couple minutes later, he’s hitched up next to Nana while Tess and I stand face to face.
The setting sun makes her profile glow. Her hair is a little rumpled from her riding helmet, and all I want to do is reach over to smooth down her bangs.
Instead, I stuff my hands in my pockets and scuff at some pebbles with the toe of my boot.
Tess takes a deep breath. “First off, I need to apologize.”
I snap my gaze up from the ground to meet her stare.
“I was harsh with you last night,” she says. “I was terrified about Shel, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
I shake my head and wave the apology off. “Your kid was missing. It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry for that.”
“It’s not just that,” she insists. “I said some things I didn’t mean.”
My heart is beating so loud I’m scared it’s going to block out the sound of her voice. I cross my fingers in my pockets and hold my breath.
“I don’t wish we never moved here.”
She takes a step closer. There’s a ringing sound in my ears, and I wonder if I’m about to pass out.
“In fact, I think moving here might be the best thing I’ve ever done.”
The air whooshes out of my lungs. Tess is still hovering a couple feet away, but the tiniest smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.
“I came to La Cloche looking to start a new life,” she says, “one that felt more intentional. After I got pregnant with Shel, life turned into one big series of reactions. I wanted to make something built for me and her from the start. I wanted more control.”
She flicks her eyes to the sky above us and huffs a laugh.
“But life doesn’t work that way, does it? You don’t get control. You don’t get to see the big picture. There’s always something hovering around the corner you can never quite plan for, and this time, that something was you.”
The whole horizon seems to tilt behind her. I feel like I’m floating outside my body and watching from up in the mountains as I place a hand on my chest and check over both my shoulders before asking, “ Moi ?”
Tess bursts out laughing.
“Yes, you,” she says. “I mean, toi .”
I come back down to earth and start laughing too. It feels like some of the tension is draining out of us, and by the time we’ve calmed down, I realize we’ve moved to stand just inches apart.
“Jacinthe,” Tess says. My name sounds so perfect on her lips. “I…I’m not just attracted to you. I care about you. I like you. I think I could fall for you, if I let myself.”
My heart swells in my chest, squishing against my ribs in a way that should be painful, but instead, I just want more. I want to be so full of this feeling that there’s no room for anything else.
“I’ve been trying to find a way around that,” Tess continues. “I’ve been treating it like it’s a problem, like it’s the catch that comes along with everything good I’ve found in La Cloche, but what if it’s not?”
I see her hand flex at her side, but she doesn’t reach for me.
“What if you, and what we have….what we could have…” She trails off, her eyes searching my face. “What if it’s the best thing in this whole damn town?”
I can’t help it anymore. I need to touch her.
I slide my hand out of my pocket and stretch my fingers out towards her. She catches them in her own, and the warmth of her skin is like a murmured reassurance.
She’s here. She’s not going anywhere.
“It’s not logical,” she says, gripping me tighter. “It’s not rational. It’s not the smartest choice, but honestly, I’m so fucking tired of being smart.”
We both laugh at that. I tug her a little closer until we’re almost chest to chest.
“And you know what?” she adds. “I think giving up on this without giving it a shot might actually be very fucking stupid.”
My throat is too thick for me to speak, but I brush my thumb over her knuckles to let her know I agree. She shivers at my touch, her eyelids fluttering closed.
“You fit me,” she murmurs. “You fit me better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
She opens her eyes and leans her head closer, until our foreheads are almost touching.
“I’ve spent years being terrified I’ll only ever be an inconvenience to a partner, or worse, that I’ll end up with someone who makes Shel feel like an inconvenience.
” She grimaces for a moment and then goes on.
“But maybe I’ve worried so much that I’m the one making her an inconvenience when she’s not a problem at all. Not to you.”
My throat is still hoarse, but I force myself to speak.
“Of course not. I promised her she is always welcome here. I meant that.”
Tess nods, the tip of her nose grazing mine.
“I know you did, and I want to trust that.”
She’s breathing hard enough that I can see the rise and fall of her chest under her jacket.
“I-I do,” she stammers. “I do trust that.”
Her eyes flare wide, like she wasn’t sure she’d be able to say it.
“Which is a huge leap of faith,” she adds in a rush, “and maybe it makes me irresponsible, but it feels true. I feel it in here, and that matters. That counts.”
She lifts our joined hands so they’re pressed between our chests.
“So I want to do this,” she says. “I want to stay at La Grange Rouge. I think we could build something really special here, and I want…you. I want you, Jacinthe. For real. I want us.”
I can feel the warmth of her breath on my lips and the heat of the setting sun on my face.
This is the part where I’m supposed to say I want us too. This is the part where I’m supposed to tell her I feel everything she does, that I want her here just as badly as she wants to stay, but I can’t speak.
I can’t make a sound.
If I tell her I want her, there’s no taking it back. There’s no putting the walls back up.
I’ll be letting her in, and it’s been so long since I did that for anyone.