Chapter 93
Macey
“What was your sister doing?” Daddy says to me. “Everyone knows you can’t open Jane’s cell. What if the legend is wrong and she gets out before the soul mates are found?”
I spin on him. “Are you really that selfish that you’re willing to hold someone here against her will because you’re scared to run this bar on your own? If you can’t manage it without a ghost, maybe you’re not doing a very good job.”
“I don’t think I can run it without her,” Daddy admits. “Her legend is everything to The Cowherd.”
I stare at him. “You don’t think you can run The Cowherd without Jane? Or without me?”
“Macey Henwood, you watch that tongue,” he warns me. “What’s gotten into you?”
I don’t answer him. I just take the key out of his hand, put it away, and leave the room.
I grab my laptop from behind the bar and keep walking until I hit the outside air. No one’s out by the picnic table. People rarely come out here. This table gathers more cobwebs than most attics.
I turn my back on the saloon and face the cow pasture.
I can still feel Logan’s hot hands around my waist and hear his raspy breath so close to me. I wanted him so badly it hurt.
It still hurts.
Because he’s taken. And I let him go. I asked him for a divorce, for goodness sake.
Shit.
When did my life get this out of control?
I open up Ghost Love on my laptop. Maybe I can lose myself in the love story I’m writing that will definitely have a happy ending. Really, I’m grateful for something to do. Writing this novel has helped get me through the summer of hell.
Except—I’m having a bit of a meltdown at the moment. So I can’t really concentrate on my book. Maybe I can finish it next summer when I’ll have more time. Ginny will be a mother, and Logan will be—
Gone.
The back door slams, and Ben takes a seat across from me at the table.
“Sorry you were stuck in the cell,” he says with a chuckle. “Riley and Blake are assholes.”
I close my laptop and laugh. “They were so thrilled with themselves.”
“I’m sure they were. I just got back and Daddy told me what happened. Oh, Ginny called me. Said she couldn’t reach you.”
Shit. I forgot about my phone.
“She and her mama are going to the bakery. They want you to meet them there.”
I nod. “Got it.”
Ben starts fidgeting, first with his hands, and then he takes a stick off the ground and starts breaking it into pieces.
“What’s up?” I say finally.
He looks at me. “I’ve made a decision about my future. I want to run my own business someday.”
I tell him how proud I am of him, silently realizing this is the second time this summer that one of my siblings hasn’t needed me the way they used to. They’re all grown up.
“I don’t think it was a coincidence that I had to come work at The Cowherd to figure that out,” he says. “You’ve been a good mentor, Mace. I appreciate all your support”
I rub his head affectionately. “Daddy’s the owner of this bar. He’s who you want to learn from, not the chick running the place for him.”
“You know you do everything here,” Ben says. “I don’t know how you did it so young is all. Feels like you had to grow up way too soon.”
“Yeah, well.” The smoky-sweet smell of the surrounding mesquite trees wafts through my nose, and I breathe in the familiar scent. “I think you have a real talent for this. You’ve already helped increase our profit margins. And you didn’t have to use a dead woman to do it.”
Ben laughs. “Daddy never did stop thinking Jane Austen would save his soul. Kind of like a lot of folks around here.”
“I guess it’s habit.”
“You could do so much more than this, you know,” he says to me after a long pause.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m scared of giving all this up.”
I stretch out my arm and gesture aimlessly around me.
“Why?” Ben asks me. “You mean The Cowherd? I know it’s been like home, but it’s not really you, is it?”
“Maybe not. But it’s what I know.”
“Are you ashamed?” he asks me out of the blue.
I whip my head over to him.
“I mean about your story,” he explains. “Like maybe you don’t want to share it with the world?”
“I’m not ashamed. Really. Maybe I’m a little uncomfortable putting it all out there.
My weaknesses. My words. This summer’s been hard.
The fact that the guy I…” I stop. “That the guy this town claims is Mr. Darcy is about to leave forever. But if the soul mates are a real thing and the ghost somehow goes free, it’s all good.
Maybe we’ll get to see Daddy actually stay sober and in charge for once. That would be worth it.”
“You know you’re gonna have to let him go.”
I start. “Daddy?”
He doesn’t answer me.
“Logan?” I say almost breathlessly. “Who do you mean?”
“You know who I mean.” He kisses my cheek and stands up to leave. “Have fun at the bakery. See you in a bit.”
I watch Ben walk out to the pick-up truck he’s had since he first got his license.
I don’t know how that thing still runs, but that’s Ben.
Never quits on anything—or anyone— he cares about.
As he starts up the engine and pulls out, I wonder.
I wonder if he’d want it. I wonder if it might just be the perfect fit, much more perfect than it ever was for me.
Maybe my dream really is sitting on my laptop.
I slip back into the bar to grab my purse. My father’s nowhere in sight as I glance up at the supposed photos of Jane Austen’s ghost.
“I know you didn’t demand that somebody lock you down and steal your crown,” I say softly. “Your crown wasn’t even something you wrote for.” Queen of romance, queen of anything; Jane Austen just wanted to tell a good story.