Around us, the world seemed so at peace. The snow blanketed everything and the scent of a warm wood fire clung to the air. It seemed so simple. My life seemed so simple. Easy. Blessed.
Gemma was a warrior. She’d fought every day to survive, and I was so proud of her. I was proud that she’d broken the cycle.
“After you ran away, did you ever see her again? Your mother?”
Gemma nodded. “She always knew where I was. I never told anyone, but I went home and checked on her about once a month.”
My jaw dropped. “She knew you were living in a junkyard and didn’t do anything about it?”
Gemma gave me a sad smile. “She did do something about it. She didn’t make me come home.”
Maybe there’d been a shred of sanity in her mother after all.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say. But now you know. When I see your mother hug Katherine and buy her flowers because she knows how much Katherine loves pink, I get jealous. And Katherine deserves that. She deserves a mother.”
“And what about you? Don’t you?”
“I have a mother. She lives in the same house she’s lived in her entire life. And I bought it five years ago so she doesn’t have to work and will never have to move.”
“What?” My eyes bulged. “You still . . . you what?”
She’d kept in touch with her mother all these years. She’d provided for her. She’d funded her life.
She wanted to hate her mother. She wanted to change her own looks to escape her mother.
But she’d chained herself to the woman.
God, she was strong. I’d never known anyone with Gemma’s strength and resilience.
“I moved out,” Gemma said. “I didn’t turn my back on her.”
“Does Kat know?”
“No one does.” There was a warning in her tone.
Gemma had made up her mind about caring for her mother a long, long time ago. And not a soul on earth would make her change her mind, even me.
She tightened her grip on Sprite’s reins and clicked her tongue, picking up the pace and ending the conversation.
I urged Jigsaw forward and caught up, staying silent as I let her choose the path of the ride. Her story ran over and over through my mind, and though I had questions, I kept them to myself.
Where did Gemma and I go from there? Would this confession bring us closer together? Or now that I knew the truth, would it give Gemma the excuse she’d been searching for to run?
Or would she realize that she’d just opened up to me, because she’d finally found the place where she belonged?
Chapter Thirteen
Gemma
“Happy Thanksgiving.” I smiled into the phone, hearing the baby coo in the background.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Londyn said. “How are you?”
“Cold. It’s freezing here. How are things with you?”
“Um . . . interesting.”
My smile fell. “Everything okay?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?” My hand came to my heart. “Really? Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Londyn laughed. “This wasn’t exactly what we’d planned, but oh my God, Gem, you should see Brooks. He’s so excited.”
And she was too.
“I’m so happy for you, Lonny.”
“Me too. So what are you doing today? Are you eating with the Greers?”
“I’m sitting outside Carol and Jake’s house as we speak.”
“How’s the Cadillac fairing in the snow?” she asked.
“Not too bad. Though I think it’ll be happy to see warm weather again.” Easton had offered to get me a ranch truck to drive around, but I’d declined. For now, the Cadillac was doing fine on the roads they kept plowed. And if that changed, I’d take a truck.
“Are you still thinking you’ll leave after Christmas?”
“Unless the roads are bad.” The idea of leaving made my heart ache, but eventually, my time here would come to an end.
It had to end.
Dreams were only meant to last a few short hours. Already I’d had mine for weeks.
“There’s no rush,” Londyn said for the hundredth time since I’d left West Virginia. Every time we’d talked, she’d reminded me to take some time.
“I know, but this entire stay in Montana was just a vacation,” I lied. “It’s time to move on.”
To where, I wasn’t sure. After I delivered the Cadillac to Karson, I had no idea where to go next. But I had twelve hundred miles to figure it out.
A wail sounded in the background. “Uh-oh.”
“She’s exhausted.” Londyn sighed. “Too much excitement today and she’s fighting sleep.”
“I’ll let you go. Bye.” I hung up the phone but didn’t get out of the car.
Mine was the only one in the driveway besides Liddy’s Jeep and even though Easton wasn’t inside, I wanted a moment to prepare for tonight.
Things between us had been different over the past two weeks—uncomfortable and distant—and it had everything to do with my past.
I should have stayed quiet on that horseback ride. I shouldn’t have told him about my mother.
Easton came over a few times a week and we’d have dinner together. We’d have sex. But there was a distance between us, even when we’d fall asleep in the same bed. I found his gaze waiting for me more often than not, and in the quiet moments, he’d look at me like he was expecting me to decide something.
Except what was there to decide? I wasn’t going to cut off my mother. No matter how much I struggled with her as a parent and what she’d done to me, she had no one in the world except me. If he wanted me to disown her, he’d be disappointed.
What the hell had I been thinking telling him everything? Why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut?
And now I had to survive another family function as the one non-family member. I’d pretend that everything was fine. I’d pretend to be happy.
And I’d pretend not to be in love with Easton.
The days were getting harder and harder to endure. Every hour I had to remind myself this was temporary. And the longer I stayed, the more painful it would be to drive away.
Easton hadn’t asked me to stay. He wouldn’t ask me to stay. This was casual. This was for fun. He certainly hadn’t insisted we stop hiding our relationship from his family.
But what if we did? What if we told them we were together? What if I came back after driving the Cadillac to California?
Would he want me back?
“Are you coming inside?” Carol hollered from the front door.
I nodded and pushed open the door to the Cadillac, stepping outside and hurrying to the door. The snow was falling lightly and I brushed the stray flakes from my shoulders and my hair before stepping inside. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too.” Carol took the gift bag from my hand, peeking inside, as I shrugged off my coat. “Oh, you are so sweet. These are gorgeous. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I smiled as she slid out the charcuterie board I’d found at a gift shop in Missoula last weekend. I’d skipped the last two Saturdays with Easton, using holiday shopping as an excuse for two trips into Missoula.