“Who? You?”
“Yes, me. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” My eyes flooded.
As much as I would like to see a familiar face, my days in San Francisco would be miserable. I had a broken heart to mend. It would be better to see Benjamin when the two of us could laugh and talk without a cloud of sorrow hanging over my head.
“How about we meet up after I deliver this Cadillac? We can spend a week or two somewhere tropical. Bring Taylor and the three of us will spend a small fortune gorging ourselves on food between spa appointments. You two can pick where we go.”
He chuckled. “Taylor is going to want Bali.”
Escaping to the opposite end of the world with Benjamin and his spouse seemed like a good idea at the moment. “Bali it is.”
“Keep in touch, please. I don’t like the idea of you driving alone.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Talk soon.”
“Bye.”
With the call over, I tucked my phone into my purse and slung it over my shoulder. Then I stood from the couch in the living room and took one last look at the cabin.
My temporary home.
It had always felt temporary. That had to mean something, right? That I’d never wanted to live here forever? I liked the cabin. It was cozy and warm. But it wasn’t home.
This place wasn’t home.
So I drew in another breath, savoring one last inhale of the fire I’d built this morning that had nearly burned out. Then I walked to the door, twisted the lock on the handle before closing it behind me and got in the car.
I wouldn’t let myself look in my mirror as I drove away.
It was simply another fleeting stop.
And like I’d done before, it was time to search for the next.
“Stay another week,” Katherine pleaded. “Or two.”
“I can’t.”
“Please? I already have your Christmas present. Just stay until then.”
She wasn’t making this easy on me. Our friendship had bloomed in my time here and I’d miss her terribly. I dearly hoped our relationship wouldn’t end.
“I’m going to miss you.” I pulled her into a hug and squeezed tight.
We were standing in the middle of her office. I’d found her behind her desk, as always, working with a smile on her face.
I envied that and so much else. But I was so happy for her. I was glad she’d found her place.
“Call me,” I said. “And I’ll call you. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You won’t.” Her arms cinched tighter. “What happened, Gemma? Why are you leaving? You seemed happy.”
I was happy.
But I wasn’t going to mix up Easton’s life. Especially if he wasn’t going to ask me to stay.
Last night, I’d felt sixteen again. When I’d left my mother’s home, she’d been there. Watching. She’d sat on the living room couch and watched me walk out the door without a word.
I’d cried for ten blocks knowing she wouldn’t chase after me.
That pain had been nothing compared to Easton’s declaration he wouldn’t beg me to stay.
But I wasn’t thinking about that. Not now.
My priority was to get on the road and drive.
One of these days, maybe I wouldn’t feel so lost. Maybe one day I’d set foot into the place where I was meant to be and know, in my bones, it was mine. Maybe I’d finally quiet the unsettled energy that zipped through my veins.
“I have to go.” I let Katherine go and blinked away the threat of tears. “You have my number.”
She nodded, swiping at her own eyes. “Are you going to come back?”
“Someday.” Maybe.
But only when I could handle the notion of seeing Easton again.
Until then, I was planning on inviting Katherine along on Benjamin’s trip to Bali. I’d whisk her away until I had the courage to return. Until I was strong enough to face Easton, knowing that when I left here today, he’d never forgive me.
“Take care of yourself.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Same to you.”
I turned away and hurried from her office before she could see my unshed tears. Then I made my way outside to the Cadillac parked in front of the lodge.
I’d tried to find Carol and Liddy earlier, but they’d gone into Missoula for Black Friday shopping, so I’d left them a note. They’d probably hate me for that note, but it was better than hanging around.
The Cadillac was warm when I slid inside, the seats soaking up the early morning sun. I cranked the heat anyway as I started the engine, feeling a cold so deep that I doubted I’d be warm for a hundred miles.
Goddamn it. Why? I wasn’t even sure what why I was asking. Why was I like this? Why was life so hard? Why didn’t he love me? Just . . . why?
My chin quivered and I sucked in a few short breaths, but it was no use. The tears flooded and the world became a glassy blur as I cried into the steering wheel.
What was wrong with me? Why was I leaving?
Because I’m terrified.
The answer came immediately. This time in Montana had woken me up. I was feeling again. I was living. I’d fallen in love.
And I was scared that it would all fall to shit.
If I decided to stay and everything here broke, it would destroy me.
Self-preservation was kicking in, and foolish or not, habits were hard to break. I’d been taking care of myself—depending on myself, protecting myself—for a long, long time.
I wiped my face dry—taking the makeup I’d put on this morning away with the tears—then I took a deep breath, sat up straight and put the Cadillac in reverse.
The road was covered with last night’s dusting of snow. There was only one set of tracks to mark the path, probably from Carol and Liddy. Before I could stop myself, I glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing the lodge grow smaller in the distance. Then I rounded a turn and it disappeared behind a towering wall of evergreens.
My hand came to my chest, rubbing my sternum to try and erase the sting.
I pushed the Cadillac faster. Snowy roads or not, it was time to rip off the bandage and get the hell off Greer property.
A billow of snow rose up behind me as I picked up speed and ahead, the highway came into view. The pressure in my chest was nearly crippling, but I breathed through it with both hands locked on the wheel.
Then a black streak caught my eye.
I blinked, once, then twice, and tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
There was a man on a horse, racing along the barbed wire fence that bordered the highway. He was flying.
I gasped, a hand flying to my mouth as my foot lifted off the gas pedal.
Jigsaw was running flat-out, his legs stretching in front of him as he galloped. And on his back, Easton rode with a fluid grace that was so stunningly beautiful, I barely noticed that I’d brought the Cadillac to a full stop.
Easton turned Jigsaw as he neared the road but didn’t ease off the pace. He didn’t slow until he was close enough for me to see his flushed cheeks, his panted breaths, and that he wasn’t wearing a coat.
He leapt off Jigsaw, the animal breathing as hard as his owner, and while the horse stood by waiting, Easton strode to the Cadillac and ripped open the door.
His face was a storm. His eyes blazing.