How many days, months, years had passed before realization inevitably struck that he wasn’t going to be rescued? Like Gavin had said, I learned that something you had to wait for wasn’t worth having. Was that why he felt that way?
Her fingers searched the dirt, found another rock, and then struck out at an invisible God high in the heavens, beyond her fury. Ginny raised her eyes heavenward. “How could You? I thought he was safe in Your arms!” she screamed. “Why? You could have saved him!”
Memories assailed her of what she had been doing while Gavin had been kidnapped. Every joy-filled moment or any spark of happiness was now tainted by what he must have endured.
“How many times did he call out for Your help, only for his pleas to go unheard? How often did I pray for him? Begged for You to love him until I could be by his side? Why? Oh God, why didn’t You save him? Or Leah? No more! You hear me?” Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs. Using her fingertips, she wiped her tears away, getting back to her feet and staring dismally up at the sky. “No more,” she stated in a cold voice. “Never again will I ever beg You for anything,” she vowed, leveling her gaze to stare blankly at the town below.
Gaining Gavin’s love wasn’t going to be possible until she earned his trust. To do that it would be necessary to be in close proximity to him. As much she hated Gavin being forced to go to Nashville with her, it was the only way she stood a chance of reaching that goal. Killyama had been right to let The Last Riders take the fall for that, as much as it hurt her to achieve it that way. Killyama was right about another thing, also. She might have to take a backseat where Gavin was concerned for now, but she darn sure could do something about eight stubborn males who didn’t live too far from here.
With sudden resolve Ginny went back to her car, leaving the overlook to drive farther away from town. The mountain roads became steeper as she passed the Last Riders’ clubhouse, then steeper still after passing the Porter’s.
Tightening her grip on the steering wheel of the rented car, Ginny turned into a rutted driveway, coming to a stop when she saw the two-story house that she grew up in. In her mind, she replayed images of that long-ago day when she watched Freddy give rides on the ATV that he had been proud of buying. That ill-fated day would live in her memory for the rest of her life.
Losing Leah and Freddy had left a hole in her heart that would never heal, which was compounded by being removed from her brothers’ house.
Ginny held back from confronting them overtly, demanding to be let back into their lives, like the angry, grief-stricken child she had been when she was forced to leave. Instead, she had left the choice of seeing her to them, fearful of being permanently barred from them forever.
Swallowing the thick lump in her throat, Ginny got out of the car. The house had been painted since she visited at Christmas.
She had come here many times after getting her license, so many times that she’d lost count. Each visit had been accompanied with a gift and a prayer for a different outcome than her previous visits.
Yet another prayer that had gone unanswered.
She had stood outside that door, begging them to just let her come inside to talk, only to be met with complete silence. Uncomfortable and forlorn at being ostracized, Ginny had left just as she had arrived—alone.
The large house held so much love within. She had ached for it every day since it had been denied to her. Had they even missed her? Had they even opened the presents she left on their doorstep every Christmas? Opened the birthday cards she sent? The uncashed checks contained another painful reminder of them each time she looked at her bank balance.
Encasing her heart in steel, Ginny walked to the front of the car, raising her voice so that her brothers could hear every word she said. “I love you, but I can’t keep doing this. If you don’t come out this time, I won’t be back.”
The wind above stirred the trees’ bare limbs, making a mockery of the stillness from inside.
Looking away from the house when her brothers didn’t come barreling out, Ginny took one last look around the side of the mountain that had been her playground. The tree where she parked the car next to still held the bullseye target that Silas had hung; he’d taught her to use the same bow he learned on. The small wooden shelter that Jacob taught her to build when she was eleven years old was still standing, despite being covered with vines and old leaves. Walking to the small pit where Isaac taught her to build a fire without matches and where they celebrated her success by toasting marshmallows on a stick, held nothing but the ashes of just one more memory that was going to have to last her for a lifetime without the opportunity to make more.
Her family taught her every possible survival skill, yet nothing could have prepared her for being stonewalled by the ones she loved the most. As much as she had succeeded without them, it didn’t make them any less important to her as the years passed.
Walking back to the car, she glanced once again at the empty porch. Ginny remembered the first day Freddy brought her here. How scared, sullen, and alone she felt. That whole first month, she must have called Will a hundred times to come and get her, yet the Colemans had showered her with love until, gradually, as the months passed, the calls became fewer and fewer. She had grown to accept and return the love they had unselfishly given to her.
The excited expectations she began the day with were dampened with the fear of Gavin never being emotionally ready to have a new woman in his life. However, coming here was restoring her optimism about Gavin. Planning to pay forward the unconditional love and understanding she had been given in her life to Gavin would steadily lift the bleakness from finding out the details of the horrors that he had survived.
Ginny cut the thought off sharply. Her family’s love had boosted her during the darkest days after she had to leave and it had carried through until now. Gavin’s torture had been so extreme that he wasn’t able to find his way out of the darkness, even with the help of The Last Riders. He wouldn’t be reaching out for any emotional connection, regardless of any attraction he felt toward her.
The wind stopped blowing, creating an eerie quietness that extended toward the house, despite there being three trucks parked outside. They were going to let her leave again.
Squeezing her eyes closed at the heartache, Ginny started for the side of her car when the unnatural stillness was broken by a scent that had her nose twitching at the appetizing aromas coming from an open window.
She ground her teeth in anger that they were uncaringly sitting down to eat at the same table she had shared with them so many times, while her heart was breaking in two. That anger had her striding toward the porch. She had already decided this would be her last attempt to heal the breach between them. There was nothing left to lose; her fear of losing them forever removed the obstacle holding her back.
Her temper, provoked by the slight they were giving her, had her raising a hand to pound on the door. Before her knuckles connected with the wood, the smell of what was cooking inside became discernable, invoking a faint memory from her subconsciousness. It was her first Christmas morning with them, and Leah had woken her up to open Christmas presents.
When they ran out of their bedroom, Ginny thought they would go down the stairs to see the gifts Santa had left behind. However, Leah grabbed her hand as she instead ran toward Freddy’s room and flung the door open. Afraid of getting in trouble, Ginny tore her hand free as Leah shouted out in excitement. “Wake up, Pa. Ginny and I want to open our presents!” She dove on top her sleeping father’s mattress.